#and i think he'd Probably care if he had a clue | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dilfl0v3rss · 6 months

Note

NEED more boxer!todo smut maybe one where reader is jealous of the fan girls ???

yes yes yes yes yes yes yessssss!!!!

you loved your boyfriend more than anything. he was caring, respectful, loyal, and most of all, he wasn't afraid to express his love for you. whether it be in an interview or literally in a middle of a match todo always made sure to let people know he belonged to you. though this was true, there always seemed to be those sex-crazed fans that saw your man as nothing but a piece of meat. eyeing him at every angle, just waiting to pounce on him when you're either not around or not looking. todo always told you not to worry about these women, but how could you when he'd do barely anything to keep them in check?

you were accompanying todo at yet another meet and greet, fixing up his locs into a much better bun than whatever he threw it in earlier as your beefy boyfriend sat uncomfortably in his seat. "wanna go the fuck home" he mumbled as he boredly watched the hundreds of girls scream their heads off at the entrance. your hand moved towards the back of his neck, plucking him lightly before lecturing him. "watch your mouth, these people are dying t'meet you and this how you repay them?" todo sucked his teeth in front of you, earning him another pluck on the other side of his neck as you moved in front of him, blocking his view of the entrance as you stood between him and the table. "ow! cmon mama, we both know that we rather be in the bed right now" the smirk on his lips already let you know what he was implying as he outstretched a wide hand on the plump of your ass, squeezing the fatty flesh as he peeked past you towards the door.

you quickly slapped his hand away, giving him a warning look as you began to move towards where the rest of his team and security were standing. "behave" you mouthed before both of your attention was brought to the swarm of screaming women moving towards the table. todo internally rolled his eyes at the sight in front of him. in his eyes he didn't understand why these women acted like this, never really paying attention to how he looked when he fought. you, on the other hand, understood completely. from his tight jawline to the sight of his sweaty, glistening body. you knew your man was fine, but that didn't mean you enjoyed when these women would act like this.

"oh my goshhhhh a.t please sign this!!!" the first girl yelled, practically shoving a picture of him in his face. he internally sighed at her behavior, his hand moving towards the picture before quickly signing his initials on it and giving it back to her. "there you go. loved that fight by the way, think i handled my business well. whatchu think about it?" the girl stood in embarrassment as she looked around the room, not having a clue in the world about what fight he was talking about since she probably got the picture from a random site online. todo turned towards you, a small smirk creeping on his lips as the girl quickly walked away. you couldn't help but laugh as you instantly thought back to the fight he was talking about. it happened to be the same fight you gave hime a little something in his dressing room before he went out.

the next group of woman to come up were much calmer, all wearing white t shirt with todo's face in the middle of a heart. of course they tied the backs of them, making their breasts nearly burst through the fabric as their one size too small miniskirts sat right over the bottom of their asses, they probably weren't even wearing underwear. "hi aoiii" the women said in unison, their high pitched voices making your eyes roll as the three of them leaned over the table. this time todo didn't seem as bored, his lip twitching into a smirk as he read the words on each of their shirts. the girl on his left wearing one that said "aoi", the middle one wearing one that said "is our", and the girl on the right wearing one that had a big pink "daddy" right under his picture. the sight of them made you cringe as you quietly scoffed in disgust.

"well this is new" he said with a chuckle, making the girls giggle as well. their breasts bouncing in their tight shirts as they basically eye fucked your boyfriend right in front of you. "we're such big fans todo, really!" the girl on the left said as she batted her long lashes at him. "yea we've been t'nearly every match!" "n'when we couldn't get tickets we'd watch you on tv!" the other two followed, leaning closer towards him on the table as he kept that dumb smirk on his face. "well i appreciate that ladies, i could tell y'all are big fans" you were getting irritated now. your nails digging into your palms as you watched the girl in the middle hand him a gift box with a bright pink bow on it, small smirks on their faces as they waited for him to open it. "want me t'open it now or later?" each of the girls quickly replied. "now!" a fit of giggles following as they watched the man slowly undo the bow.

as todo removed the lid he nearly choked on his tongue. inside the box sat three pairs of panties, each a different color which also happened to match the colors of the words on each of their shirts. the girl on the left's being baby blue, the girl in the middle's being black, and the girl on the right's being pink. his eyes widened before he slowly put the lid back on, picking up the sharpie and looking at the three woman. "w-what y'all want signed?" he said, clearing is throat after he spoke in which the girls replied almost immediately by pointing to the small line in the top right corner of the big heart in the middle of each of their shirts. of course this was also where their left breasts were located, making todo's heart nearly stop beating in his chest.

you were fuming now, feeling as if steam was being released from your ears as you watched this man, YOUR man, smile from ear to ear as he signed his name on each of their shirts. you couldn't watch the scene any longer, turning on your heals and walking towards the exit to wait for him in the car. todo didn't even notice until he heard the exit door slam onto the wall when you opened it, your back turned to him as you angrily walked away. "s'cuse me for a minute" he mumbled, getting up from his seat to follow you outside. the girls giggly attitudes were quickly replaced with sadness as they watched todo walk away as if all the things they just did meant nothing.

you were nearly at his car now, the keys already in your purse since he gave them to you when it was time for the event to start. "mama...baby where you goin?" you ignored him, continuing your search for his keys so you can just go. todo didn't give up though, walking up behind you before lightly pulling your arm around so you can face him. "what's the issue?" was he dumb? did he really not see the problem in what just went on? anger began to cloud your brain, making all your movements rougher and full of attitude as you snatched your arm from his hold and waved your hands in his face as you spoke.

"nigga are you dumb, stupid, or a complete fuckin idiot cause there's no way in hell you don't understand what the problem is" todo's face hardened at your disrespectful attitude, his jaw clenching as he stared down at you with serious eyes. "who the fuck you talkin to like that y/n? don't make me embarrass you out here." you scoffed, his words not putting a single drop of fear in your heart as you pushed your finger into his chest. "you already did that when you was in there signing tiddies and smiling all in bitches faces you hoe ass nigga. m'not finna go back n fourth wit you when i know i could have a new nigga in my bed by tonight so you can go back in there wit your little girlfriends and leave me the fuck alo-" before you knew it your view quickly changed from aoi's face to the upside down view of his lower back as he threw you over his shoulder.

"nigga put me down ion care if you a pro boxer i will fuck you up out here!"

"yeah yeah whatever you say, jus keep that same energy when we get in there."

'in where?' you thought. nevertheless, you continued slapping your hands on his back, trying to free yourself from his strong hands. before you knew it the two of you were back inside, the attention of almost every person in there on you and todo as he continued his journey to the bathroom, not paying them any mind. he became irritated with your small fists hitting his back, using his much larger hands to his advantage as he left a light tap on your ass, "cut it out ma, you only makin it worse for yourself." the three women still stood in their spots in front of his table, looks of jealousy on each of their faces as they watched you. your current state made you embarrassed as you looked at the group of girls the best you could as you hung over your boyfriend's shoulder. todo payed all of them no mind, silently walking into the bathroom and locking the door before putting you down.

as soon as he released you, you made quick work of giving him a piece of your mind as you fixed your dress in the mirror. "stupid ass nigga, now you standing there all mad at me cause i told you the truth. im not trippin over you aoi you can go be wit them bitches right now and i wouldn't bat an eye." you dug yourself into an even deeper hole as you continued to fix yourself up in the mirror, not paying the man any mind as he walked up behind you. he was close, leaving no room between your ass and his print as he dropped his lips towards your ear. "you done?" the sound of his voice made arousal rush to your core, but you feigned indifference. why was he so calm? on other days when you would get like this your boyfriend would usually entertain it, feeding into your attitudes by arguing with you, today felt different.

your gazed moved towards his in the mirror. you were going to speak, but the look in his eyes told you that maybe it was better if you didn't. the look he carried was one you've never seen up close like this before. this was the same look he had before getting in the ring with that one mouthy opponent. the same opponent that ended up getting sent flying to the other side of the ring in just the first round. so you settled for a slow nod instead, an apology already on the tip of your tongue as you felt his wide hand outstretch on your the middle of your back. "bend over f'me then" he left you no more room for arguments as he already had you bending over the sink with his hand, his eyes never leaving yours as he used his other hand to lift up your dress. "why you mad at me baby?" you opened your mouth to speak, but was cut off by the sound of his deep, menacing voice, "and before you answer that lemme remind you that ian flirt with those girls, didn't let em touch me, didn't even ask f'their names. just been polite and signed my name on their shirts so why you mad at daddy, baby?"

as you thought back to the events that happened you realized how wrong you were, you fucked up. you were so blinded by jealousy that you didn't notice how respectful your man was still being to you during the entire situation. tears began to well in your eyes, your bottom lip already trembling as an apology sat ready on your tongue. "sh sh sh, m'not hearin none of that right now. tell me why you upset" your tears escaped you as you spoke, your breathing already picking up speed as you tried to get through a single sentence without sobbing. "cause i was j-jealous" todo nodded his head at your truthfulness, freeing himself from his black jeans before lining himself up with your entrance. "and what did papa said t'do when you start feelin that way princess?"

your tears fell more frequently now, your voice quieting down almost to a whisper as you shyly told him the words he wanted to here. "said t-to talk t'you about it to avoid stuff l-like this" he nodded again, tightly gripping your hips as he slowly sunk into you. the moan you let out was sinful, the thin walls of the bathroom doing probably nothing to keep everyone outside from hearing the two of you. "auughh d-da-" "sh sh shh, you was able to remember everything you was supposed t'do, but still managed not t'do it. y'know what that means right?" you slowly nodded your head, earning you a hard slap on your ass. the stinging pain of his rough palm caused more tears to fall as your legs buckled under you. "y-yes, m-means i'm in tr-trouble"

todo hummed in delight at your compliance, one of his hands snaking up your back and into your hair as he gripped your hip firmly with his other. "m'glad you know, take what i give you and if i see you tryna run imma just go deeper, y'hear me?" you didn't even get the chance to reply before you felt every inch of his dick begin to move in and out of you at a slow pace. the sound of his hips and your ass already filling the room as you released whiney moans into the air. "m'so sorry p-papa, i didn't m-mean t'make you madddd" you whined, your hands clenching in a tight fist to keep you from pushing at his abdomen. todo ignored you, quickening his pace and strengthening his trhrusts to the point where the sink acquired a slight shake.

you knew that you wouldn't be able to last long if he kept fucking you like this, your back arched to perfection as he pulled you up slightly so you can watch him in the mirror. he quickly released your hip, moving his hand towards your chin as he made you look yourself in the eyes. "what's my name mama? say it real loud so all those girls could hear." his deep voice traveled right between your legs, your arousal only growing as he felt your essence begin to spread all over his thighs. your eyes lost their focus, nothing but your release on your mind as you began to fuck yourself back onto his dick. todo couldn't help a devilish smirk from growing on his features, your fucked out expression almost making him ease up on you, but almost wasn't enough...

the next thing you knew todo's thrusts doubled in power, his hand gripping your hair tighter as he left three hard slaps to your ass. "y'hear me pretty? say my name." he knew you could barely think right now let alone speak, but todo had a habit of pushing you past your limits. your pouty lips parted, smeared lipgloss making them shine as you forced out the name he's been dying to hear. "daddy, f-fuckkk s'daddy!" your words were followed by a plethora of moans and whines, your release on the tip of your tongue as you felt his dick kiss parts of you that could never be reached by someone else. todo just smiled, lust dancing in his eyes as he stared you down in the mirror. "s'right mama, it don't matter if a girl put it on a t shirt or on her fucking forehead. daddy only got one girl n it's you"

tears began to fall down your cheeks, your pleasure only growing as you listened to your boyfriend reassure you. at the sound of his voice your walls began to tighten, signaling to him you were about to cum. todo moved his hand towards your stomach, pushing your back to his chest as he kissed up and down your neck. "you gonna cum? gon make a mess on your dick?" you quickly nodded your head at his question, tear stained cheeks shining in the dim light of the bathroom as you moved yourself back harder onto him. "w-wan you t'fill me up daddy" todo felt himself twitch at sight of you, your low eyes and glossy lips making it hard for him to keep his orgasm at bay as he quickened the speed of his thrusts. "ill give you want you want princess don't worry, give you whatever you want as long as you listen. you gon listen to daddy now?"

you replied almost instantly with a drawn out "yessss!" making todo's heart skip a beat as he quickly connected the two of your lips. the two of you made out sloppily, not worrying at all about the noise as your release trickled out of you onto his dick. your vision began to whiten as your legs buckled from underneath you. of course aoi caught you, continuing his ministrations until he was filling you up with his thick load. as both of your breathing began to slow you slipped out of todo's arms and turned around to face him. "m'sorry for gettin jealous baby, i just don't like seein you around so many women." you shied away from his gaze, making him put a strong hand under your jaw so you can look at him as he spoke. "i know mama and i forgive you, now can we just forget this whole stupid meet n greet shit so i can go home and fuck you properly. i hate these things just as much as you do."

the two of you laughed, getting each other dressed before quietly exiting the bathroom. you were surprised to see that all of the women had left, their hopes of pulling the pro boxer being killed by the sound of the two of you fucking like animals in the bathroom.

"looks like they already forgot it"

#aoi todo x black reader #aoi todo x black!reader #aoi todo x black y/n #aoi todo smut #todo aoi x black reader #todo aoi x black!reader #todo aoi x black yn #todo aoi smut #jjk x black!fem reader #jjk x black!reader #jjk x black y/n #jjk x black reader

1K notes · View notes

honey-on-your-tongue · 9 months

Text

Sort of nsfw? part 2 coming 🙃

Dbsf! Miguel, shocked when you come home for spring break to announce you have a boyfriend, surprise and rage filling him in almost equal amounts. Just in New Year's, he'd had you looking at him like that, that sweet gaze, soft and full of an innocence you do not posses. But now that look comes across your eyes when you talk about him, this barely-adult boy who, Miguel is sure, doesn't have the faintest clue about how to take care of you.

He spends hours listening to you talking about this teenage boy, twenty-something, who's probably unaware of how lucky he is that a girl like you has even looked his way.

He grits his teeth the entire time, trying to contain the rage within him. It all goes to hell the moment you two are alone.

You'd been up in your bedroom for a while, and then your dad went to buy groceries and asked Miguel to keep you company.

Boy, did he.

He storms into your room, eyes dark with rage, chest heaving with each heavy breath. You look at him, surprised, eyes going wide.

“M-Miguel? Are you oka—?”

“Don't you dare ask me if I'm okay,” he snarls, slamming the door shut after himself. “You come here talking about some-some kid?! After New Year's?!”

New Year's. How the fuck could you ever forget? You'd come home from college to celebrate. At the party, before midnight, you and Miguel had run into each other on the balcony, away from the crowd. Both of you tipsy, the tension obvious, neither could resist the temptation.

As the ball dropped at midnight, Miguel was already balls-deep in your soaked, puffy cunt. He took you over and over again in that secluded room, your gorgeous body spread out on the bed as you screamed his name.

Neither of you would ever be the same again.

“Do you remember what you said?” he demands, something in his voice growing soft as he towers over you in your bedroom now. “Do you remember what you promised me?”

You swallow hard. You can still hear your own voice, broken by moans, as you swore, “I'm yours, Miguel.”

“Yes,” you say softly, holding his gaze.

He bites his tongue, sharp canines digging into the soft muscle as he tries to keep himself quiet. He says it anyway. “Was it a lie?”

“What?”

He hears the disbelief in your voice; he knows you heard him. He asks it again. “Did you lie about it?”

“No!” you immediately say, shaking your head as you stand from your bed. “No, of course not.”

“Then what the fuck are you doing with a boyfriend?” he snaps, glaring at you.

You sigh. “I...” You bite your lower lip. It was fucking ridiculous. How the fuck were you supposed to tell him that you'd seen this guy who had looked a little like Miguel and you'd already been head over heels?

You missed Miguel. Joey was just...a stand-in. Someone to warm your bed instead of leave you thinking about your dad's best friend.

But how are you going to say that?

“I just...” You sigh quietly. “He's nothing to me. When he fucks me, it...it means nothing.”

Miguel starts seeing red when he finds out this kid is fucking his Princesa. He's on you in seconds, huge hands grabbing your hips. He sits you on your bed and leans over you, bracing his hands on the mattress. His lips are inches from yours, breathing heavy.

“He's fucking you?” Miguel growls, making you shudder as you feel the anger emanating off of him.

You swallow thickly. “I—He—Yeah?”

That's the last straw for Miguel. He presses his mouth to yours, kissing you hard. Part of him is afraid—no, terrified, that you won't kiss back, that the same passion and need that was once there will be gone.

Instead, he finds you hungrier than ever. You kiss him back with almost as much want, desire pouring out of you.

You'd forgotten what it was like to kiss Miguel, to feel his mouth, taste him, the rough caress of his hands as he he starts tugging at your clothes.

You undress eagerly, needing him more than ever. His mouth waters at the sight of your bare skin, your perfect body all for him.

His cock is so hard, twitching in his pants as he aches to fuck you.

But first, he needs to taste you.

He gets on his knees in front of you and smirks. “I'm gonna give you a thousand different reasons to choose me over anyone else,” he promises, his mouth already inching towards your pussy.

You don't need him to give you any reasons for anything. You'll always choose him over everyone else.

-----

@yagirlheree @sukioyakio @obi-mom-kenobi @celestia80s @manlikemilesmyguy @zaunsin @naniiiii12 @everlastlady @avatar-lover @siidmm @dhollandhs @spikedhe4rt @missing2socks @itzraven101 @miguelspookiebear @mochikomochisoft @sunset-euphoria @kishibeswh0re @m4dyy @icreatedthisat317am @keiva1000

*if you want me to add you to my Miguel fic masterlist, comment or send me a message <3

-----

Blog masterlist

#miguel ohara #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara

2K notes · View notes

starstruckmiraclekitty · 1 year

Note

Reader loves Ghost, but so shy to tell her feelings, at the same time he also has feelings for the reader but hesitates to talk. They just stare each other, all day long.

At that point Soap to Ghost: Just say that you like her!

Also to reader: Just say that you like him!

Matchmaker Soap, approved 👌🏻

Ayeee! Yes, I love this. Hope you enjoy this one🩷🙈

Soap, The Matchmaker

Simon Riley x Reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of nervousness, fluff

"Lass, just tell him how you feel!” Soap pleaded with you. "You stare at the lad enough, surely you've got the confidence to tell him."

"Hell no. Johnny, he barely talks to me as is. I'd just end up embarrassing myself." You smiled sadly, waiving away your friends' attempts to have you confess.

"He doesn't talk to you, because he's nervous! Trust me, he likes you too." Soap was growing desperate.

"It's okay, Johnny. I'll settle with admiring him from afar." You gave the Scot a pat on his shoulder before making your way to the bar for another beer.

Johnny groaned audibly and let his eyes drift over to where his Lieutenant was standing. Ghost always had his eyes on you whenever you were around him. Johnny couldn't possibly understand how you couldn't tell he was interested in you. The man was your literal shadow.

He stood up abruptly, and made his way over to Simon, a cheeky grin forming on his lips. "Hey, L.T."

Simon regarded him carefully as he moved his gaze from you. "Soap."

"Don't think I don't catch you staring at her." He nudged Ghost playfully. "You should try talking to her, tell her how you feel."

"No clue what you're talking about Sargeant."

"Away and bile yer heid. You and I both know you're fond of the lass." Soap chided, narrowing his eyes at his masked friend. "She might be fond of you too, you know, just probably hasn't got the courage to tell ye because you're scary as shite."

Ghost only grunted in response but felt his cheeks heating from under his mask. It was true. He was fond of you and had been for a long time. The issue was that he wasn't used to these feelings and frankly didn't know how to act.

Truth was that you made him nervous. Anytime he was around you, he'd get butterflies in his belly, and his tongue became molasses, unable to get any words out. He felt like a damn school boy with a crush for the first time.

He looked over to Johnny, to find the mohawked man already smiling at him. "Fuck off, Johnny."

"Love you too. L.T." Soap chuckled.

By the end of the night, Soap realized his efforts were in vain. The two of you clearly showed no inclination to tell each other how you felt, and the Scot felt he'd be doomed to watch you two skirt around your feelings forever.

Little did he know, Simon was mustering up the courage to ask you if he could walk you back to base.

"Y/N." You heard your voice being called from behind you at the bar, and you turned your head.

"Lieutenant." Your cheeks turned a light pink, flustered under the masked man's heavy stare. "What can I do for you?"

"I was.. going to head back to base. Was wondering if you'd care to join me." Ghost's heart was beating rapidly, his palms sweating. He was so goddamned nervous.

Your smile from his words could've lit up the entire room, and Ghost could've sworn he felt his heart stop. "I'd love to, sir."

He gave a small nod, before offering his arm to you. You wrapped your hand around his bicep, and let him lead the way back to base.

The walk back to base was long, and was filled with a comfortable silence for the better part of it.

When you were about halfway to base, Simon had cleared his throat. "Nice night out here."

You giggled at his attempt for small talk, and nodded your head. "It is. I love when I can see the stars. Makes you feel so small."

He turned his head to you, a smile forming on his lips, unbeknownst to you. "My mum used to say that when I was younger. Said we are all like specks of dust when it comes to the size of the universe."

"Smart woman." You smiled.

"That she was." Simon nodded, coming to a stop, and turning to you. "Hey."

You stopped alongside him, turning to him with a bemused expression. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just.." Simon felt like he was going to pass out. He could feel a bead of sweat dripping from his head, and his hands started to shake. "Had something I wanted to tell you."

You gave him a soft smile, and nodded your head to encourage him to continue. "Okay."

"Y/N. I can't.. bloody hell.." He fumbled for words, his tongue becoming thick in his mouth. "I cannot get you out of my head. You're always there. And hell, it frustrates the shit out of me."

Your eyes widened, and took a step back from him. "Oh…I'm sorry." You didn't know what else to say.

Simon, seeing the alarm in your eyes, immediately continued. "Fuck, no no not like that. That came out wrong. God I'm not good at this." He rubbed the back of his head nervously.

And then it hit you. He was trying to confess that he liked you. Johnny was right all along.

Your lips upturned slightly, and you moved closer to him, placing a hand softly on his arm. "I.. I can't get you out of my head either, Simon. You seem to have a permanent spot up here." You pointed to your head with a smile.

Simon felt all the weight on his shoulders fall at your words, his eyes lighting up. He didn't know what to say next. This was beyond his area of expertise… God he wished Johnny were here to tell him-

His thoughts cut short, as he felt your fingers dance at the bottom of his balaclava. You looked up to him questioning if it was okay to continue.

He gave a short nod, and you started to slowly lift up the edge of his mask, stopping it just below his nose. You didn't want to overstep anymore than you felt you already had. You saw his lips curve upward before he slowly leaned down toward you.

You met him halfway, and pressed your lips to his. His lips were rough, and chapped, but the kiss was incredibly gentle. He sighed deeply against your lips, and his hands ghosted on your hips.

Pulling away, he gave you a cheeky smile, before pulling off the rest of his mask. You let out a small gasp, as your eyes trailed over his features.

He was prettier than you ever could have imagined. Even with the scars and marks, he was the most beautiful man you'd ever laid eyes on. "You're so handsome, Simon."

You reached a hand out and placed it on his cheek. He nestled his head into your palm slightly, placing a kiss to your wrist.

He leaned down once more to capture your lips in his, this time fully resting his hands on your hips. "Think I owe Johnny a drink for this one. Mate helped me out." He chuckled as he pulled away breathless. He grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

"Think we both do. Who would've thought. Soap, the matchmaker."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Why do I want to write a smutty part two for everything😭😭😭😭😭

#cod imagine #simon riley imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader

3K notes · View notes

matrixbearer2024 · 4 months

Note

not a request but i just wanna get an idea that i absolutely MUST get out of my brain before it consumes my entire being. So, your “get off my screen series”. You know that trend where ppl put that one vox vid of his face on their tv and put like hus hat and/or body attached to the tv. Imagine vox somehow finds a way to do that and y/n just does this.

THATS IT LMAO ABSOLUTELY LOVE AND ADORE YOUR SERIES. ANYTIME I SEE IT’S UPDATED IT MAKES MY DAY<3

TikTok Trending, Posts and Memes

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: With how many ideas you guys have at this point I might just continue to write short scenarios for this AU with all the ideas you guys are giving me- it's absolutely amazing seeing what y'all come up with and I'm just living for it hahahaha! Thank you guys so much!

The week you had was... interesting to say the least.

Vox had challenged you to at least take up basic programming, claiming you were too impatient to learn.

So you, being the persistent and stubborn you-

Decided to prove him wrong.

Besides, it can't be that bad if he knows how to do it.

You wouldn't tell him because it'd probably make him butthurt-

But you were sure Vox was 1000% more impatient than you.

You took up computer science for extra credit, quickly learning the ins and outs of basic coding.

It was just a world of syntax and numbers but you definitely found it fun.

And useful too-

Especially when you wanted to explicitly screw with others.

Vox may or may not have slightly taught you how to hack.

But you weren't using it for anything bad!

Just to change the final grade of some asshole students so they'd have to repeat the class.

That's what they get for just randomly tripping you in the hall the other day.

Vox was slightly proud but also kind of concerned-

You'd definitely end up where he was at this rate.

Thankfully though, you decided not to do anything too crazy since.

Instead you've been messing around on your devices alongside the tech overlord.

From practicing how to send him encrypted messages-

To straight up just shitposting all over his monitors.

It's not so fun now is it Voxxy?

You would sometimes try to transfer him around to other devices that weren't your own to see if he could actually do anything.

Well, he could- but it only worked if he was directly connected to it.

Meaning he had to be plugged in.

How he was able to connect to all your devices wirelessly without limitation?

Neither of you had a clue.

You both first tested it on your best friend's phone, only for Vox to immediately go back to your computer and blow up your notifications.

"Nope nope nope nope, that's the last time I let you plug me into some random fucking phone-"

"What?? What happened??? And it's not random, it's (Friend Name)'s Phone."

"Dollface, you know Valentino right? The one I told you about?"

"The pornstar? What about?"

You didn't exactly like where this conversation was going.

You had an inkling where it would end and you were already cringing.

"Yeeaaaah, I've known him for quite some time so I would think I've seen nearly everything."

"Get to the point Vox-"

"And yet I am somehow utterly disgusted by your friend's search history."

"Yeah, uh... I'd rather you don't tell me."

"I figured. Though it makes me curious about what yours looks like."

That gave you pause, given how Vox had practically invaded your entire computer-

Hell, he even gave your files a new sorting system-

You were surprised he hadn't gone through your search history.

Of all the things you'd think that was what he'd ransack first.

"You haven't checked my search history yet?"

"Why would I? It's not like I'm trying to find your secret porn stash or something."

"Bruh, why would I even have that."

"Your friend had one, I just guessed."

"Touché."

You were a little touched that Vox cared about you enough not to really dig into your secrets.

Or well, the things you wanted to keep secret.

For a big bad overlord, he was kind of a sweetheart.

"Okay now I definitely wanna see what you've got hidden in there-"

"FUCK OFF YOU STUPID OLD PICTUREBOX-"

"YOU CAN'T STOP ME BITCH-"

You know what, you retracted your previous statement.

He's a fucking jerk.

Vox quickly dug through your search history while the tiny desktop companion in his likeness refused to give you control over the cursor.

You couldn't stop him even if you tried.

His phone blew up from notifications with you cursing at him or just calling him names.

He just laughed at your dismay and continued to dig through.

Okay- wow.

While he didn't initially expect it from you, Vox reckoned he probably should've.

Much like how people had celebrity crushes, he figured you would have your own.

It just so happened that it wasn't a celebrity and it was a fictional character instead.

He kind of felt like someone slapped him in the face actually, even if he didn't know why.

"Soooooo- (Favorite Character Name) huh?"

"Shaddup-"

"This? This is your type???"

"IT'S A FICTIONAL CRUSH GET OVER IT-"

While you were practically steaming from the ears in embarrassment, Vox was just laughing and dealing with his mixed feelings.

On one hand, he found your reactions absolutely entertaining and hilarious.

On the other hand, he didn't even know who or what this character was and he already disliked them.

Just a gut feeling.

He continued to tease you for it though, bringing up more cringe parts of your search history much to your chagrin.

It wasn't really anything bad that you couldn't take, it was just so embarrassing that you'd rather he didn't dig any of it up.

So in the heat of the moment, wanting to get Vox off your computer- you plugged it into the only other active device he wasn't connected.

Your TV.

It was nearly instant, he went from teasing and texting to you to a befuddled face on the larger screen.

But what was more surprising, was he could actually see you this time.

It wasn't filtered over with static like when he'd first met you.

The live feed even had audio, which was just entirely unexpected too.

Who knew, plug a TV demon into his specific medium and he could actually operate properly?

But that's how you guys ended up figuring out how to connect his digital presence to your TV.

By entire surprise and from just fucking around.

"Oh my god that worked-"

"(Y/N)? Holy hell! I can actually see you!"

"I did not think that would work-"

"Wow, are you really that short or is your TV just perched up that high?"

You just flipped him the bird and Vox laughed at you again.

Though, you couldn't help but smile because of it.

Well, at least now he could converse with you "properly" like he'd wanted to for a while.

Even if it did mean he'd need to take up your entire TV.

"Oh- OH WAIT- I've got an idea!"

Vox couldn't even question what you were doing before you ran out of the room and out of his sight.

So while waiting, he took a gander at the room you left him in.

It became abundantly clear that this was your living space too.

From the colors to the patterns, Vox smiled fondly as he recalled your old conversations where you would just tell him things about the things you liked.

Yeah, he could definitely see your touch in how the room was designed.

He raised an eyebrow when you giddily came back into the room with some colored paper, scissors and tape.

What-?

"Okay Doll, just what are you planning?"

"You'll see~!"

Your excitement kept him curious.

What were you drawing over there?

Weird timing for an arts and crafts project if you asked him.

It was only until you approached him and taped something to the screen did he actually grow confused.

He couldn't see what you did despite you doubling over in laughter.

What could've possibly been so funny that had you keeling from it?

By the time you could finally look at Vox without laughing your ass off, you used your phone to take a picture of how he looked.

Approaching the TV to show him just so he could see the photo as well.

Ah.

So that's what you found so funny.

You'd fashioned his outfit-

Poorly made but still recognizable-

Out of paper and taped it to the screen.

His hat on top and his suit dangling off the bottom.

Admittedly, it looked downright silly.

Especially with the proportions being so off thanks to the size of the TV screen.

"Haha, very funny (Y/N). Very funny."

"I'm making this shit my wallpaper, you look so goofy."

Vox just playfully rolled his eyes at you with a smile.

If that was seriously all it took to make you laugh?

He'd do it again no questions asked.

Taking a peek at his internal clock though, he held back his disappointment that he had to leave when you were on such an elated high.

"Sorry to cut this short doll, but I need to disconnect. I've got a meeting in a few minutes."

"Hm? Then go and do what you need to do, I can always just plug you back in later. Good luck!"

The overlord chuckled when you raised a hand to pat the screen, he couldn't feel it but he wished he did.

"I don't need luck, but... thanks. See you."

"See you."

And just like that the screen fizzled out and returned to the smart TV homepage.

You'd sent the picture to Vox through your chats and he replied with a TV emoticon.

You giggled, course he would do that.

At least he didn't take offense to what you did-

Despite your poor art skills-

Maybe he found it as entertaining as you did?

Whatever, you switched the wallpaper on your phone to the new photo you had of Vox and laughed.

His confused expression really sealed the deal with how silly the picture was.

But imagine your surprise come morning when you realized he didn't switch the wallpaper back to his trademark grin.

You sort of expected him to, especially given that he'd done so with all your past attempts to change your wallpaper.

The fact he left it alone made you smile.

And as the day began and Vox left you a morning greeting-

You just shot him one back and got up to prepare for the day.

You figured the day would be just fine.

Yeah, you guys would be just fine.

A/N: Ooough this was a long one but I had a lot of fun writing it! I'll post the masterlist afterwards when I grab all the links to the posts and I'll just be continuing the other interludes before I post the chapter with Reader's death. Either way, I hope you guys enjoyed this one!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you #Get Off My Screen Series

315 notes · View notes

just-jordie-things · 7 months

Note

Hear me out.. hcs/blurbs of jjk boys (Gojo, Toge, Megumi, Yuuta, and itadori? Though you can choose whatever fits! 🫶) with a smug/teasey gf? (or maybe b4 dating whatever u prefer) like being a total definition of ">:3c" lol

GOJO SATORU

adores it.

you're so feisty when you're flirty and he will match that energy

it made the stage before your relationship was official very fun, because you were not shy with how you felt about him

and uh i think that he'd be very turned on by it all

i think he'd really like it if you playfully walked your fingers up his chest- yk what i mean? that slow little tap tap of your nails climing up his shirt ooo i think he'd flusterrrr

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

dear lord just have some mercy on him

he's never not blushing when he's around you

whether what you whispered in his ear was a sweet sentiment or the dirtiest thing he's ever heard, he's red. neck, ears, cheeks and all.

when you're alone he can dish it back a bit, i think megumi would have some rizz in private

but if you're around others, the ball is compeltely in your court. he secretly loves how much pda you give him but he definitely looks like he'll crumple to the ground at any given point

ITADORI YUUJI

simps for you. hard.

he genuinely had no clue if you actually liked him at first because it was just so common of you to get touchy and flirt a bit

(i mean, you'd address him as hot stuff every time you saw him but he's just a bit oblivious leave baby boy alone)

and how was he supposed to know comparing hand sizes was a casual flirt go to??

once you get together your affections only increase tenfold but yuuji will match the energy no problem.

you'd definitely do the "i love you more :(" "no i love YOU more >:(" fight but it probably ends in a make out sesh every time

INUMAKI TOGE

thinks you're just the cutest thing in the world

you'll playfully bite his arm or his cheek and he'll giggle and on some occasions you've even see him kick his feet

just wants to kiss you everytime you give him that cheeky little smirk

you make him for his quietness with how much you flirt with him and he adores it. sometimes it's smooth, and sometimes it's the corniest thing he's ever heard. but he loves it all the same.

please play with his hair, he needs physical touch. he does not care who's around, just touch it. he uses that expensive conditioner now just cause you said you liked the smell.

OKKOTSU YUUTA

like megumi, gets flustered easy

but that's just cause it's easy to make him blush. he's got no problem with pda and when you're together it's like a competition to see who will initiate first.

he's the most fun to tease. you like to graze your hand on his thigh or subtly drag your fingers over his abdomen when you're in a public setting just to make him squirm. always complete with casual cheek kisses

he retaliates by grabbing your ass in passing. or like texting you some of the nastiest fucking things you've ever read. he wants to see you get flustered but you always lock eyes with him with the most excited look on your face. you're a hard person to tease.

you call each other babe a lot. you definitely called him babe a lot before you got together, too. it's corny but he loves it

#megumi brainrot #satoru brainrot #yuuji brainrot #toge brainrot #yuuta brainrot #gojo satoru x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #inumaki toge x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

433 notes · View notes

avocadorablepirate · 12 days

Text

Quiet Appreciation

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x gn!reader

Summary: headcanon - just exploring what Law would be like with an artistic S/O (I've only mentioned a few art forms).

Word Count: 725

Warnings: none (at least none that I can think of)

A/N: I had no clue what to title this so I went with something that's relatively close to the contents of this post ._.

Firstly, whether you're together or not, if he sees a bunch of art supplies that he knows you'll love, you can be sure that he's going to buy them for you. Especially if it's something he's heard you mention from time to time.

Then he'll casually give it to you like he just picked it up on a whim and didn't spend a good half an hour deliberating what type of paint, yarn, pencils, or other supplies you like. Or, he'll leave it in your room for you to find later on.

Does not want to make it seem like he put a lot of effort into it.

But when you find it and thank him in front of everyone, he can't stop the blush that creeps onto his cheeks. He'll try playing it cool like it's not a big deal, but he's definitely trying to stop himself from smiling.

If you're someone who crochets or knits, you'll sit in a corner of his room quietly working on your latest project while he works at his desk, and when he looks up to check up on you he finds it so endearing how your brows are furrowed in concentration. Sometimes, if he's tired of working he'll just come sit across from you and simply watch.

Definitely would discreetly ask you whether you could do the whole amigurumi thing, and then would go on to hint that a Bepo plushie would be pretty cute.

Also, he'd be a complete hypocrite and tell you to fix your posture while you work (like I just know Law sits/sleeps at his desk in the most uncomfortable positions). But it's only because he cares.

If you're someone who draws or paints though, he'll ask for your artistic opinion when he wants to get a new tattoo. He might just even ask you to design it for him.

Would probably keep any artwork that you give him safely in a file or somewhere on his desk where he can look at it every day.

Law would get flustered if you ask him whether you could sketch him, but he would agree since you're asking. Suddenly, he feels very shy under your focused gaze, and even though you told him he can continue doing whatever it is he's doing, he'll try his best to stay still.

If you're someone who writes (stories, poetry, etc.) the two of you would sit across from each other at his table, focused on your own work. If it gets really late he'll be sure to make you a cup of tea, and quietly place it beside you because he doesn't want to disrupt your creative flow.

Again, if he's tired he'd just sit next to you and watch you work while also trying to take a peek at what you're writing. You biting at the tip of your pen lost in thought, brings a small smile to his face.

Law would be more than happy when you ask him to read through your work. He would give you genuine feedback while also showing his appreciation for your talent.

If by any chance you're facing writer's block, he'll suggest that the crew take a day off in a nearby town, and despite being packed with work, he'll take you around in hopes of helping you find something that inspires you.

So I don't know a lot about pottery, but I think Law would be fascinated by the way you mold the clay with such ease and skill, transforming it into something incredible. I think watching you work would relax him.

When you ask him whether he would like to make something himself, he hesitates but agrees with a casual shrug, trying to hide the fact that he's been wanting to try it ever since he saw you do it. Though once he starts he's nervous because he's afraid he'll make a mess, but then your soft laugh and gentle guidance help him relax.

He secretly loves the way your hands rest over his as you direct his movements.

Overall, Law might not always show it, but he loves seeing you express yourself through art. And, though he may not explicitly say it, he's genuinely curious about what inspires you. It helps him see things from a different perspective and also gives him a glimpse into your world.

I was kinda just fantasizing about this, and thought it would be pretty cute. Like can you imagine...oof

#law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #law x you #trafalgar law headcanons #one piece headcanons

170 notes · View notes

melukonova · 2 months

Text

LOVING SEPHIROTH, sephiroth x reader.

tw. mentions of his hurtful past, emotional abuse that miniroth didn't deserve :( this post can be seen as suggestive but it's left mostly to your interpretation

a/n. for @silverflqmes , my best friend who has inspired me to write yet again for something i love and for writing various requests for me, indulging me in my own happiness. you are never leaving this deep hole of ff7 that i dug for you AHAHAHAH! this is also for the many fans who have made fanfics and such that have shaped me now<3 much love to you all! (i will make more headcanons if this gets love) also sephiroth might be a little ooc since he's new territory of writing for me :,)

info. very lovable and soft sephiroth<3 very short blurbs! inspired by the song everything by lifehouse, i can see him relating about you, the reader, and how he feels for you. enjoy! pre-nibelheim!!!

𐚁. sephiroth's love language can be seen as quality time as seen with the time he spent with genesis and angeal, he grew very attached easily. i can see this in a similiar way since i'm sure once you've caught sephiroth's eye, you're happily in his heart. he enjoys just being together, perhaps he'll teach you how to use masamune (a toy version at least since he wants to protect you from injuries). don't get me wrong, every other love language applies for him too but i know he's happiest with the fact that you're there by his side.

𐚁. he is very awkward with affection so the first time you hold him, i think he wouldn't know what to do but he'll awkwardly pat your back while trying not to freak out a bit by being touched since he was experimented on as a child. please teach him how to love, he didn't get enough as kid... i think being patient with him would also warm his heart with you as well. he isn't the best with people, just in using his sword... which is why it's an anomaly to him if you stuck around for this long.

𐚁. indulging ellie on this one: sephiroth with a kitten. he probably is the one to adopt a kitten out of the two of you except what you didn't expect was him to basically mother the kitten. i think his wounds are still healing from the fact that the locket of his mother was torn away from him.. but you guys both loved that kitten very much, naming saikou which means radiance. it is the radiance of both of your lives and definitely a way to heal from your guys' pain, whatever it may be from your end but i know sephiroth suffers from loneliness and feeling not good enough. he feels this much less because of you though and of course, saikou. saikou is now your love rival... the kitty is his precious baby but you are his most prized treasure.

𐚁. while i said quality time is his favorite love language, i think that he likes physical affection as well since he never really knew what it's like to be loved. he wanted to learn though as well as learn to love you which led to teaching him how to cuddle. still very awkward, he's trying his very hardest as he pats your head and encases you into his body. eventually it led to couch cuddles every time he came home from work, he won't say it out loud but this is his favorite part of being able to be with you. he is so beyond smitten.

𐚁. as sephiroth had been in SOLDIER all of his life, he's not completely sure the best way to comfort you on many things but what he can do is to give you a better night! he'd come home with flowers since somehow zack had talked him into buying flowers from his girlfriend, what can i say? zack was a persuasive businessman and sephiroth had no clue how to be a good boyfriend. he'd probably panic if he couldn't make you feel better, he just wants you happy and would slay his enemies (those who wronged you). he'd indulge you in just about anything that you wanted to do between him trying on your favorite dress, self-care day with face masks, kisses all over to make you less insecure or just to feel more loved, an ice cream date, etc. you name it and it's done. he'd even sneak you into the training room on the SOLDIER floor to take you on a loving date with an even more beautiful sunset but all he could see was his sun, you.

𐚁. you already know his hair care routine since it was leaked from your mail, did i mention you were apart of sephiroth's fan club? he uses a WHOLE bottle of shampoo and conditioner. one day you had to braid his hair, adding in flowers to his hair as you braided it. he loved it since it kept his face clear for combat, meanwhile genesis and angeal snickered at him since his s/o made him look all pretty so none of his enemies would take him seriously. masamune said differently than his hair did. if somebody ruined the artwork of your braiding? they ALSO had a date with masamune.

𐚁. he doesn't like a lot of attention as many would say since he is so famous. this is the big question, how did you enter his life in comparison to the fangirls? you understood him. it was a new feeling for him and he didn't know how much he would end up loving it. no thirsting over how hot he was or saying how strong he had been. just a simple: "i know you've been working hard for so long, you deserve some rest," was enough to make him moved by you. nobody could compare to you in his innocent heart. he was so new to every experience, every hug, every kiss, and every touch you gave him. each time was something new that he had learned to love about you and eventually love about himself as well. you helped him to understand he was more than a monster, more than a soldier, more than just a test subject.

𐚁. what you hadn't expect is to find a loving sephiroth in the kitchen with you, holding you close to him as you listened to italian cooking music (the pasta addict in me thinks he'd want to learn more about pasta and its origin). his head was leaning down towards yours while staring down at your lips as you both had been swaying. his hand had been on your waist and the other had been moving up from your shoulder, over your neck slowly with care, to your soft cheek. capturing you in his lips, the water had boiled over but he didn't care at that moment. the thing he clung onto most was this moment because at this moment, sephiroth just knew. he was in love and he finally felt free as he deepened the kiss. he knew where home was and he was kissing his own home, taking in all of what makes you so lovable as well.

melukonova, 2024. 𐀔

#smash bros (🌿)#sephiroth x you #sephiroth x reader #sephiroth ff7 #sephiroth #ff7 x reader #ff7 #ffvii x reader #ngl i can appreciate sephiroth more now cause my bestie open my eyes to the beauty that is analyzing sephiroth

224 notes · View notes

astolfofo · 4 months

Text

I lowkey kinda feel like writing smth for dr ratio but take this idea for now:

Revisited the 36 questions musical (music in it is so banger my god). Imagine you're one of dr. ratio's old classmates. An academic rival if you will. You part ways with him after high school. You could not imagine going to a university with him. You pity the poor students that do.

But he does come back into your life. You've seen him occasionally at your job. YOu do your best to ignore him, treat him like you would with any other colleague that you might have known. At an arm's length. You're not friends with any of them. You certainty would not treat him with more kindness than you would with any other person. Suffice to say, although petty, you had never gotten over how he was just always just barely a mark or two above you.

That was until you realized that the distance between you two was so great, that he was now your boss. You found out he was a professor in a university through the grapevine of your coworkers who can't stop swooning over him. You tried to ignore them, focus on your work, but today, they were loudly announcing that he was going to be the manager of your department. Strange, you think to yourself. He had never seemed to have an interest in your line of work. He had always been highly theoretical. You had turn to be highly practical. He was one meant for the sciences, while you could only surmount to doing practical application. You'd have imagined he would be doing things that were beyond what the mundane could comprehend. He shouldn't be here.

But he was.

WHILE being a professor at one of the top universities. Countless accomplishments, probably a wall full of certificates and awards. You had grown not to care about things like that. But it still felt that he was invading the one thing you were good at. Still though, you wouldn't let it bother you. In the worst case, you'd switch companies, maybe move somewhere else and he wouldn't be a problem anymore.

But Dr. Ratio seems to have different ideas. Management under his hand was very different. You were immidieately promoted to the highest rank, below manager. Much to your distaste, you had told him multiple times to promote one of your coworkers. They had much better qualifications for becoming a manager than you did. But alas, your protests always came to deaf ears.

Suddenly you were crushed by work, tons of pressure, and under his scrutiny. He was a big fan of doing big, risky projects. Ones that you'd always be responsible for if you failed. You'd try to politely deny his requests, but he'd insist, threatening that you'd be fired if you didn't pull through.

At one point you had just had enough.

You coldly place your resignation onto his desk. The box of your belongings was balanced between your hand and your knees.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"My resignation. I'm leaving." You say simply. "Don't try to convince me to stay. Working under you is simply not something I am suited for."

He seems uninterested. He raises an eyebrow at you. "Is that so? I was under the impression that you were doing quite well."

You didn't know whether you wanted to laugh or scream in that second. You were sure your hair was going to turn half-white before he picked up a goddamn clue. You suppose passing out three times and looking like you had your eyes punched wasn't a strong enough indicator.

"Ah... well... I'm flattered you think that way, but I really think it's time for me to move on...."

"And your plan after this is...?"

"Oh. Maybe work at someplace else." You lie, "I have a few options I can choose from, I'll probably end up working at one of those."

Dr. Ratio looks at your face, and then looks up and down. You stand there akwardly waiting for his approval to leave. You began counting down seconds. If he wasn't going to let you leave in the next two minutes, you'd walk out the door yourself.

"Why don't we sit down and talk first? Before you leave."

What? "Oh no sir.. it's fine... really..."

"It's been a few years since we've last seen each other and talked, hasn't it? I was wondering when you were going to approach me again. It's just a shame it's in this way."

He turns around and puts the sheet of paper into the shredder. You look back at him wide-eyed, debating on whether you would just walk straight out.

"Why don't you set your things aside? Maybe put them back on your desk? It's not like you'll be leaving soon. Unless you want to retire now?"

You open your mouth preparing to yell every curse word you can at him.

"Save your insults for later. Now tell me why you pretended not to recognize me for the past year I've worked here."

#Full fic material? maybe #Dr. Ratio #veritas ratio #yandere hsr #yandere dr. ratio #yandere veritas ratio #yandere dr. ratio x reader #dr ratio x reader #hsr veritas #dr ratio x you

209 notes · View notes

kriffingstars · 6 months

Text

Johnny MacTavish; found out

pairing: Johnny MacTavish x Price!Reader summary: you and Johnny get rumbled. Uncle John is not a happy camper warnings: verrrrrry slight age gap (I imagine reader to be around 20, Johnny is 26), canon typical violence, swearing a/n: i wrote this running off of 4 hours sleep on an 8 hour flight, i can only apologise for any typos/sentences that don’t make sense. i did try and check before posting

It's careless really, the way your Uncle finds out about the two of you.

After two months away, he calls you to let you know he'll be home at the end of the week. You get a similar call from Johnny after, letting you know that he'll be all yours for the next few weeks.

At your beck and call, is how he phrases it.

You hadn't forgotten about the letter stuck to the front of the fridge with one of the magnets your Uncle had bought you whilst he was away a few months ago.

On the contrary, you adore it. It's on the fridge because you see it every time you walk into the kitchen. Reading the tentative words in the first love letter you have ever received.

Sweets,

Being away from you is killing me, I'm being safe like I promised, keeping my head in the game, but I can't get you out of my head.

All I'm thinking about is coming home to you, you're going to have to pry me off you when I'm back.

I haven't said it yet but I love you. No one will ever come close to the way I feel about you. You bring me peace, make all the stuff in my head quiet and it's just you.

I can't believe you've been hidden away from me all this time.

When I'm home I'm going to take you out, I'll whisk you away somewhere nice and it'll be just us. No work, no worries and we'll figure it all out.

I hope you're not working too hard like I know you do. You're too smart for any of us, me especially. I could listen to you talk for days. Missing your voice, I'm sorry we can't call, but figured you'd enjoy a letter all the same.

Love your Johnny x

You cried like a baby when it arrived. Even when you're thousands of miles apart he's still thinking about ways to make you happy, and you're more than sure that he is it for you.

No one else could ever compete with the way that he has completely and utterly captured your heart.

Price feels his blood boil as he holds the letter in his hands, eyes flitting over a few of the stand-out phrases in it, written in Johnny's unmistakable handwriting. He's seen it enough on reports he's had to sign off to know it's his without having to even check the last line.

Seething is an understatement as he climbs back into his car, racing back to base to confront the man who has blatantly ignored all the warnings he's given.

It's not even the disrespect that angers him the most, it's the trust that Soap has completely broken. All the assurances, joking that you're a nicer version of him. How it's all just friendly, how he'd never make a move on you.

His thoughts flit back to you, you've got no clue what you've done to yourself. What you've opened yourself up to because if you realised, he's certain you would never have done this to him.

You're out at the moment, god knows where. He was expecting you to be at home considering it's the summer holiday for you. He'll deal with you later, probably more softly and with a bit more tact than the way he knows he's going to deal with Soap when he gets his bloody hands on him.

He's never driven so quickly back to base, even when he's been called in for emergencies.

He doesn't care for the speeding fine he's most likely going to cop, all that's on his mind is tearing Soap limb to fucking limb.

"MacTavish," is all he bellows as he spots the Scotsman, laughing with Ghost about who knows what.

"What the fuck is this?!" he bellows, slapping the letter down on the table in front of the cursed man.

Everything about the action causing the Scotsman in front of him to jump out of his skin.

"You're a dead man, MacTavish. Going to fucking bury you," he shouts as he leaps towards Soap, who's backed away from the table and the letter that's tossed on top of it.

Ghost has never seen the Captain so red, the veins in his neck stand up with rage as a vein down his forehead pulses with anger.

He doesn't waste any time putting himself between the two men, holding Soap back, his t-shirt screwed in his fist, and a flat palm again Price's chest.

It doesn't matter that he's the aggressor in this instance, he's not manhandling his Captain, no matter the issue.

"I told you to stay away, let you be her friend and you ignore everything."

Right. This needs to go somewhere private because this is definitely a personal issue, and there are a lot of eyes on the three of them currently, listening in to everything.

"Not here," is all Ghost needs to say before Price is storming off to his office, not even checking to see if Soap is following. He doesn't need to, Soap knows he'll only make things even worse if he runs now.

"What did you do, mate?" is all he says as he releases the man, pushing him in front, not before grabbing the letter left on the table, as they both march to Price's office.

When they get there papers are strewn, furniture is out of place and Price is pacing and mumbling incoherent threats.

Neither man has ever seen him so riled up, even on the battlefield. It's jarring. Usually, their Captain is so precise with his anger, it's carefully controlled and this is nothing like that.

He doesn't acknowledge them when they come in, he lets them stew in the tension. Waiting to pounce.

"Sit down."

Soap's in the chair in seconds, and for the second time today Ghost sees something new, this time it's Soap moving the fastest he ever has.

"I'm going to ask you questions and you're going to answer them."

Ghost feels like he really shouldn't be here, but if he leaves now he's not certain both men are coming out of this room alive.

Soap's looking absolutely terrified, he's pale and shaking harder than ever. His heart is beating at a rate that's completely unsustainable, he's either going to pass out or go over with a clutcher.

"How long."

Soap is stumbling over his words as he eventually spurts out "Six months,"

"Sir. Six months, sir," Price corrects, as he squares his shoulder, the tension not easing.

"Yes sir, sorry sir," Soap apologises as he bows his head not risking making eye contact.

"You've been lying to me and directly disobeying order for six fucking months!" he spits, as he advances on the man in the chair, before slamming his hand down on the desk next to Soap.

The sound rips through the office and once again Soap is jumping out of his skin at the blistering noise.

"Do you realise what you've done?" is the next thing that comes from Price's mouth. It's barely audible as he gets up in the younger man's face.

Ghost's seen Price interrogate the worst of the worst, and still, nothing could compare to this. The venom in his voice, or the malice in his eyes.

It's personal this time.

"Tell me why I shouldn't gut you from head to toe?" he spits, as he leans back again, waiting for Soap's answer.

"Because I love her, sir."

It's the first time he lifts his gaze the entire interaction.

"You love her?" Price scoffs, as he mocks the man shrinking under his gaze.

"That makes it okay then, why didn't you say so?" he mocks.

Ghost isn't sure what's going to happen next, it certainly isn't what Soap says next.

"I want to marry her, sir. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me, sir."

That was definitely not the right response, and it sends Price reeling.

"Oh, that makes it okay then, should have just said so!" he's seething now. Ghost really didn't think he could get more riled up than he already is, but once again he's surprised which doesn't happen very easily.

"Not only have you disrespected my orders. You've dragged her into your life and now you plan on marrying her now," his voice is steady and now filled with a deeply unsettling calmness.

"Get out of my sight," is the next thing to come out of his mouth before turning his back to the men in the room.

"And don't you ever think of contacting her again."

#john mactavish x reader #john mactavish headcannon #johnny mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish headcannon #john mctavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap mactavish x price!reader #cod mw soap

317 notes · View notes

chimielie · 9 months

Text

got no shame (i love the way you’re screaming my name)

summary: Terushima x Reader. got shame? terushima doesn’t.

word count: 1.6k

cw: terushima’s a slut (who is domesticated unknowingly by reader), bad group project etiquette, general unwiseness.

a/n: this… wasn’t supposed to be this long. essentially nothing happens. it’s completely sfw even though i call terushima a slut. sorry

"Hi," you say brightly, setting your laptop down on the desk next to your assigned project partner. "I was thinking we could set up—"

"Yeah, hang on," he—Terushima, according to the instructor's sign-up sheet—interrupts you. "Hey. Hey. Can I get your number?"

You open your mouth before you realize he's talking to the girl behind you, who agrees as easily as he'd asked. They chat a little while longer, taking their sweet-ass time before he turns back to you and she to her partner.

"So I was thinking we could set up a shared document and do this all online," he says, unapologetic, a lazy grin playing on his mouth. You decide then and there that you hate Terushima Yuuji with everything you have in you.

Miraculously, you survive the group project (with the aid of remote work, aggressively polite wording, and a lot of pep talks from your friends). He should be thankful he survived, you think darkly, casting a glare at him as he chatters to a group of friends across the room. He doesn't know how many times you got through class by imagining wrapping your hands around his neck and just—

Anyway.

You're half-convinced the universe sent him to fuel you with inner rage, because even though you no longer have to work together, he just seems like he's cropping up... everywhere.

He's in the grocery, flirting with the attendant as he struggles with the self-checkout machine. He's in your favorite coffee shop, hanging over the bar while the barista makes your drink. He's even at the parties you go to, his loud laugh penetrating your buzz until you can't think of anything else by the end of the night.

You toy with the idea of accusing him of stalking you, except he'd made it abundantly clear upon your first meeting that he had no clue that you existed on the same earthly plane as him. Plus, at this point, you're slightly worried that it's the other way around.

(You try not to think about the time you'd been lying alone in bed, a little bit wine drunk from a self-care night, legs freshly lotioned, face freshly masked, and one of his social media accounts had happened to pop up on your screen. And your finger had happened to bump the screen and hit follow. And before you could process your actions enough to undo your mistake, a little notification had rung out in the horrified silence: @teru-yuuji followed you back!)

(You had rolled over and screamed into your pillow. You still do the same whenever you think about it too long.)

Anyway, he likes all your updates now, which is terribly annoying because it's not even an acknowledgement of your existence, probably, he probably swipes through everyone's profiles and sends little hearts flying haphazardly because he doesn't care about anyone, or anything. And maybe you can recognize that you're projecting a little bit, obsessing a little bit, but you're pretty sure that you're also starting to experience the same sort of revenge glow-up associated with terrible break-ups without any of the emotional pain, so who cares?

It's not like he knows you're even alive.

"I'm going to die out here," you say out loud, to no one, "and nobody will know."

Your car, steaming—smoking really, but you're trying to be positive—beside you on the side of the road, makes a strange noise in sympathy, and you jump.

In a sorely needed attempt to touch grass, you had ventured by yourself to one of your favorite hiking trails, a secluded spot you and your old car had journeyed to hundreds of times. Its small frame was perfect for the winding, mountainous roads; its engine, apparently, not so much.

Luckily, you still have one bar of cell service, except most people you know don't have a car, your best friend is at work, and when you try to call your father, he doesn't pick up and instead texts you: we went to lunch at this tiny restaurant! This is followed by several images that won't load but that are most likely of his food.

"Useless," you say, "I hate men." Just as a white, tricked-out, and worst of all, familiar car turns the corner, all of its windows down to enjoy the fresh air. You stare at its driver as he passes at about ten kilometers per hour, your eyes wide and despondent, his curious and probably devoid of actual human consciousness.

You momentarily contemplate running the opposite direction into the forest versus asking Terushima for help. As is his way, he interrupts.

"Is your car supposed to be doing that?"

Anything snarky, sassy, or otherwise bitchy you could have answered with dies on your tongue in the face of total, completely confident cluelessness.

"No?" You say, feeling almost as though you're witnessing this absurd interaction from above. "Obviously not?"

"Right," he nods, sliding awful, trendy sunglasses off his face and tucking them up into some compartment before putting his car in park and then exiting. As he advances, you note distantly that his eyes are really, really pretty. "Can I help you out? I am a man, though, just a warning."

He heard you. Great.

"I didn't notice," you say, staring firmly at his middle torso area, which is covered by a shirt which he has cut the arms off of. There are... shoulders, and arms, toned, tan arms showing. And he must have just gotten back from a hike of his own, because the material seems slightly damp with sweat, and it's sticking to what appear to be abs, and you suddenly feel like your car: overheated and broken down. "I guess I can forgive you for that. Just this once. If there's anything you can actually do about," you wave a hand at your car, which has thankfully stopped smoking, "that."

"I can give you a ride," he says, and doesn't seem to realize how completely his tone changes as he does, how his words suddenly sound layered and intimate and... You need to get a grip.

“I have a friend on the way,” you say. You don’t. But he’s still technically a strange man and you know better than to seem completely abandoned.

“Oh? Good,” he says, and you think that’s the end of it. He’ll leave you to your beforested demise. “Can I check the hood real quick, though?”

“Do what you want.” He waits for you to pop the hood—you had earlier, but fuck if you knew what you were looking at.

"Thanks, babe," he says, and you hate him all over again. Then he opens your hood, muscled arms stretching up as he latches the strut in place, bent at the waist ever so slightly, and you're sort of collapsing into a very emotionally confused puddle on the side of the road. "Aw, I think your fan is fucked. I have a buddy I can call, he can tow the car if you want? He’s a mechanic but he can take it to your usual person if you have one.”

"That would be really nice," you blink at him, feeling your mouth stretch into a smile without your permission. "Do you think we could call him now? I don't want to leave my car without being sure someone's coming for it."

"Sure," he nods enthusiastically. "Gimme a sec."

What follows is a bizarre five minutes where Terushima paces in front of where you've seated yourself cross-legged on the road, occasionally casting you furtive glances and muttering things like "Yeah, from the... Yeah, that one. Please, bro, I'll owe you... I'll get you Miwa's number. I promise. When have I ever... Okay, fair, but c'mon. Thank you. I'll give you our first-born."

You tune him out after that, fully baffled.

"Okay!" He finally turns to you, beaming a sunny smile you've never seen on him at you. "He's coming. I sent you his website and shit, so you know he’s real."

“He’s not," you say, holding out a hand so he can help you up. He does, and you immediately regret this decision, because he's standing so close, and his hand is really big in yours, and you're pretty sure you're flirting with him. "You’re crazy."

"You’re funny," he says, and laughs, clear and ringing. He’s flirting with you, but you can’t tell if that’s just his natural dialect or if he’s— "So your boyfriend’s coming to pick you up? Why didn’t he come with you?"

"I don’t need a chaperone," the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them, which is becoming a worrying pattern. "And I don’t have one—a boyfriend, anyway. I was on the phone with my dad when you showed up, you know, ‘I hate men’. Or trying. He's too excited about grand opening discounted fried fish."

"Fried fish is important," he says solemnly, eyes literally twinkling, what the fuck. You didn’t think that was real. "I understand."

“See,” you roll your eyes, “This is why I hate men.” He’s looking at you with a soft gaze that makes you aware of your whole body, down to your toes, and it’s starting to make you flustered. “I, um, I actually don’t have a ride coming.”

“Then why’d you—” he starts.

“I thought you might murder me,” you shrug. “And then I panicked. You don’t seem like a murderer, and we’ve had classes together, so… I’m sorry about that.”

“So,” he looks hopeful, in a way you don’t understand. “You still need a way back?”

“I do,” you nod, “but seriously, if it’s an inconvenience at all, I really don’t want to—”

“Please,” he says. “I’ve been trying to get on your good side for a while. Let me take you home.”

#terushima x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #terushima yuuji x reader #terushima yūji x reader

371 notes · View notes

eluxcastar · 1 year

Note

This is so silly: Fatui Harbingers receiving a bouquet of flowers from their shy s/o?

Harbingers receiving a gift from their s/o

── ୨୧：harbingers x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: it's exactly what's written on the tin but with a side of me being off my head again

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader

୨୧﹑words :: 950

I'm so in love with the requests that let me answer them like a crackhead. but also I'm so sorry to the anons who want me to be serious I've just got the sillies. I spent the entire time calling it a pot until I realised the thing I was actually referring to is a vase and had to go back and change it all

if you're wondering where the shy part went, it was lost to this phenomenon called "I can't read" and by the time I realised it said that I was already done. I feel like this is the second time it's happened.

Alright usual order Tartaglia first. I'll be honest; I have no clue. Like, I literally left his here just saying, "Alright usual order", because what the FUCK would he do. He doesn't seem like a flower person, but also it being his s/o changes that so much because his s/o might make him a flower person. You could guess his favourite colour is yellow and suddenly it's yellow because he's so normal for you. He didn't even like flowers, but omg, you got him flowers. These are his new favourite flowers ever kinda thing.

Next is Arlecchino (more food is coming I promise), and tbh, I feel like she'd enjoy receiving flowers. It's not an overly flashy gift, and it probably took a lot for you to go out of your way to get that for her, let alone give it to her. She appreciates that you would get her a gift at all because receiving gifts feels nice sometimes. You can have a kiss for your flowers.

Third would be Pantalone, whose I kinda answered. Flowers are a gift, and honestly, I love the idea that as long as the gifts have sentimental value, that's what he'll treasure the most. He's gonna display those in his nicest vase for people to see. Why would you be nervous about that? The thought of what people think of them? No need. Nobody critiques his decor and means it. They know better.

La Signora would appreciate them, but they gotta be nice, yk? And like, you've gotta pay attention. There's no point if you just get whatever's available. Does she like those kinds of flowers? Do they smell nice? Compliment their surroundings? It's in the details that say you care because, to her, it means you were paying enough attention to consider it for what is a very standard gift for many people.

I did Scara then realised I forgot Sandrone omg anyway flowers, she would love those in her own silly little way. They're nice, and it's so cute that you went to the effort that she might just smile at you. She's 100% gonna keep those to herself and just stare at them for a while because someone got her a gift (this basically never happens) (if it did who the fuck are they?? unimportant 🙄)

Aight we got Scaradouche. Firstly no way this man is going to let you immediately know you got him a gift he likes. Flowers? That's such a girly present to give someone 🙄🙄 (They'll be in a pot on his dresser within the hour). He wouldn't usually want flowers, but since you already went and got them, he'll just have to. Just a little, I think he'd be losing it on the inside, kinda like when someone says they're so normal about something, and you know they're fucking lying. Like that

I totally missed Pulcinella last time, so he can get some flowers now. Honestly, I can see why I forgot him. I probably intended to do him but didn't have an idea and was like, "I'll come back to it", then got hit with this thing called filthy liar syndrome. Old people like flowers so he'd be happy with that, something nice to add some colour to a room or something Idk I'm not old (I'M SORRY I'LL BE SERIOUS). Some of you have no grandfather OR father you just like me fr so I'll throw in for y'all that he'd be proud of you for picking out such a nice gift and acquiring it of your own accord (which you are capable of) because it must've been difficult to get past the initial conversation starter problem.

Already off that train, we're finally at Capitano. I can't say for sure cause he has two lines but tbh, he seems like he'd like it. You can have a nice pat on the head and everything cause aww you went to all that effort just for him? That deserves a nice cuddle ❤️

Columbina thinks of it like anything else you do, more confused as to what the occasion is than anything and not very sure what provoked you to do this, but she accepts it and thanks you nonetheless because she still does like it. She just also wants to know what you're doing and why, but she's satisfied with the answer that you just wanted to and cuts you off before the apologies if she doesn't like it.

What the fuck did you get Dottore flowers for?? Like, what would he do with them?? That's awkward. He'll take them off your hands, but after that, he kinda just 🧍 because what else does he do? He can look at them and sit them somewhere, but like they have no purpose. The effort is nice. He probably doesn't want these again tho unless he can use them for something. You'll get a thanks, but like he's kinda bad at hiding that he's got no idea what to do with it. Get him some flowers that are useful rather than decorative maybe?

We are at Pierro, and I think it's a bit of a mix. On the surface, he may seem like he doesn't want them and only accepts them to save your feelings but secretly treasures them ❤️ I like the idea of him being sentimental toward his s/o because something about it is just cute. It also matches the vibe, like, he's got a very closed-off exterior that you are used to that's meant to hide that adorable and undeniably vulnerable interior that really, really loves you and all of the things you do for him.

438 notes · View notes

tragedybunny · 5 months

Text

Absolution

༺Summary༻

Astarion and Serafina have an argument and Astarion does what he thinks is necessary to keep her with him. Set before his Act 2 confession.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav/OC)

༺Warnings༻ PiV sex, oral sex, all occurring while Astarion disassociates.

༺Word Count༻ 2441

༺A/N༻ Although most of my reader fics are based my Tav, Serafina, and my experience playing the game as her, this is the first fic I've written featuring her as a named character. And it's my first BG3 fic in 3rd person. I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks to @satanicspinosaurus for the wonderful beta.

The scene from earlier plays over and over in his mind.

“You don't know anything about me, Astarion! So just leave it be.” Sera, sweet, kind, gentle, patient Serafina, had yelled at him. Not once since they'd met on that beach had their erstwhile leader even raised her voice slightly at him. And today she shouted at him. All because she couldn't read Elvish and he'd reacted with the same humor she’d claimed to enjoy. Turning it on him as though he’d been the one in the wrong.

They'd been seated around the fire while Wyll took his turn “cooking”, going through some papers and books they'd found in the wake of a goblin attack. They were looking for any clues into the cult's movements or plans. Sera had plucked a small, neatly bound journal from the pile and turned it over in her hands. It was a thing clearly well-made and cared for. She'd opened it gently, respectful of the fine binding holding it all together.

Her brilliant blue eyes had scanned a few pages before she gave out a frustrated sigh. “Elvish,” she muttered, snapping it shut violently and thrusting it at Astarion. “You'll probably have better luck with that.”

He wasn't sure why he did it. The half-elf’s reaction was disproportionate to simply encountering a foreign language, that was obvious. Maybe it was because he’d become too used to teasing her since they’d started their “relationship.” Their easy back and forth banter giving him the foreign feeling of acceptance.

Or maybe it was his own way of trying to deny those irritatingly tender feelings that had started to creep in whenever he caught her glancing his way or their hands touched, or she laughed at one of his jokes. The need to push back against them, sharpening his tongue and drawing out ancient bias.

Whatever caused it, he should’ve thought before opening his mouth. “Can’t read Espruar? Someone got forgotten by one parent. Is that why you threw a tantrum and ran-”

“Shut up!” Sera leapt up from the log she’d been seated on and glared at him. “You don’t know anything about me, Astarion! So just leave it be.”

With that, she’d stormed off and left him silently stunned, as though awaiting a reprisal that didn’t come. Around him, their companions pretended to look away and he caught a few whispers on the air. “What are you all looking at? It’s not my fault she suddenly can’t take a joke.” He’d sulked off to his own tent, waiting until her tantrum had passed and everyone forgot his misstep. He’d assumed Sera would cool down and come out for dinner, but instead she’d remained stubbornly locked away. Karlach had brought her a bowl of what they were generously calling stew.

Everyone had eaten and retired for the evening and she was still pouting. Which brought him to now, slinking his way across camp toward her tent. He had to do something, he couldn't watch his hard won protection slip away. It absolutely had nothing to do with the fact that Sera gave him a little kiss and wished him goodnight every other night lately and it had been noticeably withheld tonight.

The way the moonlight filtered through the trees, one solid beam pointing down on her tent, a poet might say that Selune was guiding him. Poets were idiots. Parting the flap just the smallest amount, he starts to slip inside, intent on waking her to settle things if he needed to, when a sound stopped him. A strangled cry, was it directed at him? He froze, half inside, the errant moonbeam that slipped around him haloing her with soft illumination.

Another wordless cry. Only a nightmare, nothing to be concerned with. Stepping in, he lets the tent shut, plunging them both back into darkness. With a predator’s stealth, he approaches her bedroll, kneeling down, eyes subconsciously glancing at the healing puncture wounds on her neck.

“Let me out.” Her sudden words startle him.

Stumbling backwards, he nearly loses his balance to go sprawling across the floor. His skin suddenly heated, as though the breath that carried those words could burn him.

Another sob comes as she thrashes around a bit. “Please, I won't run,” unintelligible sounds follow the small plea. “Let me out.”

Locked up. She'd been locked up too. Regaining himself, he crept toward her again, as she shook and cried. Someone had hurt her. But who would want to do that?

She was Sera, unfailingly kind; who aided refugees, saved children, fought monsters, and foolishly fed manipulative vampires.

The sobbing becomes frantic and without thinking he reaches out to gently grasp her shoulder. “Sera,” she struggles against his touch with a whimper. Growling in frustration, he shakes her a little more roughly. “Serafina!”

Eyes snap open to behold him with wide pupils as her chest heaves. “A-Astarion?” Sitting quickly, she pulls away from him, and he feels a sudden sting in his chest. “What are you doing here?” She hisses, apparently still angry with him.

“You were having a nightmare.” He replies, trying to soften his voice, to be the lover she had come to expect.

“Hmm,” her eyes focus across the tent to an empty lantern, “fiat lux.” Small little motes of light appear in the lantern, swirling gently in their prison, as Sera draws her knees up to her chest. “Well, I'm awake now, you can go.”

The forlorn gaze and empty voice were nothing like the Serafina he'd come to know and the unsettled sensation in the back of his mind grows. He cleares his throat, trying to get the words moving. “I didn’t come just to wake you up, I wanted to…apologize. For earlier. I’m sorry, the joke was in poor taste.”

Turning her head, she glances his way from where it rested on her knees. She looks so small like this, so far from the fierce woman who’d led them from the moment of the crash. “Apology accepted, I probably took it too personally.”

It didn’t quite ring true, but he plows on anyway, hoping maybe those blue eyes would light back up for him. “The truth is, I’m actually a bit rusty with Espruar myself. But maybe I could teach you and it would be good practice for me.” He affects the warmest smile he could, sure the gesture would win her over.

Instead, she shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t actually matter all that much. Thanks for the thought though. You can go, I’m not still mad at you. I’ll see you in the morning.”

That was not his Serafina. He has to do something, to fix this. To keep her on his side. Reaching out, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her into his lap, lips closing over hers. “What’s this about?” She huffs as her skin began to flush a pretty pink.

“Pleading my apology some more,” his voice drops to the low sultry tone that made her pulse jump in a way he could hear.

“I said you were forgiven.” Despite her protest, her arms encircle his neck, pulling him closer.

“Your words said that, but your eyes spoke differently.” His lips trace a line of kisses from her lips to the lobe of her ear, making her sigh.

This was what he could do for her, what he did best. It was a skill honed by two hundred years of unwilling practice, and like so many before, a skill she was willing to make use of. At least it was easy enough with Sera, she was sweet and gentle, and he knew she'd never harm him. And it wasn't as though a part of him didn't want her, she was a pretty little thing. That part was just bound up with all the other parts that hated what his body had been used for. If he had to open his pants for anyone, he supposes he was glad it was her.

“I meant it, but- gods Astarion!” He runs his tongue along the point of her ear, less sensitive than his, but still enough to start driving her mad.

“In that case, we'll call it making up for my behavior earlier.” Guiding her to face him, legs straddling his, her warm core settles against his hips. He kisses his way back down to her throat, already feeling his mind growing distant from his actions.

Lips linger near the marks on her neck, and she squirms in his lap. “Do you want to?”

He could never say no to that offer. Without hesitation, his fangs sink into her flesh, and succulent liquid pours into his throat. It adds to what little pleasure he’s able to wring from what he was about to do. Sera whimpers and writhes in his lap, grinding down on his growing erection. She hadn’t started out allowing him to feed on her as some form of pleasure, but she had given him her neck as often as the rest of her body, and the two had become inextricably tied together.

Just a sip for tonight, after everything that had happened, he couldn’t ask too much. Too soon he pulls his fangs away to lap at the remainders and kiss the wounds. Blood and a distant mind, this was good as it would be for him. “Let's get this out of the way.” Fingers grip the hem of her shirt and guide it over her head.

She shivers as the night air caresses her skin and leans into him. It was almost enough to make him laugh, there was nothing about him that could provide any warmth. Instead he continues kissing his way down her chest, nipping lightly until her back arches into him and she makes a needy noise.

“Patience,” he chides her, releasing his grip on her to remove his own shirt.

Hands encircle her waist in an iron grip, holding her firmly in place while tongue and teeth tease her rosebud nipples. Fingers trace his back as she pants, trying to contain all the noises that could wake the camp. Her nails ghost along his flesh, and he senses she longs to dig them in.. She hadn’t even attempted to ask about it. Why did she afford him such gentleness, was she wary that it would be too much on his scarred flesh?

Lips leave off her hardened peaks to capture hers again, and she grinds against him even harder. No doubt her small clothes were soaked. “You drive me mad,” she whispers, lost in desire.

Just as he’d wanted, Serafina, hurt feelings and nightmares forgotten. “You enjoy it.” He captured her lip between his teeth for a second and nibbles. “Stand up, take your pants off for me.” He awaits her on his knees, as a penitent seeking their absolution.

She’s so occupied, she doesn’t notice as his gaze finds the dancing lights in the lantern, and watches them swirl aimlessly until she’s naked before him. Gripping her thighs, he pulls her in, holding them apart so his tongue can swipe along her sex, as soaked as he predicted. Sera’s not a bard, but she sings for him anyway. Fingers grip into his curls, not too tightly. Sometimes he wishes she wouldn’t be so damn gentle, that she'd be like everyone else, someone easy to use, instead of, whatever all this was.

“Astarion,” she keens as he slips two fingers inside her, tongue running over her clit.

He laps and suckles at it almost as fiercely as he does the wounds he leaves in her neck. The fingers inside her find the spot that causes her knees to buckle and another cry to leave her. She’s close, just a little more, and he could leave it for the night.

“I want you inside me.” He stiffens, inhaling deeply.

“Do you now, my sweet?” He nips her thigh playfully with his fangs while his stomach drops. “Then come down here.”

As soon she hits her knees, he's positioning her on all fours, he can’t look her in the eyes right now. He tears his pants open, eyes finding the lights again, concentrating on them as he pushes inside her. She’s warm and wet as she pushes back against him, eager to have all of him. Because she chooses him. No matter how many of his rough edges and dark corners she finds, she wants him. Would she still want him if she saw it all?

Forget it, he tells himself, pushing that thought away. He clears his mind until there’s only the moment, the sensation left, hips slapping against hers, the way her body clenches around his cock, how she eagerly sucks the fingers he puts in her mouth so she has something to absorb the moans.

It’s almost enough to completely lose himself, his cock twitches. It’s spectacular, the way she meets every thrust and takes everything he has to give. “Touch yourself,” he urges, eager for her to come undone.

Her own fingers slide between her folds, working feverishly. It’s not long before the noises muffled by his fingers become frantic and she tightens around him.

“That’s it, my darling, let go.” With another deep thrust, he allows himself a release. “Sera,” he gasps, knowing it will please her to hear her name on his lips.

They collapse next to one another on the bedroll, Sera quick to snuggle up in his arms. It takes longer than it should to embrace her, his body wanting to run. “Is everything alright?” She asks, innocently, from where she lays, head on his chest. Maybe there are merciful gods, she can’t see his face.

“Of course, love. I think I may have worn myself out after all the walking today.” Softly, he kisses her head, he can’t let her suspect.

“Well don’t complain tomorrow, Lae’zel will blame me for sure. I don’t think I was very discreet.” She laughs, sounding like sleep is already returning to her.

“But you are to blame. If you weren’t so irresistible.” He tries to laugh as well. This stupid, sweet girl, why does she lay in a monster’s arms and giggle?

With a yawn, she gives him an out. “You should probably go, I’m going to fall asleep soon and don’t want to trap you here.”

One more kiss, even as his mind insists on fleeing. “Goodnight my love, rest well, and I’m sorry again.”

“For what?”

“For earlier.” For everything.

Tag list:

@micropoe10 @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

@tallymonster @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin

@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird

@darlingxdragon @wanderingisobel @astarionsbeloved

@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @volotramp @misscrissfemmefatale @bg3obsessedsideblog @captainaceofspades @wickedwitchofthewilds @asterordinary

#bg3 #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #astarion x tav #bg3 tav #bg3 tav: Serafina #my fanfic #my writing #astarion x oc

171 notes · View notes

moonlightdreamzz · 7 months

Text

FOR LIFE — Choi Yeonjun

SUMMARY ✰ You don’t want to bother your ex-boyfriend, Yeonjun, but in the midst of intense heartbreak and questioning why the ones you love always leave you, you have no choice but to invite him over to help you make sense of it.

GENRE ✰ Ex!Yeonjun, Firstlove!Yeonjun, ANGST

🎧 ➤ For Life by EXO

You swipe down on your phone to check the time, which reads 10:00PM.

Your lower lip is practically bleeding from how hard you're biting it, all because of the nervousness you feel as you hover over Yeonjun's phone number. You know you shouldn't reach out to him, even though the last time he saw you, six months ago, his lips planted a delicate kiss on your forehead and he assured you that you could call him whenever you need him.

It’s selfish though, is it not? To interrupt whatever peace he’s gained since the two of you broke up, all because you haven’t been able to find your own? A year and a half has passed, and based off of the scraps of his life he’s allowed you to have through social media, he seems so much better off. He’s constantly traveling, glowing, and you know him—he’s way too beautiful and perfect to not have replaced you by now.

“Fuck it.” You utter. With a shaky thumb, and a quivering voice, you press the call button. You have no clue whether he’ll pick up the phone for you. All you know is that more than anything, you need to hear his voice, and as your first love, and the only ex you don’t absolutely despise, he’s the only person qualified to assist you in this moment.

You’re sitting on the floor in-front of your bed in fetal position, rocking back and forth to the sound of the phone ringing. After three rings, it stops, and so does your heart for a second. Did he send you to voicemail? He probably did. I mean, you would've sent yourself to voicemail if you're being completely honest.

“Hello?”

His voice is clear and unwavering, and now you're frozen in place. Your mouth opens and then closes repeatedly, but words refuse to come out of your mouth and you aren't sure why.

"Hello? Y/N? Maybe she called by accident." He mutters. You hear him getting out of his chair in his studio, the squeaky sound instantly reminding you of all the times you curled up into his lap, content as long as you're with him, but silently wishing he'd give it up for the night and take you home so the two of you could sleep.

“Um, it’s me. Me, as in Y/N. Wait—you know that already.”

You start to relax a little when you hear his consoling chuckle that he uses when you're amusing him. “You don’t think I deleted your number, did you?” You don’t have to see him to know that his left brow has raised teasingly.

“Well it has been a long time.”

“It doesn’t matter how much time has passed. I told you that you can call me whenever. I’m always going to care about you.”

You know he’s a saint—everybody does, but it still catches you off guard every time. His tone is so genuine, and you can hear his the confident smile he’s wearing on his face. He knows he has you feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, holding in your squeal of excitement that you would totally let out if he wasn’t still on the other line.

“Thanks.”

“Is that all you called for? To hear my voice? I didn’t know we were allowed to do that.”

Your eyes shut, and without regret, you slap yourself on the forehead. God, why is he still so good at taking your breath away? “No.” You sigh, “I just—I really just…ugh.”

“Take your time.” He coos.

“Yeonjun.” You wine, a shy hiccup escaping your throat.

“Okay, I’m sorry. It’s just so easy to tease you. What’s wrong?”

“If I’m being honest, I’m a mess.”

“You’re not a mess, Y/N. Don’t say that.”

Had this been a few months ago, you’d stop him right there, asking him if you’re truly not a mess, why didn’t he stay? But that would ruin the mood, wouldn’t it? You hate how quick your emotions change. You were happy to hear his voice—enjoying your nostalgic back and forth, but now your entire body feels icky and tears are welling up in your eyes.

“Well something isn’t right, because I keep giving my all to people and they keep sucking the life out of me and leaving.”

Silence.

“Can I come over?” He says. You don’t know whether to be surprised or not. You know him—he probably felt a rush of guilt from your subtle, but sharp words. Guilt is what you believe kept the two of you together as long as you were. You really don’t know the truth, because all he said when he broke up with you is the cop-out “I’m too overwhelmed” instead of saying what it really was.

“I mean—yeah, of course. But you don’t have to. You actually can hang up and pretend I never called if you want. This is weird anyways for you I’m sure.” You force a laugh to try and lighten the mood, and he mimics you.

“I owe it to you. I’ll be over in like thirty minutes.” Is all he says before hanging up.

The room suddenly feels both emptier and warmer after Yeonjun's promise to come over. You take a deep breath, a mix of relief and apprehension settling within you. The rhythmic ticking of the clock becomes more pronounced as you gather your thoughts, realizing the gravity of what you've just set in motion.

After what seems like an eternity, a soft knock interrupts the silence. You hesitate for a moment before getting up, your legs feeling like jelly. You open the door, and there he is, Yeonjun, with that familiar reassuring smile.

"Hey," he greets, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

Ah, there it was. The paralyzation of your mind and mouth whenever your orbs greeted each other. It didn’t matter how long you prepared your words, everything always disappeared when he was in-front of you. What did you invite him over for again?

You manage a nervous laugh, realizing the irony of the situation. "I think I invited you over to... discuss life, or maybe just to remind myself what it feels like to have someone who understands." You slowly back away from the door, which allows him to step in. Flashbacks of him being nose to nose with you try to creep in, but you’re still fighting.

Yeonjun smirks, his eyes holding a playful glint. "Well, I'm here for both, and anything else you need. Discussing life is kind of my specialty."

The room settles into a comfortable quietude, filled only with the soft hum of distant city sounds. Yeonjun's presence brings a warmth that transcends the physical space, as if the air is charged with the shared history between you two.

"Can I sit?" Yeonjun questions softly. He refuses to look at the couch, and you wonder if it’s because he can’t help but be reminded of every kiss, touch, and comfort the two of you have shared on its worn cushions.

You nod, giving him permission as you try to read the emotions flickering in his eyes. He chooses a spot on the floor instead, perhaps opting for a neutral space that doesn't carry the weight of history.

The silence stretches for a moment, both of you enveloped in your thoughts. You can't help but steal glances at him, the playfulness from earlier replaced by a quiet contemplation. The ghost of a smile tugs at his lips, hinting at the shared nostalgia.

“So.” You utter.

“So.” He repeats.

“I uh—you’re my first love.”

"I know," he replies softly, a mixture of understanding and a hint of regret in his voice.

"My first... everything," you remind yourself in the moment, the vulnerability in your words echoing the raw emotions that brought him to your apartment tonight.

Yeonjun shifts on the floor, adjusting to the weight of your confession. "I remember," he says, his tone gentle. "It's not something you easily forget."

A bittersweet smile plays on your lips as you recall the shared moments that shaped your past. "You left, though. You left me wondering what was wrong with me."

He looks down, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the floor. "Y/N, I didn't leave because of you. It was me, my own issues. I didn't handle things the way I should have."

Your eyes meet his, searching for sincerity in the depths of his gaze. "But it felt like I wasn't enough. Just like now, with someone else. I keep wondering if there's something inherently wrong with me."

Yeonjun sighs, a heavy exhale that carries the weight of shared struggles. "Y/N, it's not you. You're not the problem. Sometimes people leave not because of who you are, but because of where they are in their own journey. It took me a while to understand that."

You take a deep breath, the truth settling in your chest. "I just wanted you to know... why I called you tonight. It's like history repeating itself, and I needed someone who understands."

Yeonjun's gaze softens, a silent invitation for you to share your story. The weight of unshed tears lingers in your eyes as you begin to unravel the painful narrative of your recent past.

"It's Yuta," you admit, the name carrying a bitter taste on your tongue. "He came into my life when I was convinced I was done with relationships. Said all the right things, made me believe there was something real between us."

Yeonjun listens, his expression a mix of empathy and concern. You trace invisible patterns on your palms, a feeble attempt to anchor yourself in the vulnerability of the moment.

"But the moment I started to like him, he turned distant, hot and cold," you continue, your voice cracking slightly. "It was like he played this game, and I didn't understand the rules. One day he was all in, and the next, he acted like we were strangers."

Yeonjun's jaw tightens, a subtle display of the protective instinct he still holds for you. "He doesn't deserve you," he says, his voice carrying an undercurrent of anger.

The pain in your chest intensifies as you delve deeper into the tangled web of emotions. "I thought I was over these insecurities, that I could move on. But it hurts, Yeonjun. It hurts to feel like I'm not enough, like no matter how hard I try, someone will always find a reason to leave."

Tears threaten to spill over, and you look away, hoping to hide the vulnerability etched across your face. The room feels suffocating, a reminder of the cycles of heartache you find yourself trapped in.

But the echoes of Yuta's actions linger, reopening old wounds and casting shadows on the love that once bloomed in this very room. The irony of finding solace in the person who was once the source of your joy is not lost on you, and the weight of it all presses heavily on your shoulders.

In a desperate attempt to redirect the overwhelming emotions, you turn to Yeonjun, your voice trembling. "Why did you leave, Yeonjun? Was it me? Am I too much, too clingy? Not pretty enough? I need to understand."

Your words spill out in a frantic torrent, the questions forming a chaotic symphony in your mind. The room seems to close in as you anxiously await his response, fingers twisting together in a silent plea for clarity.

Yeonjun's eyes flicker with guilt, a deep-rooted understanding of the pain he once caused you. "Y/N, it's not about you. It never was. I had my own issues, my own demons. I ran because I was scared, and I didn't know how to face them."

"But why?" you press, desperation lacing your voice. "I need to know. I can't keep replaying scenarios in my head, wondering what I did wrong."

He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration. "It's not about you being too much or not enough. You were everything. It's about me not being enough for myself."

Your heart pounds in your chest, the words sinking in but offering little solace. The uncertainty gnaws at your sanity, and you're on the verge of a breakdown without even realizing it. The fear of inadequacy, the fear of repeating the same cycle with Yeonjun that you did with Yuta—it's all too much to bear.

"I just wanted to be good enough for you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I wanted to be enough for someone, anyone."

The room hangs in a fragile balance, the unspoken emotions swirling between you and Yeonjun. The weight of your insecurities crashes against the fragile walls you've built, threatening to break you down completely. As you grapple with the echoes of your past and the uncertainty of the present, you find yourself caught in a storm of emotions, hoping that somewhere in this chaos, you can find the answers you so desperately seek.

Yeonjun's frustration simmers beneath the surface, a storm gathering in the calm of his expression. His eyes, once warm, now reflect the turmoil within. He takes a deep breath, his words measured but carrying an edge of exasperation.

"Y/N, I need you to understand," he begins, his tone low but intense. "You didn't make it easy for me to leave. In fact, you were the hardest person to walk away from. But being around you, it felt suffocating."

Your heart skips a beat, the words hitting you like a punch to the gut. "What do you mean?"

He runs his hands through his hair, a gesture of frustration. "You're perfect, Y/N. An angel. I'm not. I never was. Being with you highlighted everything I wasn't. It was like standing next to a light so bright, I couldn't help but cast a darker shadow."

His confession hangs in the air, the weight of his words sinking into the very core of your being. The truth, raw and unfiltered, leaves you speechless.

"And you," he continues, his eyes never leaving yours, "you attract darkness, not because there's something wrong with you, but because you're so full of light. Some people, like Yuta, and every guy before him, they weren't ready for that light. They wanted to take your good energy and use it to mask their own dark souls, leaving you with the shattered pieces."

Tears blur your vision as the truth unravels before you. The ache in your chest deepens, the realization settling in that the very qualities that make you extraordinary are the ones that others find intimidating, overwhelming.

Yeonjun's frustration morphs into a deep sense of regret, his eyes pleading for your understanding. "I wasn't ready for you, Y/N. I was too consumed by my own darkness. It's not about you being too much. It's about me not being enough for someone as pure and good as you."

There’s a silence that’s so sharp, it’s suffocating.

"Why don't you hate me?" he questions, his gaze searching yours. "After everything, after being the first one to abandon you, why don't you hate me like you seem to hate everyone else?"

In the dimly lit room, as the shadows dance across Yeonjun's features, you find yourself captivated by the familiar lines of his face. The subtle play of light highlights the contours, and you take a moment to appreciate the details that you've come to cherish.

His eyes, deep and expressive, hold a universe of emotions that have both comforted and challenged you. You remember the times they sparkled with laughter, the warmth that enveloped you in moments of shared joy. Now, in the quiet of the room, they reflect a mixture of concern and care, amplifying the intensity of your emotions.

You look at him, a myriad of emotions playing on your face. "I honestly don't know, Yeonjun. All I know is that you're the only one I can't get over. The one my mind always takes me back to. I love you, and I don't want to, but I do."

The weight of your admission hangs in the air, and you can feel the vulnerability of your heart laid bare. Yeonjun's eyes widen slightly, registering the depth of your words. His silence carries a mixture of surprise and understanding, and in that moment, you wonder if your hearts are resonating in the quiet space between you.

"Y/N, I never wanted to hurt you like this. Knowing that I'm the one you can't get over, despite everything, makes me feel a thousand times worse."

"Yeonjun," your voice trembles, "is there any part of you that still loves me?"

For a moment, Yeonjun hesitates, his eyes flickering away from yours as if avoiding the intensity of your gaze. The air seems to thicken, anticipation mourning. Finally, he meets your eyes again, his expression a mix of sadness and resolution.

"Y/N, I..." he pauses, choosing his words carefully, "I've loved you, and a part of me probably always will. But it's been a long time, and I've had to accept that you deserve more than I could give you. You deserve someone who won't hurt you, who can give you the love and stability you deserve."

Your doe-like, teary eyes lock onto his, seeking the truth that you've been denied for so long. You can sense the sincerity in his words, and even though the truth stings, there's a part of you that appreciates the honesty you've yearned for.

"Thank you for being honest with me, Yeonjun," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. It's a bittersweet acknowledgment, a painful acceptance of the reality you've been avoiding.

Yeonjun's inner monologue swirls with conflicting emotions as he observes you, the ache in his chest almost palpable. As he maintains his gaze on you, his internal struggle remains concealed behind a veil of remorse. While he acknowledges his shortcomings and the belief that he doesn't deserve you, there's a tumultuous storm of conflicting emotions within him.

I want to kiss her. The thought echoes in his mind like a persistent whisper, each word resonating with a desire that threatens to consume him. As he sees the pain in your eyes, the longing to comfort you intensifies. He imagines the taste of your lips, the warmth of your embrace—familiar sensations that once brought solace and joy.

To fall into her, to sob into her chest. The yearning is raw, a deep ache that transcends physical touch. He imagines the release of tears, the vulnerability of exposing his soul to you. The safety he once found in your embrace feels like a distant memory, and the realization of the chasm between them intensifies the pain.

I wish I could be toxic. The admission lingers in his thoughts, a confession he's never dared to voice. The allure of toxic patterns, the chaos that might temporarily numb the pain, has crossed his mind. But he refrains, acknowledging the destructive consequences it would bring to both of you.

I don't want to disappoint her ever again. The final realization echoes with a profound truth. The fear of letting you down, of causing more pain, holds him back from laying bare the entirety of his emotions. His commitment to your well-being, despite the internal chaos, remains unwavering.

You're too caught up in the sound of your heart breaking to notice the whirlwind in his mind.

Once again, the room falls silent. Neither of you knows what to do or say. Lost in your own thoughts, you both stare through each other, searching for a way through the emotional haze.

Breaking the silence, Yeonjun takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to tenderly caress your cheek. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver through your body, the sensation a paradoxical mixture of comfort and ache. "Goodnight," he murmurs, his eyes holding a depth of emotions he's yet to articulate. "I hope I helped, even a little."

As he turns to leave, the gravitational pull of his departure becomes palpable. The door seems both a physical and emotional barrier, and it's in this charged moment that you act on an impulse you can no longer suppress. Your hand reaches out, grasping his arm, pulling him back towards you.

His eyes widen with surprise, and before either of you can fully comprehend the situation, your lips meet in a kiss that holds the weight of shared history and unspoken desires. The kiss is a magnetic collision, a dance of emotions too long confined. Yeonjun responds immediately, the barriers crumbling as he embraces the intimacy of the moment.

In the heat of the moment, Yeonjun lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around him as he carries you towards the bedroom. The physical and emotional boundaries blur as you lose yourselves in the shared journey, an exploration of a space where the weight of the past can be confronted and, perhaps, rewritten.

Behind the closed bedroom door, the air crackles with intensity as the kiss deepens, becoming a language of its own. Yeonjun's hands explore the familiar landscape of your body, each touch igniting a spark of desire that had long been dormant. The warmth of the room mirrors the heat between you, and as your bodies meld, the boundaries that once confined you seem to dissolve.

With a gentle urgency, Yeonjun lowers you onto the bed, the weight of his body pressing against yours. The layers of clothing become obstacles, and with a shared understanding, you begin to dismantle the barriers that separate you. The room becomes a haven for rediscovery, a sanctuary where past wounds are soothed by the tender exploration of each other's skin.

As you both lie together, catching your breath, the room feels charged with unspoken feelings. In the quiet aftermath, Yeonjun looks into your eyes, and in that moment, you sense a promise of healing and a new beginning. The heaviness of the past isn't gone, but it feels a bit lighter, as if the shared vulnerability and intimacy of the night have carried some of the weight away.

As the stillness settles over the room, a soft plea escapes your lips, breaking the quiet. "Stay, just for tonight," you murmur, your eyes reflecting a vulnerability that has long been concealed. "I want to feel loved, even if it's just for a little while."

Yeonjun, his gaze holding a mixture of understanding and remorse, sighs. The weight of the unspoken hangs in the air, but there's a tenderness in his eyes that speaks of shared pain. In that moment, he reaches out and brushes your braid from your face, his touch a gentle reassurance.

"I can stay," he says somberly, a promise laced with the acknowledgment of the complexities between you. "Just for tonight."

#txt #yeonjun #kpop black reader #txt imagines #yeonjun imagines #txt angst #tomorrow x together #txt yeonjun #kpop ambw #kpop imagines #txt scenarios #kpop x black reader #Yeonjun imagine #yeonjun angst

227 notes · View notes

ronearoundblindly · 21 days

Note

I loved how you answered for Jake 🥺

If your still doing them, no pressure!!! How about Fools rush in! Steve for..

4. Who initiates affection? Why does the other not initiate affection as much?

14. Do they enjoy PDA, or are they more private with affection?

20. How do they comfort each other when one of them is upset? Is this method of comfort effective?

Questions are from this ask game and for the Fools Rush In series with Steve Rogers x lab tech!Reader.

Lol ok, I love his frustrated face, but I will also attempt to include some new info in this since I don't want to beat the Fool's struggle bus to death. *mild cursing

**Dude, this took an ANGSTY turn and I'm sorry-not-sorry.

This, too, is an evolution. Those very early days, you were both so tentative. Steve showed affection by spending time with you—as best he could while so busy—because that’s his love language. Being near was enough for probably a lot longer than it should have been. The exact reasons are hard to parse, but basically, Steve needs permission to show physical affection and then he still had trouble communicating why he was so unsure of himself. Not you. He’s sure he wants to show you affection. He’s unsure how to.

He needs you to take the lead, just at first, just until his confidence builds. He’s so private with his personal life that he became comfortable completely closed off. Each little step is a big deal.

First, he needs verbal assurance, then gentle touch—innocent things like dancing to a song, holding hands, or a sweet hug. After that, Steve could kiss you without explicit permission. He could always read your body language. He knew all the non-verbal cues that meant you wanted more. Finally, though, Steve realized what he was doing wrong.

He kept everything so private for so long, Steve was living out affection toward you in his mind without making any moves.

He’d see you sitting at a table and think how nice it would be to kiss the crown of your head and rest his hand on your shoulder. He’d walk in the woods with you and think about how your fingers would lace with his. He’d enter a room where you were mid-conversation with others and think to wrap his arms around you from behind.

But he didn’t do any of that, only imagined it.

Steve would experience all these little familiarities as if they happened, but it took him a very, very long time to understand you didn’t know he wanted to do them. He took equally as long to realize something very important: he’d been teaching you not to touch him.

Because he held back, you held back.

After all of that is figured out—and god knows, it’s A LOT of stuff to figure out,—you both are quietly affectionate.

Quietly because…

…public displays of affection are essentially a no-no. Captain America is a public figure while Steve Rogers is an unbelievably private man. He’s more reserved by sheer fact of Cap being so f**king visible.

Honestly, that's the long and short of it.

If he could be in public and no one would care, yes, Steve would throw his arm around you and kiss your cheek once every few minutes. He'd hold your hand right on top of the table at any restaurant, or he'd pull you to sit in his lap whenever possible.

The problem is that it feels like everyone cares, and even though Steve has no clue why there always seems to be an antagonistic attitude in the media about you, he's not going to encourage their shitty behavior. He would rather give them nothing, and so he keeps things very simple in public.

He can't win, however, since this is one of the biggest things that upsets you. It looks like he's cold, and you tell him it feels as if he doesn't love you when public events drag on too long.

Steve used to just push through the discomfort of being 'out,' but he's now aware enough to take breaks. He'll find a hallway or a quiet corner (or a bathroom, if desperate) where you two can check in, some place secluded where you can breathe with him or be sweet with each other. That's only for if it's the public crap that's upsetting you.

Sometimes, it's work that upsets you, and that requires listening to comfort you. Most of those times you neither want nor need advice; he simply has to listen. He can relate to most of it anyway because he works with various teams constantly, and there is always friction between groups of people.

Steve has/had a large slew of deaths in the years after being woken from the ice. Veterans aged and passed away constantly, and he touched the lives of so many during the '40s, Steve was/is invited to speak or attend many funerals. He makes a point of going as often as he can and has a running list of families in different areas that he could visit or write to when time allows. It's important to him and exhausting. The frequency of funerals (including those of agents who were young or not retired) very much upsets Steve. The way he handles it publicly is stoicism and gratitude. In private, you listen to the real stories.

Oftentimes Steve feels guilty for romanticizing or idealizing war, but he also knows that the truth of what soldiers go through isn't appropriate for eulogies. It is healing to him to explain to you how imperfect, how mundane, and, yes, how horrific what those men and women went through really was. He heals by admitting some of them were racists or told truly sick jokes to anyone who would listen. He heals by confessing some of them stole from their friends or off the bodies of the fallen. He heals when he can be honest, when he can say that none of it really feels like winning unless you turn humans just like you into enemies.

Operation Paperclip (where Nazi scientist were recruited in order to help America develop more weapons and technologies) upsets Steve, deeply, wildly, frustratingly, because he understands why it happened. Steve is upset at how often he's wrong about people. He believes in those morals and ideals of humanity, and he's disappointed by how often he finds the bullied becoming bullies.

None of that has ever been cut and dry, but the reality weighs on him. You listen. For the most part, that's all you can do. You also hold him. You say you're proud of him. You're proud of him for choosing to be good over and over and over again even when it seems useless, even when it is hard.

Steve is comforted when you bring him back to a very small part of the world and you focus on his 'small' life with you. He actually takes very well to light jokes about how he doesn't fold some clothes the way you like and so no one's perfect. He's grounded in the knowledge--when you remind him--that, to date, he has never managed to put away an entire load of dishes in the correct spot, and that it's weird that it's a different utensil or plate that he misplaces every time.

When you assure Steve that he is just one man, just one sorta-average man, he is greatly comforted. That's a big one for him.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81

@rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @fangirl-swagg @georgeweaslysgirl @austynparksandpizza @claireelizabeth85 @jamneuromain

#ro answers #ask game #fools rush in series #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fic

79 notes · View notes

aangelichaos · 6 months

Text

SLOW

Summary: After months of pining, Joel Miller finally makes a move on you at the winter dance.

Age Rating: T

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Allusions to smut, kissing, sexual tension, there's a creepy dude but Joel helps

A/N: Sorry this is ass, the writer's block is so bad rn. Anyways I fucking love Jackson Joel so much, there needs to be more fics of him. I love the idea of him finally experiencing a crush again and being able to really acknowledge those feelings, and he's so overwhelmed and thrown off by how much he craves you. Divider by @inklore

He's had his eyes on you all night.

He can't stop watching, mesmerized by the way you move. If he were younger and more confident he would be out on the dance floor with you. But he's intimidated by your beauty, so sweet and graceful as you dance. He can't measure up to you, his bones are creaky and he can't dance to save his own life. And even though you're not much younger than him yourself, he fears that his age is starting to catch up to him, that he wouldn't be able to keep up your seemingly boundless energy. So he sticks to the sidelines, content to watch you dance the night away.

He doesn't know when it started, exactly. All he knows is that at some point, he became utterly infatuated with you, and now he can't get enough. Your smile, your laughter, your touch- he's hooked on you. He feels like a teenager again, with the way butterflies form in his stomach when he sees you and his heart races when you flash that pretty smile his way. So when a strange man approaches you, extending his hand in invitation, it sets off a silent rage inside him.

‘It should be me’ Joel thinks as he watches him pull you into his arms, far too intimate for two strangers. And then he starts to wonder, doubt filling his mind. There's not a ring on your finger, and you never mentioned another man in your life, but he still can't help but think that maybe he's been deluding himself this entire time. You've probably been with that man all this time, and he's just been too caught up in his feelings for you to notice. The guy pulls you closer, and a burning hot wave of jealousy crashes over him, intense and nearly painful. That is, until your eyes meet his, and he sees the look in them.

Fear.

Fear is a familiar thing to him. He can recognize it from a mile away. The subtle furrow of your brows, the slight widening of your eyes as they plead with him, a silent cry for help. He's walking towards the two of you before he even knows what he's doing, instinct telling him he needs to get you away from that guy. He's subtle about it, tapping the guy's shoulder and mumbling out a "Mind if I steal her away for a minute?" He whisks you away before the man can object.

You end up back in the corner of the room with him, the two of you sipping on your drinks as you watch everybody else dance.

“Thank you,” you finally mutter after a few moments of silence.

“No problem,” he says in return, giving you a small nod. "If you don't mind me askin', what was that about?"

“He just wanted to get into my pants,” you spit, “I think he was drunk or something. He wouldn't let go of me, you know how those guys are.”

“Fuckin' idiot,” he grumbles. “Boys like him ain't got a damn clue how to treat a woman.” He can't imagine how someone could look at you, so pretty and lovely, and just seeing a hole to use for the night. You deserve better. You deserve a man who knows how to take care of a woman, make you feel loved and safe. He wishes it were him. He'd be good to you.

You nod in return. “Yeah,” is all you respond with before the two of you fall back into silence, and he wishes he could think of something to say. You're right here, as gorgeous as ever, and he's completely fucking this up. But what do you say to someone when all you can think about is how good they felt in your arms and how badly you want to kiss them?

“So,” you speak up again. “Do you want to dance?”

It's a simple question. Innocent, lighthearted. But it sends his heart racing. You want to dance with him. You. Beautiful, perfect you. But he can't, he knows he can't, because he'll only crave you more if he does. “Darlin', I- I don't dance. Got two left feet,” he jokes, trying to ignore the way he fucking aches to have you in his arms again.

“Come on, it'll be fun,” you urge him, a smile playing on your lips. “Please?”

It's almost scary how quickly his resolve crumbles. He wishes he were a stronger man, but he can't resist you, could never resist you. “Okay.”

He curses himself for agreeing when you grin and take his hand, pulling him to the dance floor. You're so pretty. So goddamn pretty, and he doesn't know how to deal with it. You grasp his hands and nearly drag him around the floor, but he doesn't mind at all. And to his surprise, he is able to keep up with you, after all (though he might have stepped on your foot once or twice at first).

“‘Two left feet' my ass,” you say after a few minutes. “You're doing just fine.”

“Tell that to your toes,” he quips, reveling in the way you giggle in response. He thinks it might just be the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

“Yeah, but that was only a couple times. You haven’t done that in at least five minutes,” you’re quick to point out. “You’re doing great, really,” you assure him with a soft smile.

Joel’s heart skips a beat at that. He wonders if you can tell he's smitten, if you can feel the way his heart is racing. "Thanks," he murmurs in reply.

The song ends, suddenly replaced with something much softer, slower. Oh, shit. He drops your hands, clearing his throat nervously. But you take his hand back in yours, stepping closer.

God.

"Is this alright?" you ask softly, not daring to make another move until he agrees.

"Yes," he responds instantly, tentatively reaching his free hand out to grasp your waist. It's indescribable, the feeling of finally getting to hold you like this. He never wants to let you go.

You drop his hand, instead opting to wrap your arms around his neck while his hand falls to your hip along with the other. You stay like this for a while, just swaying back and forth. Joel's heart is pounding, and he thinks that surely you can feel it, but if you can you don't say anything.

At some point the line between platonic and romantic blurs, and the respectable distance between you closes. He has you cradled against his chest, his arms wrapped fully around you as you lean into him.

“Hey, Joel?” you mumble, looking up to meet his eyes. Your eyes are beautiful in this light, shining and sparkling as they look up at him. It takes everything in his power not to pull your face to his and kiss you breathless then and there.

“Yeah?” he whispers out, his voice tight and strained.

“What’re we doing?” you ask, your bottom lip sticking out just slightly in a small pout.

His brows furrow in confusion. “We’re… dancing?” he whispers back tentatively.

“No, I mean… fuck,” you curse under your breath. You pause for a moment, leaving Joel to wait with bated breath for your next words. “What are we?”

The words shoot through him like a bolt of lightning, setting every nerve in his body aflame. “I… don’t know, sugar. What do you want us to be?” he asks. He knows exactly what you want, and he wants it too, but he needs to hear it from your pretty lips.

You sigh softly. “Not this. I don’t… shit, there’s something here, right? I’m not making it up, am I?” you ask in a desperate plea for him to tell you he feels it too.

Joel thinks that he must be dreaming, because there's no way in hell you're in his arms, damn near begging him to tell you how much he adores you. “Honey girl, you ain’t makin’ anything up. Been head over heels for a damn long time.”

You let out a shuddering sigh of relief. “You have?”

Joel nods, gently taking your chin between his index finger and his thumb to keep you looking at him. “Mm. Can’t stop thinkin’ about ya, feel like I'm losing my damn mind.”

Your hands fist in his coat as he gently rubs his thumb along your plush lower lip. You like that, he realizes. Good to know.

“Lemme kiss ya, darlin’. Been dyin’ for a taste of these pretty lips.” Joel thinks he sounds like a complete madman, everything he’s ever been taught about respect and manners flying out the window and quickly being replaced by a flirtatiousness he didn’t even know he possessed. But your entire body shudders in response, and he suddenly can’t find it in himself to care.

"Please," you whisper, and his lips are on yours as soon as the word leaves your mouth.

His hands come up to your face, gently grasping your cheeks and holding your lips to his. He tries to take it slow, he really does, but you feel so fucking good, and he’s been waiting so long. He all but devours your lips as you hold onto his shoulders to keep yourself steady. You don’t stop him even though he thinks you really should, letting him take what he wants, needs. It’s like you understand how he’s feeling, how bad he’s been needing this, and maybe you do. Maybe you’ve been craving it just as much.

He doesn’t pull away until his lungs are burning with the need to breathe, panting shakily as he rests his forehead against your own. “Fuck, sugar, ‘m sorry. Got carried away there.”

“Don’t apologize.” You tilt your head up to kiss his cheek and Joel sighs softly at the contact, his hold on you tightening slightly. “I haven’t had a kiss that good in years.”

Joel chuckles and presses another, less needy, kiss to your lips. “Same here, sweet girl. Didn’t realize how much I missed it.”

You smile and lean up to kiss his cheek. "How long have you been wanting to kiss me, Joel?" you ask, the sugary-sweet lilt of your voice nearly driving him mad with desire.

"Way too damn long," Joel sighs. "Gotta be a few months at least."

"Mm. Looks like we got a lot of lost time to make up for, huh?" you breathe, leaning in close until your lips are a mere inch from his.

"Fuck," Joel hisses. "We sure do, darlin'. Tell you what, my house ain't far... what do you say we head on over there, have a drink, see where the night takes us?" he suggests, a small, seductive smile gracing his lips.

You nod eagerly. "Yeah. I'd like that."

The night takes you exactly where he wants it to. You, in his bed, arms wrapped around him tight while he pleases you in every way he knows how.

Goddamn, he's missed this too.

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tlou x reader #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction

154 notes · View notes