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hannie-dul-set · 4 months

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STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [1].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst if you squint, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, secondhand stress HHAHAHAH. WORD COUNT. 2.9k.

TAGLIST. @seokgyuu @spjhyn @bat-shark-repellant @writingmeraki @lotties-readings @jenodreamer @gyuspeach @lexawoah13 @dvalitaes @agustdiv1ne @enhacatalog @soobs-things @tocupid @wonsays @kgneptun @sarang-ae @peaceout97 @outrologist @prettypei @luv4cheol @captivq @kueey @matcha-binz @loveherrschxr @haechology @bitehee @laylasbunbunny

NOTE. and so it begins!! grabbed seventeen’s “second life” and gave it to beomgyu’s band, by the way. future chapters will be a lot longer bcs this one is sort of just an introduction. please lmk what u think so far!!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 1 — the consequences of working with a choi.

One.

“I told you I won’t do any romance dramas!”

Choi Soobin isn’t usually one to throw tantrums. He’s gentleness itself, says the media. The loveliest, most humble and soft-spoken angel to have ever graced South Korea’s entertainment industry. Interviewees praise him for being so kind and warm. Award-winning actor Lee Minyuk decided to adopt him the day they first met while working on a drama just a year ago.

He’s so nice, so sweet, so lovely— a stark contrast to the roles he usually plays, but that doesn’t take away from the songs of praise that articles and Twitter posts usually string along with Choi Soobin’s name.

All of this is true of course. As long as you’re not contractually obligated to babysit his whiny, picky, six foot tall ass every single day.

“Soobin, why don’t you give it another—”

“This is ridiculous,” he huffs, crossed armed on the sofa with a tattered script sitting on the low coffee table before him. Manager Lee feels a headache kicking in. Why is this bastard acting up when the interns are in the office? Those two simply wanted to deliver the scripts for Soobin to pick from, but they are looking at his actor’s surprising behavior with wide eyes. Now, it’s going to be his job to make sure that they don’t run their mouths about the nation’s alleged first love actually being a spoiled brat.

“Soobin,” Manager Lee exhales for the nth time. This script is from Writer Kang. The Writer Kang! She wrote this script with you in mind as the lead. Can you at least maybe reconsider—”

“I’m not doing it.” Soobin won’t budge. He’s got a visibly troubled and offended look on his face and his manager wants to smack him upside in the head. How could he not understand that this is an opportunity of a lifetime? “Hyung, you know the reason why I even signed to this company in the first place. I’m not doing it. Absolutely not.”

He picks up the script like it’s a dirty rag— disgusted expression to match— only to reveal a page that suddenly prompts him to throw the entire thing across the room. The two interns flinch. Manager Lee feels his hair turning gray by the second.

“There’s a kissing sce— agh! Gosh! What will my soulmate think if she sees me kissing another woman?!”

“Soul...soulmate?” unfortunate intern number one voices out hesitantly.

“Is...Choi Soobin seeing someone right now?” asks number two, and Manager Lee wants to retire early. His actor is still ranting on and on about how there’s no way in hell he’s taking on this role. He doesn’t really wanna deal with that right now.

“No. He’s not seeing anybody. He’s never been in a relationship before.”

Manager Lee knows this because he’s been Soobin’s manager since the young star was still seventeen, when he was still as nice and well-behaved as the tabloids made him out to be. That same kid is now a grown adult and shuddering over a possible kissing scene in a screenplay. “Ahh. I can’t do this, I seriously can’t do this, hyung!” Fame does change people. Manager Lee wants seventeen year-old Soobin back.

“Then...then who is his soulmate…?”

It’s hard to imagine that an A-List star like Choi Soobin is suffering from unrequited love. “A woman from his past life,” answers Manager Lee. “Or so he says.” The interns look at him. Come—come again? their expressions seem to say. Manager Lee lets out an exasperated sigh. This one’s even harder to comprehend.

“Hyung,” Soobin finally calls out for him. Lee returns his attention to his artist, who’s now flipping through the other scripts on the table with an even more disgruntled expression. “Hyung, are these all the offers I have? They’re all romance! Don’t we have other options?!”

“The CEO wants you to expand your roles, Soobin,” Manager Lee flatly replies. “Your fans too. You can’t keep doing action-mystery-thrillers forever. It’s a waste of your visuals. They want to see you in lighter things too.” He walks over to pick up the first rejected script from the floor, dropping it in front of Soobin, who is currently a deflated balloon.

He’s changed. But sometimes it feels as though his artist hasn’t grown up ever since they first met.

“If you take Writer Kang’s drama, you’ll get even bigger, Soobin.”

“I’m not interested in fame,” Soobin mumbles, shoulders slacked and dejected. “I just want—”

“If you gain ever more fame, expand your reach, won’t that mean your soulmate can find you sooner as well?” Soobin takes the bait. He flinches upon hearing the word he’s been chasing after ever since, a glimpse of consideration flashing through his expression as he nips down his bottom lip. Manager Kim lands a hand on his shoulder. “Think about it, kid. You shouldn’t waste opportunities like this.”

Soobin lets out a breath. “I’ll...I’ll give it some thought.”

Dear god, finally. Manager Lee ushers out a sulky and troubled Soobin out into the hall with the script hugged against his chest and tells him to relax for the day. “Don’t overthink it. Just do what you want to do,” he says, after gaslighting him into positively considering the role. Still, Soobin needs this. He’s been stagnating since his last project, Study Group. He needs to switch up genres if he wants to improve.

“Wow,” intern number two exhales the moment Soobin leaves the premises. “You really are a veteran, sir. But does Choi Soobin’s soulmate really exist? Who is he looking for?”

Manager Lee shrugs and drops onto the sofa with a grunt. “Beats me. He doesn’t even know her name.”

Two.

“Yeonjun! Choi Yeonjun, look over here!”

“Choi Yeonjun, you look good today as well!”

“Please give a heart to the camera!”

“Fuck! Choi Yeonjun, you’re so fucking hot!”

That last one made Yeonjun’s mouth twitch into a smirk, and the screaming instantly became louder. Unintentional, but he relishes in the attention, anyway. He flips down his sunglasses to block the flashing lights from the cameras (causing another unintentional pandemonium), and his manager (Kim Noona, he likes to affectionately call when she’s about to yank out his hair roots for misbehaving) quickly ushers him into van before his rabid fans break through the bodyguards’ defenses and jump him.

“Good work today,” says Manager Kim as they start to drive away from the fansign venue. Yeonjun has his window rolled down and is blowing air kisses to the crowd. Ignorance is bliss, Manager Kim decides. “However, you don’t have time to run a catwalk on the way to the van tomorrow since you have another schedule immediately after the fansign. Try to strut for two minutes max tomorrow, please.”

“‘Kayyy,” Yeonjun hums, rolling the tinted windows back up and leaning back into the car seat with a satisfied groan. They’re on the way back to his apartment now. Time for him to start his routine. “Noona, do you have all the letters I got today?”

“Look to your left.”

And there it is indeed— a stack of notes and envelopes and perfume-drenched messages of love and adoring affection. He flits through each one, skimming over every note and every letter like he’s looking for something. “Sleep early tonight,” Manager Kim tells him as he knits his brows, nearing the end of the stack. “You have a shoot in the morning, in case you forgot.”

Yeonjun is back at the first letter he started with. Nothing, he lets out a sigh. Not one that he’s looking for.”

“Noona,” he calls out. “I’m going live right now.”

There’s a bump on the road.

“No, wait—”

[🔴 yawnzzn is live].

“Hehe. Yeonjunnie is here—!”

Manager Kim abruptly stops the car. Thank fucking god the road isn’t too crowded. She watches Yeonjun from the rearview mirror as he smiles at the outstretched camera and makes casual greetings and hello’s to the viewers, heart racing in fear. “Right now? I’m on the way back home. Can’t wait to get a nice shower once I get back.” Okay, she lets in a deep breath, starting the car once more. Yeonjun isn’t doing anything weird yet. Better to drop him off as soon as possible.

“Nooo, I haven’t had dinner yet, I’ll order once I get home. What do you guys recommend?”

He’s being normal. He’s acting fine. This is good.

“Ramen? That sounds good. Kimchi jjigae is also yummy.”

Maybe he just wanted to interact more with his fans, yes. He’s always been like that. Maybe he won’t say anything rash this time.

“Oh! The video with Mark Lee from NCT? Did you see us hugging? Hehe, Mark and I look good together?” They’re almost at his apartment building. They’re almost here. Once they arrive, Yeonjun will turn off the livestream and Manager Kim can finally fucking retire for the day. “That’s cute. But it’s too bad. I’m already interested in someone else.”

Screeeech!

The car stops. “Yeonjun.” But Yeonjun’s live stream is still ongoing. “Turn off the live.”

Yeonjun is smiling at his phone in painful ignorance. Manager Kim doesn’t miss the one second glance he spares at her. One second. One mere second before he starts inciting chaos even more. “Who? That’s a secretttt. I don’t want to tell you.”

Manager Kim’s phone starts buzzing. “Yeonjun, turn it off.” The buzzing won’t stop. Her personal phone starts going off as well

“Ah. Should I give you a hint?”

There’s an incoming call now.

“Choi Yeonjun, turn off the god damned—”

“Okay!” Yeonjun suddenly exclaims. He flashes a knowing smile to the camera, but his dearly stressed and overworked manager knows that it’s directed to her rather than the thousands of people witnessing the artist she’s in charge of stirring his third rumor of the week. Her phone won’t stop buzzing, it can be used as a fucking vibrator at this point. Choi Yeonjun is lucky he rakes in most of the agency’s profits— otherwise his contract would be terminated by now. “I have to go. My manager looks like she’s about to fire me, hehe. See you all tomorrow! Mwah!”

Just like that, the live stream ends, but Manager Kim’s phone is still incessantly ringing and beeping and giving the signal that Choi Yeonjun will once again go trending on Twitter— not in the way the company wants. Again. “Kim Noona?” Yeonjun calls out. “The light is green. The cars behind are honking at us.”

Manager Kim’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. “Yeonjun.” And they start moving again. “What are you gonna do once you get home?”

“Post a damage control photo. Got it.”

He knows. He knows yet he keeps pulling the same shit every week.

“Good...good— just,” his manager lets out a sigh, and they arrive at the front of his building. “No matter what I tell you, you won’t stop pulling these stunts, aren’t you?”

“Nope.” Yeonjun flashes her a grin, unbuckling his seatbelt, ready to slide the door open. “Thanks, noona! See you tomorrow!”

With that, Yeonjun leaves with a bounce in his step right after the mess he just made.

The problem is, Manager Kim can’t tell him to stop either after knowing exactly why he’s doing all of these scandal-bait, potentially career damaging things. It’s not something she can believe in, and it’s definitely not within the realm of reality. But after seeing the look on her artist’s eyes when he said— how many more headlines must he make until you can finally find your way back to him?

Well. All Manager Kim can do is work PR to their deaths for damage control.

Three.

“Why don’t we kick it off by listening to your latest single?”

Studio lights burn the set. Five seats are settled in place, four against one for an interview with one of the hottest K-Rock groups of the generation. Yeong-Il released a new single just earlier in the week, and it’s topped the charts ever since release.

If I am given a second life I may live and breathe differently compared to now

Lee Heeseung looks happy to be here. So do Yang Jeongin and Lim Jimin. Choi Beomgyu, on the other hand, looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but here right now, complete with the faraway look on his face as he’s clearly not paying attention to the comments the host is making, instead drowning in melody and lyrics hummed by the speakers.

Among the streets we’ll walk past each other without knowing

“It’s quite different from our usual music, no?” Heeseung laughs.

I hope we remember each other

“Right!” Jeongin chimes in. “But I think we should hear from the man who produced and wrote this.”

Even in our next life Even at that time, I’ll go to you

“Choi Beomgyu!”

Even in our next life Even at that time, I’ll go to you

“Beomgyu, are you awake?”

Even if a second life That’s different from now comes to me The one thing I can say is That I’m going to be by your side

“Beomgyu!”

“Ah.” Beomgyu finally wakes up. He catches the concerned and nervous glances of his friends-slash-bandmates. Beomgyu takes the microphone from Jimin, tapping it once, before saying, “What do I do? It’s a little embarrassing to talk about this by myself.” Jeongin fails to hold back a snort at his lack of sincerity. Jimin sends him a nudge with his elbow.

“Hey, this isn’t the first time you’ve written a song. Quit acting coy,” Heeseung manages to salvage the conversation, invisible sweat dripping down the side of his face. Beomgyu finally decides to stop stalling and answers the question.

“Well, anyhow, I think you can tell from the lyrics. Second Life is about a love that extends beyond lifetimes— promising that even after we’ve lived, died, and reborn as different people, there is still no one I’d love but you.” There’s some coughs from his bandmates. Beomgyu presses his lips into a smile. “That’s it.” And passes the microphone back to whoever reaches out for it first.

This kind of behavior from Yeong-il’s guitarist and vocalist isn’t new.

The problem is, even though his team and fans are used to it, not everyone is, so the show’s host is taken aback by Beomgyu’s complete lack of care, unaffected and impenetrable. He stifles out a cough, flits through his cue cards. “O—oh, how romantic!” he exclaims. “I’ve noticed that a lot of your other songs that Choi Beomgyu-ssi has written seem to have a similar theme. Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah, it’s not really a secret, and it’s honestly pretty obvious,” Beomgyu answers, earning another nudge from Jimin.

“He doesn’t seem like it, but Beomgyu is the biggest romanticist out of all of us,” Heeseung saves the day once more. Choi Beomgyu has been once dubbed as the biggest hurdle in every interviewer’s career. Nobody knows if he’s doing it on purpose, or if he really is just like that.

“We—well, can we ask what your inspiration is for writing this kind of music?”

It’s not a new question. It’s a question asked interview after interview to Choi Beomgyu whenever they release one of his songs riddled with his signatures of reincarnation, second lives, and first loves. But he’s always avoided answering them, sometimes going as far as outright telling the host that he doesn’t want to answer.

Though his bandmates are indeed both dreading and looking forward to the day Beomgyu would finally make a public answer to that million dollar question—

“Myself.”

—they certainly did not expect him to answer with the truth.

“What?”

“The tracks were inspired by myself,” he says, face flat, free from any sign of humor or jest. “I’m still waiting for my first love from my first life. There must be a reason why I still remember her and the life we shared. Doesn’t that mean we’re both destined to meet again?”

Silence washes over. Everyone on set is looking at Beomgyu, waiting for him to laugh or smile or crack a joke or some shit just to give an indication that he wasn’t at all serious with that statement. Their managers are frozen. They’re all looking at Heeseung to finally and neatly wrap things up before the mood gets worse.

Heeseung gets the signal. He quickly snatches the microphone from his friend and starts making bullshit up and praying to god that this part gets edited out. “Aha—ahaha, Beomgyu really likes to remain in character! That’s how much he takes his music seriously! Anyway—”

The rest of the interview turns up normally. No unexpected backstory reveals or trauma-dumps. No mentions of possible supernatural phenomena whatsoever and that’s mostly because Beomgyu decided to keep quiet for the rest of it.

He’s seriously a ticking time bomb, all but him share the same thought upon exiting the studio, until Heeseung finally confronts him about it when they reach the van.

“Dude, what the hell was that?”

“I know, I know. You don’t have to nag me,” Beomgyu groans. “We can ask them not to air that part, anyway. I’m just getting impatient.”

Impatience.

That’s a mutual feeling shared by all three of them.

Twenty years. That’s how long they’ve been waiting. Centuries, if you count the period in between their previous lives and now. But when the person they’ve been waiting for finally shows up— patience will be a virtue that they’ll need to learn to strengthen. Patience. They’ll need to be a hell of a lot more patient if they want to take back what they lost.

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#tomorrow x together x reader #choi yeonjun x reader #choi soobin x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #txt scenarios #txt x you #txt x reader #tomorrow x together scenarios #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #beomgyu x reader #choi soobin x you #choi yeonjun x you #choi beomgyu x you

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mikachacha · 6 months

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𝚆𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚎 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝙹𝚁! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛)

Synopsis: Bada likes you, the only problem is you're straight or so you thought.

Warnings: Language, some identity crisis, idiots in love

(A/N: Made this while half asleep so not my best work 💀💀)

🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸

"When will she ever notice that I like her??? This is getting ridiculous now.." Bada groaned as she looked at you from across the room. Bada has been head over heels for you since the day you came to JustJerk to teach.

"She'll notice if you confess." Lusher says and Bada could only sigh. She's been trying her best. She doesn't know if she's the one who's lacking or you're just too innocent to comprehend that Bada is so damn gay for you. She spent nights after nights, facing her mirror and trying to come up with ways to tell you how much she's so in love with you. But it's now four months and you still have no idea about her feelings. Bada didn't give up though. Everyday she makes an effort to talk to you, even giving you coffee every morning since she knows it's your favorite way to start the day. She's just hoping, praying even that one day you'll realize everything she's doing, that you'll realize her feelings.

Unbeknownst to her, you knew. Even before the whole coffee thing. But you're scared. You knew your whole life that you're straight but then Bada came along that made you question everything. You're confused and very much conflicted with this whole situation that you didn't even realized that it has been four whole months.

"Audrey, my love.. I don't know what to do anymoreeee. I mean, I wanna be friends with her but I also want to be more than friends but I don't know how this works??? I've never been with a woman before.. I am stressing out!" you ranted to Audrey, one of your closest friends when she visited you in Korea. Well her group is competing against Bada's team for this show called Street Woman Fighter.

"I mean, if you really like her that much then go for it. What's the worst that could happen? You let fear rule over you to the point you're missing out on what could be the best relationship you'll ever experience. I'm not saying that you should rush things but damn girl! 4 months of her showing you her intentions and you still didn't budge? Not even a date???" you pondered on your friend's words. She's right though. You wasted months because you were scared of exploring yourself.

"Damn since when did you become a love expert?" you joked and she only rolled her eyes playfully at you.

"Well my bestie is a whiny little baby that whines about her love life. I have to keep up and adapt." She jokes back that made you laugh. A bit harsh but it's true. You always whine about your romantic life to her.

The next few weeks have been pure agony. You wanted to talk with Bada about the whole situation but she's busy with the competition or when she's not, she's teaching. Now you're the one who's chasing her around and you didn't like it at all.

"Hey.. Can we talk real quick?" you asked as she's getting ready for a class. Seeing that she still has 30 minutes to spare, she nodded at your request to talk.

"Hi.. So what's up? What did you wanna talk about?" Bada asks and you awkwardly picked on the hem of your jacket. You thought you came in prepared but now you're face to face with Bada, it seems like your whole mind went blank.

"I.. Uhm.. I don't know how to say this.." you tried to speak but there's that fear again. You're scared about how she would react. Your thoughts are racing and you just wanna get out there, fast.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" Bada asked, seeing that you're very nervous about something. She wanted to hold you to comfort you but she's not sure if you'd be comfortable with that at all.

"Y-yeah I'm good.. I like you, Bada.. Okay shit.. I don't know but I seriously do. I thought I was straight and all but then you came along and started showing interest then I got confused. I got scared of my own feelings.." you blurted out and Bada stood there, shocked and still processing what the hell just happened. She looked at you and her lack of response made your heart hammer inside your chest, more thoughts raced through your head and you feel like you're about to faint.

Bada noticed the look on your face and immediately wrapped her arms around you, rubbing your back gently as soft sobs left your mouth. Although it was pretty heartbreaking hearing your sobs, she also found it rather cute that you're crying after you just confessed that you like her. Bada tried her best to calm you down and when you were a bit okay, she lets you go for a bit to wipe your tears. She could just stay in that moment, marvelling about your cuteness.

"I like you too, Y/N. I like you a lot ever since you came to teach here. Although we like each other, we're gonna take this slow, yeah? I don't want you to feel that you have to rush into anything. I want to take you out on dates, get to know you more and maybe when that time comes, you can decide if you want to take things to a whole new level with me." Bada says and you nodded your head. You're glad that you weren't late into confessing. Bada still likes you and you're thankful that she wants to take things slow so you can get used to this whole set up.

"Thank you, Bada.. Really. I don't know how things work in this kind of relationship and I don't want to do some stupid shit that will hurt us, or hurt you.." you admitted and Bada smiled, placing a kiss on your cheek that got you blushing like a tomato. You're normally stoic when it comes to lovers or people you like kissing you on the cheek but with Bada, it was a whole different story. She gets you blushing like a tomato even with such a simple gesture.

"Anything for you, beautiful. Wanna wait up for me so we can grab dinner together?" she asks and you nodded, grinning. You're excited to see how your love story unfolds with Bada.

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #swf2 #swf2 x reader #bada x reader

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kdramacrybaby · 3 months

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My Demon (2023)

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Comedy

Synopsis: Do Do-hee was adopted into a rich family by the matriarch, Joo Cheon-sook. The rest of the family, however, despises Do-hee, as she stands to inherit a lot more than they would like. On a night where she nearly loses her life, Do-hee meets the demon Jeong Gu-won. He travels around and makes deals with people who are desperate - all they need to give in return is their soul. But instead of getting to make a deal, Gu-won's powers are transferred to Do-hee, and the two now have to stick together to figure out how to reverse it. They both have something the other want.

Episode info: 16 episodes / Runtime around 70 minutes

Lead cast: Kim Yoo-jung (Do Do-hee), Song Kang (Jeong Gu-won), Lee Sang-yi (Joo Seok-hoon), Kim Hae-sook (Joo Cheon-sook), Kim Tae-hoon (Noh Suk-min)

Link to watch: You can watch on Netflix or Dramacool

Drama rec masterlist | Drama rant thread (beware of spoilers)

I had so much fun watching this drama. It's one of those dramas where Tumblr just forms this little community around a drama as it airs, and I was lucky enough to be able to be a part of it almost from the very beginning.

This drama had so many twists and turns and cliffhangers, and I had such a good time freaking out over everything with people on here.

The drama was actually genuinely funny, and though I may not have laughed out loud, I definitely found myself doing the huff laugh a lot. They knew what they were doing, and the jokes just landed every single time.

It does get dark at times too though, and I do have to make a trigger warning for blood, murder, mental illness, self-harm, suicides and just a very uncomfortable and creepy villain.

Jeong Gu-won is not the brooding, gloomy type of male lead you might think when reading what the drama is about. Instead, he's a drama queen with a flair for fashion. He's childish and whiny, but also openly caring and loving - very golden retriever coded, actually. It sounds weird, but it really works so well for this drama.

And oh my god, I love Do Do-hee so much. She's a boss ass bitch when she needs to be, but is actually just as much a whiny drama queen as Gu-won. She knows what she wants and will do whatever it takes to get it, but also knows when it's time to stop and take a step back.

And the two of them are such a good match! Petty and childish, all with their own huge baggage of trauma that they help each other unpack. And they usually communicate their feelings well with each other. The drama doesn't rely on miscommunication as a way to create drama - if something happens, they resolve it almost immediately, and I love that.

The overall murder-mystery and who-did-what managed to throw things at me that I sometimes didn't see coming, which was nice.

If I do have to say something more negative, the drama does at times feel a little superficial in a way I can't quite explain. I did see some people complain about the same - that it felt plastic sometimes. And they do make some decisions - especially towards the last half of the drama - that I might not really be 100% into. The first half of the drama is definitely the best part.

But overall, I still had such a good time watching, and it's definitely one I'll rewatch again someday.

#my demon #kdrama #kdrama review #kdrama rec

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welcometojackass2022 · 1 year

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Perfect Shot (Sub!Bam Margera x GN!Reader) [Smut]

This was an anonymous request made a while back, and I thought it was a really cool idea! This is my first Bam fic in a while, sorry about that.

Description: It’s the middle of filming for Jackass: The Movie, and Bam’s in a bad mood. As the main camera operator (and one of Bam’s good friends), you feel that it’s your responsibility to help Bam relax, so you offer him a blowjob. Long story short, this ends with you not only blowing him, but also filming the entire thing while he whines and begs and his legs get shaky.

Warnings: Cursing, Smut, Blowjob, Sub Bam and Dom Reader, Bam being whiny and pathetic and begging while you blow him, You filming yourself sucking Bam off, Bam’s a dick at first and you suck him off to calm him down

@asskickedbygirl tagging you as always.

If there was one thing that you’d learned in your time as a camera operator for Jackass, it was that there was always at least one member of the cast who was in a bad mood on set at any given time. Preston would be pissed off because the guys did something fucked up to him during a stunt, or Ehren would be upset cuz he got picked on by the guys like always, or Johnny would be slightly less friendly than usual because he hadn’t had any coffee yet, or Jeff would be grumpy because one of the stunt ideas hadn’t worked out like it was supposed to. No matter what day it was or where the crew was filming, there was always someone who wasn’t happy about something, and on this particular day, that someone was Bam Margera.

You were setting up your camera in one of the rooms of the main production building to get ready for a scene you’d be filming later of Jeff and Johnny talking about a stunt that had ended up failing; right as you leaned down to look through the lens of the camera to adjust it, you heard the door to the room open, and you glanced back to see Bam walking in with a grumpy look on his face as he slammed the door shut behind him. “Hey, Margera.” He didn’t respond, wordlessly plopping down in one of the chairs you’d set up in front of your camera for Johnny and Jeff to sit in later on, his arms crossed as he slumped down and stared at the floor. You adjusted the lens of your camera, using Bam’s irritated figure as the center of the shot to make sure you had the right angle for later. “What’s the matter? Did Johnny and the others throw you into a snake pit again?” Bam shot you a look, and you laughed. “Sorry, I’m not trying to make fun of you. Seriously, Bam, what’s up with you?” He sighed, slumping even farther down in the chair and leaning his head back in frustration. “Knoxville and Tremaine are fucking dickheads, that’s what’s up with me.”

You raised your eyebrows, trying to hide the smirk that was threatening to play at your lips. “Do tell.” You looked through the lens once more to check the angle and then walked over to sit in the chair next to Bam, tilting your head to the side as you waited for him to inevitably start ranting about whatever Johnny and Jeff had supposedly done wrong. “I had this awesome fucking idea for a stunt and neither of them wanna do it. They said it doesn’t actually count as a stunt and can’t be shown in theaters or on television.” Your eyes widened. “Damn, really? I can’t remember the last time I saw either of them reject a stunt, what was your idea?” Bam glared at the floor. “I wanted to fuck Jenn on a skateboard going down a big-ass ramp.” You stared at him in silence, trying to discern if he was being serious or not; the look on his face made you realize he was being totally genuine, and you burst out laughing, much to his chagrin. “Don’t fucking laugh, it’s a good idea.” You pressed your mouth to your hand, trying to stifle your laughter as you brushed a stray tear from your eye. “Don’t laugh? Bam, I’m sorry, but that is the single funniest thing anyone has ever said to me in my life. First of all, I don’t even know if it’s possible to fuck on a skateboard, let alone one that’s going down a ramp. And second of all, I thought you and Jenn broke up last week.”

Bam shrugged, sitting up a little bit in his seat. “We did. But we’ve broken up like ten times this month anyway, so I wouldn’t be shocked if we got together again soon. And that’s the point! How will we know if it’s possible to fuck someone on a skateboard if we don’t try it? It’s like being a scientist, you have to do experiments and shit.” You smirked. “Yeah, Bam, sounds very scientific to me.” He rolled his eyes at your sarcasm. “You’re supposed to be on my side, asshole, stop being a smart-ass.” You smiled apologetically, patting him on the shoulder. “Aw, I’m sorry, Bam, I’m really not trying to make fun of you here. It sounds like a really cool stunt idea. But I can see why Johnny and Jeff would say no. It would be kind of hard to show you and Jenn fucking on a skateboard and going down a ramp in a way that could actually be shown on TV.” Bam frowned. “Censor bars exist for a reason.” You laughed softly; it was still pretty funny, but he was clearly very upset, to the point where you had the feeling that it wasn’t just the rejection of his stunt idea that was bothering him. “Is that all that you’re upset about or is there something else?” You stopped smiling to show that you were genuinely asking, and Bam sighed, stressfully rubbing his hand over his forehead.

“No, I guess it’s not the only thing. None of my fucking skate tricks landed this morning, some chick at a bar called me pudgy yesterday, and this whole thing with Jenn is stressing me out.” You sucked your teeth sympathetically. “That’s a lot of things.” Bam nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose and leaning his head back again. “Yeah.” The two of you sat in silence for a moment, his eyes closed like he was trying to calm himself down, and you took the opportunity to look him over. He was stressfully tapping one of his feet on the floor, his jaw was tense, and he still had that grumpy look on his face. No wonder he was being so pissy; he was clearly overwhelmed with stress. If it were any of the other guys, you wouldn’t have cared that much; they were great and all, but you weren’t necessarily close with them, and seeing them be in bad moods was pretty common (aside from Pontius, who was almost always happy). Bam, on the other hand, had been close friends with you since before the first CKY video was released, and although he could be a total brat at times, he was usually still in a pretty good mood, so seeing him be so stressed out was genuinely concerning to you. You tried to think of a way to help him calm down; let him rant? No, he’d kinda already done that. Giving him a hug? No, Bam would throw a punch if you tried. Sucking his dick to help him relax? Well, it wasn’t a horrible idea.

“You want a blowjob?” Bam’s eyes snapped open, his hand moving away from his face as he stared at you. “Huh?” He was clearly expecting you to backtrack on your question, but you just doubled down and asked again. “Do you want me to give you a blowjob? Like, to calm you down. You just seem really stressed out and I figured maybe a blowjob could help you cool off a bit so you don’t end up choking out Knoxville or Tremaine.” Bam stared at you again, trying to decide if you were being serious or not, and once he realized that you were, he sat up straight in his chair, glancing over at the door that was slightly ajar. “Wait, for real? Are you actually offering or are you gonna laugh at me if I say yes?” You laughed, standing up to close the door to the room. “I mean, if I’m joking then it’s not a very funny joke. Asking if you want anal would be funnier. So no, Bam, I’m not going to laugh if you say yes. I am, however, going to lock this door. So is that a yes?” Bam thought it over for a moment, looking significantly less annoyed than he had just a few moments prior, and then he nodded. “Yeah, sure. Probably won’t fix anything, but it’s worth a shot.” You nodded back, locking the door and walking back over to kneel at his feet in front of the chair, resting one hand on his knee as you moved the other to his fly to unzip it. “Wait.” Bam grabbed your hand to stop you. You glanced up at him; he suddenly looked nervous, and you pulled your hand away.

“What’s wrong? You don’t want one? It’s fine if you don’t but you should probably tell me now.” Bam shook his head, still looking slightly nervous. “No, I do want one, I just…never mind. Just do it, forget I said anything.” You stared up at him with concern. “Are you sure? I’m not gonna do this if you don’t want me to.” He nodded, his face going red as your fingers brushed over the zipper of his pants again, and you proceeded to pull the zipper down, pulling the fly apart so you could reached your hand into his exposed boxers to pull his cock out. It was already half-hard, the tip slightly red as you teasingly ran your thumb over his slit; he let out a soft gasp under his breath, gripping at the armrests of his chair as he watched you take his cock into your hand. It wasn’t very big, but you already knew that anyway; Bam’s dick size was a pretty big source of jokes within the friend group. If anything, it was at least nice to look at. You didn’t wanna waste any time, so you leaned down and licked a stripe up the shaft, reveling in the slightly salty taste. Bam’s hips jerked up slightly, but he kept his lips shut to hide the noises he was making as you wrapped your lips around the tip. You suckled on the head, lapping up his precum from the slit, and he gripped the armrests of the chair so hard his knuckles turned white, biting down on his bottom lip like he was trying to stop himself from being too loud. You glanced up at him in amusement as you suckled even harder.

You pulled Bam’s hands away from the armrests (his grip was so tight you had to practically peel his fingers off of them) and guided them to the top of your head, letting him tangle his fingers in your hair to give him something else to focus his grip on. He immediately tugged on your hair, his grip tightening when you slid your mouth all the way down his shaft. You sucked on his shaft with as much force as you could, eliciting a loud whine from Bam’s lips, and he immediately pulled one of his hands away from your hair to cover his mouth with a look of red-faced embarrassment. You raised your eyebrows, pulling your mouth off of his cock to grin at him. “Everything okay, Bam? I’ve never heard that sound come out of your mouth before.” He glared at you, pulling the hand away from his mouth to push down on the back of your head in an attempt to get your lips back around his cock. “Shut up.” You smirked, staring up at him to gauge his reaction as you ran your tongue over the underside of his cock at an agonizingly slow pace that made his whole body shiver, his grip on your hair getting tight again as another uncharacteristically whiny moan fell from his lips. You dragged your tongue over it again, and his legs started to shake, his hands yanking at your hair desperately to try and pull your mouth back down on his shaft. You pulled away again, raising an eyebrow at him. “Damn, Margera, I never would have guessed you were so sensitive.”

Bam started to complain again, but you shushed him, covering his mouth with one hand as you used the other to rub the leaking red tip of his cock with the pad of your thumb. “Don’t start with me, Bam, I’m not making fun of you. I like it when guys get all sensitive and whiny when I’m blowing them, it’s sexy. I’d love to have a video of you being all pathetic and desperate and whiny for me, seeing all the cute little facial expressions you make when I’m sucking you off would be so hot. Actually…” You glanced back at the camera that was still set up, an idea coming to your mind as you released Bam’s cock from your grip and stood up. Bam stared up at you in confusion. “What are you doing?” You laughed, walking over to your camera and adjusting it to center on Bam again. “Can I film this?” He blinked in confusion. “You wanna film yourself sucking my dick?” You nodded with a grin. “Yes. It’s kinda hard to see all the faces and sounds you’re making when I’m trying to focus on sucking you off, but if I film it, I won’t miss anything.” Bam absentmindedly took his hard, leaking cock into his hand, stroking it at a steady pace as he thought it over. “Yeah, alright. Just don’t show it to anyone. Now can you come back over here and finish the job, please? I need to cum so fucking bad that it hurts.” You smiled, pressing the camera’s record button and making your way back over to him. “Wow, look at you begging me. I like that, you should keep doing it.”

You laughed at the unamused look on Bam’s face and took his leaking cock into your hand again, wrapping your fingers around the base and taking the entire shaft into your mouth as you swirled your tongue over the drooling slit and slick red tip, slurping up his precum as you coated his shaft in saliva. Bam let out a choked noise, his hips jerking wildly as he fisted his hands into your hair again, and you pulled your mouth back off of his cock with a slick pop, jerking his shaft in your hand as you glanced up at him to admire the flustered look on his face. A loud whine left his mouth, his eyes half-lidded as he bucked his hips up to try and push his tip back into your mouth. “I liked seeing your legs get all shaky earlier, Bam. Here, get up from that chair and stand so I can feel your legs shake while I’m sucking you off.” Bam looked slightly shocked at the request, but he did as he was told, standing up and pushing his chair back so he was still within the frame of the camera as you took his cock back into your mouth. Now that he was standing, he had to lean over you with his hands on the back of your head for support, his legs already starting to shake as you suckled intensively on the tip of his cock. You felt his cock twitch inside your mouth, a needy whine leaving his lips as the salty taste of his precum became more noticeable inside your mouth. “Fuck, I’m so close, don’t stop.” His voice cracked pathetically as the tip of your tongue ran over his dripping slit.

You let him push your head all the way down so the tip of his cock was pressed against the back of your throat, sucking in your cheeks to make your mouth feel as tight around his shaft as it possibly could, his balls slapping against your chin as he hurriedly thrust his hips foreword in a desperate attempt to bring his orgasm on faster. A loud, whiny, pathetic moan fell from his lips, throwing his head back as he finally shot his load down your throat. You sucked the cum straight from his slit with an intensity that made Bam’s knees buckle, and he had to grab at your hair again to keep his balance. He bucked his hips forward as he rode out his orgasm, the energy of his thrusts gradually decreasing as he finished, and by the time he finally pulled his cock out of your mouth, he looked exhausted—but relaxed, nonetheless. His previously pissed off look had been replaced with one of slight satisfaction, a cute little smile on his face as he pushed his cock back into his jeans, zipped up his pants, helped you up from the floor and sat back down in his chair. You leaned down to push his bangs back from his slightly sweaty forehead, grinning at the pleased look on his face. “Feeling better?” Bam nodded. “Much better. Still kind of mad at Tremaine and Knoxville, but I don’t wanna choke them out anymore.” You laughed. “Good. Glad I could help. Anytime you need some stress relief, you know where to find me.” You walked over to the camera to stop the recording, clicking on the video to view it, and then you frowned. “Ah fuck, the shot was unfocused for the entire video….how about a quick reshoot?” Bam grinned excitedly.

#bam margera #bam margera x reader #bam margera imagine #bam margera smut #jackass #jackass x reader #jackass smut #jackass imagine #jackass fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #viva la bam #cky #cky crew #johnny knoxville

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maiz-of-light · 11 months

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Rant about ableism and censorship beneath the cut, also slight TotK spoilers, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Seriously, if you look beneath the cut and proceed to get offended, you did that to yourself. This is my blog and I will share my thoughts if and how I want.

Hi! In case it isn’t already obvious, I’m annoyed, and I’m about to go into why. Recently, with the release of the Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom, a post has been circulating accusing the game of being “riddled with ableism” for its depiction of “body horror” and “medical trauma” - that is, at the very beginning, Link is attacked in such a manner that his arm becomes infected and he loses consciousness. When he wakes, he has a sci-fi, kind of steampunk-y, fantasy arm in its place that was grafted to him while in his coma because, as is explained, the infection was spreading and his life was at risk. Or, in summary, a dead arm was grafted to him without his consent.

When you put it that way, it sounds pretty dark - and fuck, I’m not arguing that, at all. What salts my onions, lads, is that the game is being described as “ableist” for not containing specific trigger warnings.

Guys. What the fuck.

For starters, have you not seen the trailers? The demonic mummy with the glowing red eyes? The animation of Link’s sword arm wreathed in what we now call “gloom,” followed by footage of him examining that same arm and it is clearly not the same? Goddesses help me these were the earliest fucking trailers, too. If you’re not smart enough to put two and two together then chances are you were never smart enough to enjoy a game created to challenge your problem solving and puzzle solving skills in the first place.

If, on the other hand, you hadn’t watched the trailers beforehand, and got triggered by some unmentioned content afterwards, that’s your problem. You are responsible for your own triggers - for knowing what they are and for scanning content prior to engaging. You don’t click on a fic with mention of alcoholism, skip over the CW in the notes, then harass the author when you stumble upon the line/scene/paragraph containing said alcoholism-centric content. Creators are not obligated to tiptoe around you. In other words, if you have bad triggers, consider not playing a brand new video game before you have any idea what it’s about.

Before you call me “ableist” or “insensitive,” let me tell you a story. I won’t mention any details, as trauma dumping is not something I do, but I will state that I have an official, professional diagnosis of PTSD. I have triggers, specific ones, that send me spiraling into severe panic attacks if I don’t catch them in time and deal accordingly. And do you know who’s responsible for that? Me. I don’t get to police content creators, what they share and how they share it. I am responsible for curating my own media experience, and if someone isn’t comfortable accommodating my specific triggers, preferences, etc., I can choose not to engage. Nothing, nothing bothers me more than when people appropriate my disability, either to get their way somehow or to score brownie points and make themselves look “considerate.”

As for Link’s little fantasy medical procedure - yeah, he lost a limb. It happens. It sucks, and for some it can definitely be triggering - but like I said, all the signs are there. Complaining that all the trailers, leaked footage, advertisement, etc. somehow wasn’t enough is whiny and annoying, and entitled, and as I’ve mentioned feels like it’s mostly coming from non-disabled individuals shooting for a “woker” image. Get therapy and let the rest of us enjoy this awesome new game and affiliated content without having to hear a bunch of pointless, wannabe-woke carping.

#totk spoilers #ableism #anti censorship

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ciaramcgonagle · 2 years

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Gilmore Girls rant

Okay so I've watched gilmore girls a million times and this is some things I just notice or get frustrated about! I love the show and this is just a rant not hate. !SPOILER WARNING! I will be mentioning things from a year in the life and all the 7 seasons of gg.

First of all Rory and Lorelai, they have a very unique bond which I think can work in both ways. Lorelai was defenitely lucky with having Rory as her kid, Lorelai treated Rory as her best friend and that would not work with any other kid. Rory's character development was very dissapointing in my opinion. She made some weird decisions when she was at Yale with the first weird decision being her going to Yale. She also slept with Dean whilst she knew he was married and that really made me look down on her. Rory really got her relationship issues from Lorelai, because Lorelai kept running to Christopher when she needed something or she was sad. I think Rory copied this but with Dean. I also feel like social media bashes Rory a bit too much because I get that Rory was pretty problematic in the later seasons, but it was a clear display of humans, like the show just got a bit more real by Rory making mistakes.

Luke. Luke is honestly the best, he's the whiny guy but with a soft heart. He is the father figure in Rory's life, he loves Lorelai so so so much and he kept that horoscocpe for 8 years. In my opinion he is the perfect guy. He's always there for Rory and he was so nice to Lorelai. The April storyline was very unnecesairy. She wasn't needed there, Lorelai and Luke were cute and she basically ruined it. Luke and Lorelai were both in the wrong in that time tho. Luke should've told Lorelai sooner and let Lorelai near April, but Lorelai should've given him some space because Luke clearly didn't know how to handle the fact of having a daughter.

Emily and Richard were acctualy not bad, they were always there when Lorelai rang the doorbell and loved Rory so much. Lorelai and Emily's issues were ofcourse major but they definitely improved through out the seasons. Richard was so supportive of Rory and he wasn't toxic. Emily was mean to Lorelai but then again when it was needed she'd stick up for Lorelai. The grandparents always were open to pay for something Rory needed.

That's it for now tbh, this is my first post I made so I don't know what to expect. Tell me if y'all want my opinion on other characters?

Idk how to end this lmao-

Bye - Ciara

#gilmore girls #rory gilmore #lorelai gilmore #luke danes

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residentraccoon · 1 year

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Thoughts on this absolutely exquisite night of national finals below (warning I might sound like a whiny spoilt little girl but who cares)

You can call me pretentious, or that I sound like a 70 y/o that does not understand why all these mainstream pop songs are so popular at the moment and does not get the hype with other trendy stuff such as tiktok (no, I don't have it, and probably won't plan on getting it any time soon), but you really have no idea how gut wrenching this night had been lmao

I was already used to the fact that my favorites almost never win national finals, but at least there were one or two per night that made it. This night? None. Even if I didn't pay that much attention to it.

Let's take them by order, shall we?

Estonia had my favorite rock song in a while, Venom, which I dismissed at first for some reason. While I knew from the start when I listened to the lineup of Eesti Laul that Alika will win, it was still kinda dissapointing. It's probably my favorite of the night but I'm still not quite that attached to it. It builds up nicely, then that's it. And it feels like she sings with no passion. Still, the vocals are great, she has good control on her voice. The instrumental is very pretty. Maybe yeah, I can see myself ranking this high in my top. Moving on

Denmark, sIGH oh my god. There are only a few songs in this mumbly and breathy style of singing that I tolerate, and this is not one of them. His voice sounds pretty whiny to the point that I can't listen to it whole. Nicklas had such an entertaining dad rock and the two girls' song was so calming, the message added a bittersweet tone to the song. This? I can only listen to it for one minute. Or maybe this kind of indie semi-singing style is not for me. Idk I'm trying to be positive but I can't.

Romania, I'll try my best to not be too critical. Perinita had everything. Folk sound, stage show, they even changed the folklore parts that sounded similar with the original song. I admit, during the auditions Andrei grew on me. A lot. I could see him winning the nf. But that staging was. Not it. You will call me a purist, I don't care, but that dude is basically barely legal, yet he had women on stage that were more than half naked, with freaking straps around them which came across as extremely creepy to me. I might be alone in thinking this. If he kept the staging dark or whatever, sorta like his audition version I might have been more content with him winning. His make love not war thing came off as tryhard, though, we didn't need that. At least it's in romanian. And as a bonus, the hype for Aledaida and her shitty striptease club banger uwu drove me up a wall. Sorry for bringing it again but holy fuck was that annoying. It had the worst fans out there.

Latvia, along with Estonia, actually chose well. It was tied with Patrisha for me but in the end I would have been okay with both. I like their song. Hope Latvia will make it back in the finals this year. They deserve it.

Idk man, I feel like people love to swarm around these basic pop songs like ants because yasss queen slay delivered (insert country's capital) 2024 she aaateeeeee 💅👌✨ or mumbly 9th grader who just discovered Billie Eilish is rElAtAbLE yay deppreshun is what matters now in music. Nobody actually seems to pay attention to anything other than pop or that has a good message or is heading towards a different sound than what you normally hear being pOpUlAr these days. Or maybe it's just me being dramatic and flaunting that my tastes are uncommon and nobody understands my music taste boohoo

Anyway, that's it with this rant, I even contemplated for a while if I should bother watching esc this year but of course I will because it's literally my life and soul at this point. I can't say the same about national final season. I don't think I'll touch it with a 3 meters pole after this year, I'd rather listen to the selected songs after they're chosen, thanks. Honestly I find it extremely hard to choose a song that I genuinely love so far. Last year I had Moldova, France, Iceland, this year? Well, I think it's still too early to tell. Will wait and see and maybe I'll find a song to root for. But for the time being, I think I have said enough. Brb I'm going back to listening to all those boring old eurovision classics such as Net als toen on full volume to forget about the dissapointment of today.

#screw it i'm not reviewing croatia #italy will probably send something good ig #and malta i don't care about still something basic I presume #txt

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thetallkiwi · 2 years

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Trigger warning: mentioning of abuse and uses a ton of cuss words.

Me Ranting About Certain Placements In My Natal Chart Because Why Not?

So this rant is a combination of placements and aspects that I have been obsessing over within my birthchart. I’m convinced that my whole life is nothing but karma. I’m ready to fuck up past life Kili for this bs they caused me in this lifetime Lmaooo. But of course if you have any of these aspects comment below 👇 tell me how you work through them!

Trigger warning: Mentioning of abuse and use of cuss words.

I also apologize for any mistakes made, I am drowsy.

Sun Square Pluto: OH MY FUCKING GAWD THIS IS A PRETTY DIFFICULT ASPECT FOR ME. It’s literally saying, “you have to be your own dad because your “father figure” failed his job at being a dad. Chilleeee this self-parenting stuff is hard! I’m always in a constant battle with my own ego and it’s difficult. Because this is a harsh aspect, great blessings can come from the great lessons that must be learned. Not to mention that I would love to have an authority position. But once I do, I am quakinggggg. I have to make sure I do a great job flawlessly and everything nice with a little bit of spice. Not to forget: the sun also represents your core, your creativity (just one of the indicators)…and you get judged. Literally getting judged for being my damn self…like why God-

Virgo mars, 7th house: I already went on a slight rant in my previous post about my mars square pluto aspect and mentioned that my mars is in my 7th house. Here’s some more info. Having mars in virgo is already enough bullshit because nit-picking is prevalent. I’m a perfectionist at heart and it’s draining. I cannot forget the time I cried in AP English because I struggled with my essay. I erased that shit and started over a total of three times. I got a d e c e n t grade on it. I was still pissed at myself. Now going off of the placement alone, I don’t get angry. It’s more of a whiny, irritated, and annoyed type of frustration. However I get like that fast so I get over it fast. Thankful about that lol. But when I am enraged, then there’s more than just being whiny. Also mentioned that it’s on my descendant. I just want to give a shout out to those closest to me because I know I am aggressive without trying to be. Remember the saying “keep your friends close, but your enemies closer?” Yeahhhhh this applies to mars in 7th house folk so much because those closest to us, are also our enemies. You may be my friend, but you are also my enemy. The way I attract loud ass people too is so annoying. I be wanting peace and quiet (thanks saturn for transiting my 12th house) yet people be trying to blow up my phone. Damn can’t a girl get some sleep?? It’s only 6 in the morning 😭 but seriously, it’s a tricky placement to have because I am so used to people always wanting to do shit that triggers me and start fights (although the latter is rare, thankfully). The 7th house is also the house of hidden enemies, so people could be sending me so much negative energy and idk who cause they’re not going to make it known that they don’t like me. They’re intimidated yet moved by my very existence. It’s sad. To top it off, mars opposes my ascendant, which is my next aspect.

3. Mars opposition ascendant: Okay, having any planet aspect your ascendant is going to make that planet’s energy show up on you physically. Having mars opposing my ascendant, makes me look aggressive. If you were to see me in person, you would notice how tall I am, and how broad my shoulders are, as per most people do. Once again, people be wanting to pick fights with me and it’s not okay. I do feel some type of way about this because it’s continuous. Being bullied, and even managers and people above me are somewhat on my ass more than others but also don’t think I have the potential to take on bigger roles and whatnot. One phrase I am used to is “Oh KiLi, I tHoUgHt YoU wEre a BiTcH bUt yOu’Re AcTuAlLy ChIlL.” Like duhh??? I have no reason to hate on anyone whatsoever 🥴 but you will literally spend your life judging someone from the outside in instead of actually getting to know the person. Damn.

4. Moon square pluto:

*Sigh*. Volitile emotions. A super volcano. I don’t cry, but when I do, it’s a blessed release. A huge purge of whatever I have been holding down. Then a migraine comes along followed by a 3 hr nap. I just outed myself but oh well 🤣. Anyway, whatever pluto touches in a chart, is going to give it depth, so that causes the planet’s energy or luminary’s energy (in this case) to intensify. Since it’s the moon, the most sensitive placement in one’s chart, this is going to give the person emotional depth, so they’ll have the blessing and the curse of feeling more than others. But if not treated correctly or exerted, I should say, then you get a super volcano. Emotions are scary and complicated. It’s imperative for us moon-pluto people (especially harsh aspects, those with harmonious aspects are already comfortable with their own intensity) to allow ourselves time to be vulnerable so that it doesn’t build up in us and cause us pain. This usually stems from a mom (or parent but moon reps mom so yeah) being too controlling and not letting us b r e a t h e when we’re little. Not helping us process our emotions and understanding how complex this is. This causes us a plethora of problems. I don’t know if other cultures have moms that say stupid shit to their kids like what my mom said to me lol: “ stop crying before I give you something to cry about” she says after whooping my ass 100 times. Yeah….no. So then when we’re older, we carry around this heavy baggage and energy that can scare other people away. Or they become obsessed (remember literally anything pluto touches will create obsession with that placement). It’s a never-ending cycle until you learn how to regulate your emotions and use outlets instead of going crazy and wanting to physically take it out on people. This could also show a karmic tie to the mom. It can also show a sign of emotional intelligence once learning how to regulate intense feelings.

5. Virgo sun conjunct virgo mars.

I am literally one of THOSE people. I like my shit neat and istg…don’t touch my shit without asking. I promise you that I will be nice the first few times but next time nah. This is where I thank my friends again for dealing with my ass because I do overthink shit that is not there. This aspect really puts a fog over my eyes where I cannot see my own progress. I would have to do the work and learn how to embrace the positive things in my life instead of seeing the negative. It’s a lot of mental work but it must be done!

6. Uranus in 12th house, retrograde:

Ugghhhhjh we love this 😬😫🙂. This placement sucks for me. I know this can be considered an intuitive placement but because it’s retrograde…my intuition feels so far away. I struggle to use my intuition, I have to develop it more. Not to mention it is 1:14pm and I am still drowsy. Insomnia placement when underdeveloped. I don’t know how to fix the sleep schedule part. If my body says rest then I am resting. If my body says we’re awake, then we’re awake. Not to mention it’s in Aquarius. I am still learning how to express myself and be comfortable with it. Obviously I’m not going to listen to society’s bitch ass. I don’t care if I am plus size, i will proudly wear a crop top. My body is beautiful and I have B a w d y. I am going to wear what I please and it doesn’t offend people, but people will try and make a problem with it. Every now and then, I get these vivid dreams and omg they’re mostly nonsense (I need to learn how to be careful with what i consume on social media (moon trine Uranus is prominent so i may use social media to avoid feeling lol)) but they’re so…vivid. But I can’t complain because that’s the best type of sleep I be getting Lmaooo. I don’t get much of that so yeah. Although I hope that as I grow older, I can be more in tune with this placement. Apparently i am because according to my secondary progression chart, uranus moved to my 11th house which is primarily in Capricorn. Now I just have to be comfortable with my friends 😑. This feels like a liner placement because…well no one gets used to uranian energy. Upon first glimpse, of course. Heads are always tilted and not one day goes by when you have people stand there and study you. But…I am unaware because it’s in my 12th house. Anything in your 12th house you’re not aware of, but other people see it upon associating with you.

7. Neptune, 12th house, retrograde:

I don’t know who or what the fuck I am. I know for a fact that spirituality plays an important role with this placement. It’s just a matter of finding out what branch of spirituality i should pursue. I was a Christian, then atheist, then omnist, then deconstructed Christian, now I am agnostic. I’m probably going to stay that way. More like a deconstructed agnostic. I don’t want to be associated with any religion, but I do recognize God/higher power. But I won’t praise them the way how the church does. It’s all about developing a personal relationship with the higher power. But I’ll steer clear from structured religion. This is also supposed to be an intuitive placement as well, but once again, shit is in retrograde. Everything regarding spirituality and intuition feels far away. Having this brain fog and fog over your eyes are not a pretty sight nor a pretty feeling. As a matter of fact, I probably do have a strong intuition, but I’m oblivious to it. It’s not like i can use it as i please when I want, I have to actively work towards that. Of course I am a pisces rising and this is my chart ruler…well one of them. (If going by traditional astrology, then it’s Jupiter). Having my chart ruler in my 12th house makes me introverted. Mostly because it’s much more fun in my head than it is in this depressing ass world. I forgot what else I was going to say, but this can also show the possibility of achieving the “Christ concept.” Or maybe that’s more my rising lol.

8. 8th house moon, moon in libra:

I’m indecisive, but I mind my business. I stay away from most topics because I take a neutral stance. I tried to come to conclusions on a variety of subjects, but goodness gracious this is hard. Being a lunar libran, it’s challenging. People always wanna ask me about this and/or that, butttt idk. I hate that, so I try to educate myself. Then having my moon in the 8th house is similar to a Scorpio moon, and it’s at 28°, so this kind of presents more challenges. Being exposed to the hardships of life at an early age, mainly pertaining to sex, just breaks you. Just like moon square pluto, this also makes me carry heavy/intense energy and adds sexual attention and obsession. I am in the midst of learning how to heal money wounds, intrusive thoughts, and just being comfortable with my own intensity. The only other people who can be comfortable around me is those who have Scorpio/8th house placements. Or they’re a plutonian like me, which gives way to my jext aspect…

9. Dominant planet #1 of 4: Pluto.

I’m a certified plutonian. Pluto squares all my inner planets, with the exception of pluto sextile my mercury(libra 7th house ), and trine my lilith (Aries, 1st house), conjuncts my midheaven, and is located in my 10th house. This is extremely heavy energy. I naturally die and go through a rebirth, on multiple occasions, depending on what I have to heal in me. This is extremely draining. It’s hard to have a positive outlook on life and stay afloat. But the greater the challenges, the greater the rewards. I was surprised that I have this as my dominant planet because certain…leaders also have placements/aspects similar to mine, if not the same. The funny thing is that they were fascists and communists. Being this intense and realize that from such a young age is so…crazy. It explains a LOT. The intensity and difficulty of life is something that a sun dominant or a moon dominant may not be able to handle. Having to deal with people who are intimidated by you, jealous of you, and all that. Even your own mom (moon square pluto). Also, mars is a lower octave of pluto, so those aspects with mars, are also not fun. Just adds onto the craziness. I know that the various trauma I went through helped me build incredible resilience, but at what cost? A very heavy one.

10. Saturn, 4th house, gemini:

This goes with my previous placement as well. But the difference with saturn and pluto is that saturn does hard work over time to perfect the skill but pluto adds trauma to the mix. Anywho, having this placement symbolizes that the child grew up in a strict household. The parent that took care of the child, withheld emotions and didn’t nurture the child emotionally. This causes the child to learn how to put their own feelings down, causing them to be guarded against themselves. For me, it’s momma who did this. She was busy wallowing in her misery that I had to be the parent to my own parent. I had to learn stuff by myself as she doesn’t have much education either. Now, I am fulfilling the first half of the karma that this placement brings. That is taking care of my mom. (I forgot to mention that my moon is the 8th, my mom developed a health problem which increases gradually). I have to do my best to avoid the same problem that she has and to learn from her. To do this, is to create a routine that ensures your personal success which is above what you’re living through now. Then, with hard work and persistence, and perseverance, you will have fulfilled your familial karma. It’s in Gemini, so there’s also trouble with communicating. Communicating what? Problems, concerns, etc. I also have had to struggle with education and learning how to do stuff more slowly than my peers. But I’m trying to keep positive. I just hope that my family in the future will be the one I wasn’t able to have. Give and teach my kids what I acquired late. This placement also makes me a late bloomer/ early bloomer. Late because I learned things that I should’ve known when I was younger. Early bloomer because I understand life more than my peers. There are times when I don’t talk and have “quiet days” because I feel like no one listens. Then, those who do listen feel annoyed when I vent (or at least it feels like that). Being vulnerable is also a lesson in of itself. I’m what people refer to as an old soul. I’m 19 but i am easily mistaken for 21+ due to my maturity and whatnot. (I also have moon trine saturn, but I’ll go into that in another rant).

That’s all for now. I need to take a nap, clean my room, then do homework.

#8th house #astrology #scorpio venus #spirituality #12th house #astrology notes #mars square pluto #uranus in the 12th house #Neptune in Aquarius #saturn in 4th house #sun conjunct mars #pluto in 10th house #plutonian

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narumi-gens · 3 years

Text

Take What's Yours

Zen'in Naoya x Reader

summary: Succession!AU where Naoya is the spoiled heir to the Zen'in Co. empire and you, Zen'in Co.'s general counsel, are forced to babysit.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, inappropriate workplace relationships/dynamics and a hostile work environment (obviously. it's a Succession!AU and it's Naoya), enemies with benefits, misogyny, femdom, degradation, humiliation, dirty talk, spit kink 😛, masturbation (m), filming/pictures, face slapping, Naoya being Naoya, someone should really call HR

notes: Succession comes back in a couple of weeks and all I can think about is Naoya as Roman and you as Gerri. Also, "take what's yours" was the tagline for season 1 lmao

words: 3.5k

You didn't graduate top of your class from the most prestigious law school in Japan and earn your fearsome reputation as one of the most ruthless sharks currently working in corporate law just to play babysitter to a man your fucking age as he throws a temper tantrum like a toddler.

And yet here you are, forced to listen as Naoya rants about how he thinks Naobito has been showing too much interest in "that Megumi brat."

Even though the entire floor has already gone home and you've been trying to get your work done for hours, Naoya is still sprawled out across the couch in your office as he continues to seethe over how "this company's mine by fuckin' birthright."

But when he starts to go on about how "things're gonna look a lot fuckin' different once I'm the one makin' all the decisions around here" for the third time, you lose your patience.

You furiously stand up from your chair and lift the heavy binder laid out in front of you before slamming it back onto your desk. And that finally gets him to shut up.

"Get the fuck out of my office, you whiny, useless piece of shit!" you fume. Very slowly, Naoya sits up on your couch, his crisp white button-down looking annoyingly unwrinkled despite all of the lazing around he's been doing. "No one, least of all me, wants to hear you complaining about how you're not daddy's favorite anymore."

Even in the low light of your office, illuminated only by a desk lamp and the bright screen of your computer, you can see how his eyes flash. But you've gone up against Kamo Inc. in court and won. You've overseen buyouts and hostile takeovers of companies who dared to cross Zen'in Co.

You're not scared of Zen’in Naoya.

"Ya got any idea who yer talkin' to, doll?" he asks, his voice low.

And you just fucking laugh. And laugh. And laugh.

Because really? Really?

"Do I know who I'm talking to?" you mock when your laughter finally begins to subside, something sharper, deadlier, replacing the mirth on your face. "I'm talking to an arrogant and pathetic man-child who’s never had to work a day in his life and only got where he is because of his family name.”

With each word, you take a step towards him, rounding your desk as you close the distance until a few feet separate the two of you. You’re close enough now that you can see the way his jaw is clenched.

“You wanna know why your father is looking at replacing you as the heir to his empire?” you ask casually and his gaze narrows but he remains silent. “It’s because you’re nothing but a little rich boy who doesn’t use what little brains he has before acting.”

His hands curl tightly into fists in his lap, the fury beginning to roll off of him in waves. But you can also see something else starting to appear in his eyes — something excited. And it just spurs you on.

“If Naobito leaves his legacy to you, it won’t be long before it starts to crumble.”

His shoulders are rising and falling more quickly as his breathing picks up. It would be easy to assume it’s solely because he’s angry. But you’re smarter than that. You’re sharper than that.

“I’m yer fuckin’ boss, bitch,” he finally manages to growl and you just scoff with a roll of your eyes at his attempt to threaten you. You cross your arms over your chest and cock out your hip as you return to looking at him dismissively.

“Go home, Naoya,” you tell him, your voice dripping with a mixture of disdain and condescension. “Go home and sit down in front of a fucking mirror and jerk off to your own reflection since you’re so fucking high on your own over-inflated ego. The real adults have work to do.”

He gives you a long, dark look, holding your gaze as your words hang in the air. But then the corners of his lips curl upwards into the arrogant smirk that you’re annoyingly familiar with. He relaxes against the back of your couch and folds his hands behind his head, looking the perfect picture of nonchalance with the top button of his shirt undone and his sleeves rolled up, leaving his forearms exposed.

He chuckles and the sound only irks you.

“Go home? Why would I need to go home? In case yer too blind to see it, Zen’in is written across the fuckin’ building. I own this place.”

He then pauses to take in his surroundings, his eyes roving over the interior of your office from its glass walls to your wide view of the Tokyo skyline at night to the full yet neatly arranged bookshelves. After a few moments, his eyes land back on you. When you raise an unamused eyebrow, his smirk grows.

“Y’know, maybe I’ll just jerk off right here in yer office,” he shrugs and opens his legs — already spread apart in a textbook example of manspreading — even wider, like he’s trying to emphasize his crass words. “Maybe I’ll come all over yer carpet so that ya gotta look at it every time yer in here. And maybe I’ll make ya just stand there and fuckin’ watch while I do it, sweetheart.”

But you’ve had enough. This is just another one of his temper tantrums.

“Go ahead. I’m the youngest general counsel in this company’s history. My job is to protect the company by providing legal cover for all the sick shit your family gets up to.” You clearly spell it out for him like the idiot he is.

You give him a once-over with your eyes, visibly unimpressed with what you see. However, with his legs obscenely spread so fucking wide, it’s impossible to miss the bulge in his crotch.

You’re not surprised that he’s hard, not with the way he’s looking at you. Nor are you surprised by how shamelessly he’s displaying his erection. Naoya’s always felt the need to “prove” his masculinity, like a dog peeing all over its territory.

All of it only fuels your disgust for the man who’s more than old enough to know better.

“Do you really think you can scare me into submission like one of your spineless lackeys just by threatening to wave around your dick?” you continue, making no attempt to hide your skepticism. “I’ve seen much worse than some spoiled brat getting cum stains all over his Armani pants.”

“They’re Tom Ford,” he’s quick to smugly reply, seemingly pleased that he gets to be the one to correct you. Your response is a look of boredom. “And are ya really sure about that?”

He drops his hands from behind his head to let one rest on his belt buckle while the other cups the bulge in his pants, grinning up at you as he gives it a squeeze.

“I fucking dare you,” you hiss, a look of pure ice on your face.

The tension is thick as your gazes remain locked on one another’s, each of you waiting to see who will give in first in this game of chicken that you’ve found yourselves in the middle of. But neither of you have ever been the type to back down.

So, when Naoya begins to unbuckle his belt, it’s honestly to be expected. But as the sound of his belt buckle being undone clinks in your ears, followed by the sound of him unzipping his pants, you can’t help the shock that washes over you.

He’s actually going to go through with it.

You can’t do anything other than let out a short laugh of disbelief, a wide smile on your lips.

“You’re really doing it, aren’t you?” you ask, incredulity coloring the clearly rhetorical question as he pulls his cock from his designer slacks and brazenly begins to stroke it in front of you.

Your astonishment only lasts for another moment before you’re able to brush it off, pushing it deep down alongside the arousal that threatens to shoot through you as you watch Naoya spit into his hand to make the glide of his palm on his shaft all the smoother.

“Do you really think masturbating on the couch in my office and making a mess like a little boy who can’t clean up after himself is a way to assert your dominance?” you scoff, the smile on your lips turning cruel. “Are you that stupid? Do you really think you’re in charge here?”

Normally, Naoya would respond by lashing out, throwing insult after insult your way about how “yer place ain’t in the fuckin’ board room, it’s in the bedroom on yer knees,” before giving you a greasy smile and offering to replace “the stick up yer ass with somethin’ a lot bigger, doll.”

But right now, all you can hear is the wet sound of his spit-slicked hand pumping his dick, his labored breathing, the sound of his belt clinking with each movement, and the little grunts he lets out each time he circles the tip of his cock with his thumb.

“This is why no one takes you seriously, you fucking pig,” you tell him dismissively.

You then pry your eyes away from the show playing out before you. Doing so takes much more effort than you would ever admit and you know you hide it well because a soft little moan escapes him when he sees that your attention is no longer solely focused on him.

Instead, you’re looking out of the glass walls that look out at the rest of the floor’s empty office space. It’s dark, only a few fluorescent ceiling lights remain on. It looks like the two of you are the only people left on this floor — not a surprise considering hate late Naoya’s kept you, first with his whining and now with his impromptu show.

When you finally look back at him, it’s with a soft snort and a look of disgust.

“For fuck’s sake, what do think the board, your family, your father, would say if they knew about this?” The question should bring him to his senses and snap him out of whatever trance he’s fallen into. But as always, you know better. You get paid a frankly obscene salary to know better.

“All it takes is one security guard on his rounds or one janitor coming by to empty the trash,” you point out. “And then everyone would know. They would all know that you’re just a sick fucking pig who thinks with his cock.”

His eyes have lost their anger, but none of their heat. His annoyingly handsome face is flushed and he’s biting down hard on his bottom lip. You assume that he’s doing so to keep himself from moaning, but it does nothing to prevent the low grunts and soft whimpers that escape him.

All the while, his hand never once ceases in its movements.

“Maybe I’ll cut out the middle man and just let them know myself,” you shrug before casually pulling your phone out of your pocket and holding it up to thoughtfully look at it. “If just a single picture falls into the wrong hands then you can kiss any delusions you have about being named CEO goodbye.”

You look back to Naoya just in time to see the way his hips jerk up from the couch in excitement, a desperate little, “fuck,” leaving his lips. You’re careful to maintain your apathetic facade as you open the camera on your phone and point it directly at him.

“Well, Naoya?” you prompt, your thumb hovering over the record button. “Feel like taking a risk tonight?”

Just as you expected, Naoya begins to nod wildly without even taking a moment to consider the consequences of what he’s so eagerly agreeing to. It probably has something to do with the way his cock is leaking into his hand as he quickens its pace.

But it’s all the consent you need to hit record. You glance down to ensure that he’s perfectly framed on your screen before returning your attention to him.

Only for a dangerous look to pass over your face when you look back up to see that he’s closed his eyes and dropped his head to rest against the back of the couch.

“No,” you’re quick to scold, the single word sharp and heated enough to make his hand come to an immediate halt. His chest is heaving as he raggedly pants for air. “Eyes on me.”

He takes a minute, seemingly letting your words sink in before his eyes slowly open. You see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows. And then finally, he lifts his head back up and brings his gaze back to yours.

“Look at that. You do know how to be a good boy and do as you’re fucking told,” you muse and the praise, even when it’s dripping in condescension — or more likely because it’s dripping in condescension — is enough to make him whimper. But still, he remains frozen, his hand wrapped around his cock and doing nothing more as his eyes stay on yours. “Well? You’re wasting my very expensive time.”

Now that he has your permission, his hand begins to move again, its pace bordering on frantic as it moves up and down his shaft.

“I’ve always known you were pathetic but this a new low for you, isn’t it?” When he doesn’t reply, you raise an expectant eyebrow and your voice is colder when you urge him to answer. “Isn’t it?”

“Y-yeah,” he rasps but it’s still not good enough for you.

“Tell me how pathetic you are,” you demand. There’s a line of tension in his shoulders and around his eyes that lets you know it won’t be much longer before he comes.

“F-fuckin’ pathetic. I’m, nn, fuckin’ pathetic,” he grunts, his words emphasized by the unintentional whine that comes from the back of his throat. There’s a desperate look in his eyes as he wordlessly pleads with you. “G-gonna come. Shit. Oh, fuck! G-gonna, gonna fuckin’ come.”

You know what he’s asking for, even if he’s still too proud to say it aloud. He’s asking for your permission to come.

But you’ve never been one for mercy. Not in your work. Not in your personal life. And certainly not when it comes to Zen’in fucking Naoya.

You look down at your phone screen and hit the button to stop recording, putting it away before casually crossing your arms over your chest.

“Hold out your hand,” you order him and when he holds out the one not furiously pumping his cock, you roll your eyes. “The other hand.”

It looks like it physically pains him to do as you ask and take his hand off his dick, but he does it. Slowly, he outstretches the hand coated in the rivulets of his pre-cum towards you with his palm facing up.

You move closer and lean in just slightly so that when you purse your lips and let your spit slowly drip straight down, it falls directly into the center of his palm and forms a pool. When you’re done, you lick your lips clean and step back to your original spot, only to find that Naoya now looks crazed.

His eyes are darting back and forth between your lips and the small puddle of your spit in his hand. You glance down at his cock and it’s so hard and red in his lap, a trail of his pre-cum leaking right down the vein that runs along the bottom of his shaft, that it looks like all it would take for him to come is a soft breeze.

You allow yourself another moment to revel in the sight before you wave a dismissive hand.

“Well? Continue,” you tell him and he finally meets your gaze again to see you giving him an impatient look as you wait for him to do as he’s told. “Unless you want to keep wasting my time?”

Your tone promises something unpleasant if he does anything other than immediately comply. He takes one last look at the image of your spit in his hand before wrapping it back around his cock.

It takes every ounce of self-control you have to keep from shifting where you stand as the fabric of your underwear clings uncomfortably to your soaked folds. It’s been a while since you’ve been this turned on, not that you would ever dare admit it.

But seeing Zen’in Naoya, entitled piece of shit and bane of your fucking existence, on the verge of coming and with his cock coated in your saliva is something that you’ll never forget. Not least because of the video that’s now stored in the cloud for you to access whenever you want.

“Are you gonna come, Naoya?” you mock and he can only nod through the moans spilling from his lips. Your next words are spoken so coldly that even through his pleasure, a chill runs down his spine. “You better ask for my fucking permission before you do.”

“P-please?” he’s quick to ask, utterly shameless even when it comes to begging for an orgasm.

“Please what?” you prompt and he groans loudly as he tosses his head back against the couch in frustration.

“Jus’ lemme come. Lemme, ah, l-lemme fuckin’ come, ya fuckin’ bitch,” he whines and it’s the threat of tears you hear in his voice that finally makes your lips break into a wide and sadistic smile.

“I think you’re the bitch in this situation,” you say and he whimpers, his hips jerking and his hand desperate.

“F-fuckin’ please!” he cries and you let his plea hang between the two of you, savoring the sound.

“Come, you absolutely worthless, spoiled fucking brat,” you bite out and before you know what you’re doing, you’re quickly closing the distance between the two of you so that you can deliver a harsh and strong slap to his cheek.

The crack! of your palm meeting his face is drowned out by the deep groan that leaves his chest, his cum immediately spilling out in white spurts that stand out starkly against his black pants. His hips give another few jerks into his hand, which is coated in a mixture of his cum and the combination of yours and his spit.

His eyes are squeezed tightly shut and his chest is rising and falling rapidly as he pants for air. Your palm is still stinging when you take his chin between your forefinger and thumb to carefully turn his head to the side so that you can get a better look at his cheek that’s now quickly turning red from your slap rather than his post-orgasm flush.

You release him to gently trail a fingernail down his smarting skin, but your smirk turns mean and you dig your nail in hard enough to make him wince before you drop your hand back to your side. You slowly look him over before your eyes land back on his cheek and an idea pops into your head.

Just as you did before, you lean in slightly and purse your lips before spitting in his direction. Only this time, instead of pooling in his hand, it lands directly on the cheek you had just slapped.

His eyes shoot open, a mixture of anger and shock quickly contorting his features. But just as he opens his mouth to throw a barrage of insults your way, you’re quick to cut him off before he can get started.

“Ah ah ah,” you scold him with a smug smirk on your lips. You then guide his head to turn back to the side with the tip of your finger, leaving his cheek and the shining gob of your saliva perfectly on display.

His eyes are filled with an intense loathing but he stays still for you, even when you pull your phone back out and point the camera directly at him. The flash blinds him and the shutter sound echoes in his ears as you take a picture of his shameful state.

His humiliation only grows when your eyes stay on your phone instead of returning to him. You don’t even bother sparing him a final glance as you snort and shake your head with a muttered, “pathetic,” before turning on your heel and walking back to your desk.

When you sit down and return your attention to the binder that was only recently the victim of your rage, he’s left alone on your couch, sweaty and with his dick hanging out, his clothes stained, his hand sticky, as he tries to figure out what the fuck just happened.

“Get the fuck out of my office,” you tell him without looking up and his vision goes red.

He should give you a taste of your own fucking medicine. He should grab you by the back of the neck and pin you down to your desk. He should fuck you so hard that you’re torn between crying for him to stop and crying for him to keep going. He should leave you in a ball on the floor, coated in cum, spit, and tears.

But instead, all he can do is seethe when his cock twitches in his hand at your dismissive tone.

#zenin naoya #naoya zenin #zenin naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #zenin naoya smut #naoya zenin smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk smut #mel writes #take what’s yours #jjk spoilers

428 notes · View notes

cazimagines · 3 years

Text

Perfectly exasperating

Synopsis: You really disliked Zemo, but one person you disliked more? John Walker. After bonding over how you disliked him with Zemo, you have the unfortunate situation of running into John. He flirts, insults, and hurts you and Zemo is ready to put him in his place.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings/Tags: Use of swear words, John Walker being a dick, soft Zemo, protective Zemo

Author’s note: I was not intending this fic to come out as long as it did. This was one of the ones I had been putting off to write other stuff till I finally pulled myself around to writing it and ended up getting really into it. Funny how that happens.

Masterlist

Sequel

Part 3

Part 4

“Would you care for a Turkish delight?”

You bite the inside of your mouth in annoyance, refusing to even look at him. Instead of forcing your eyes to focus on a spot in front of you, not moving them in the slightest. Zemo waited for a few moments before sighing and turning away from you.

“You’ll eventually have to talk to me, y/n” he exclaims as he walks over to the kitchen side of the room. You were sitting in the safe house Zemo had provided. There wasn’t much to do, just sit and wait till the funeral started. Zemo sought to communicate to you to keep you two occupied, but you didn’t want to talk with him, so you didn’t. You just sat on the settee, staring at the sofa opposite you while Zemo walked around looking through the cupboards for food.

You were pissed when Bucky revealed he broke Zemo out of prison.

The avengers had been your family. Whenever you needed them Steve would be there to offer you advice, Tony there to make you laugh. Nat there to beat up whoever required it. Everything was wonderful in your life. For once. And he had ruined it.

He caused the family you loved to split, hate each other, and that left you alone. So alone. Losing both Tony and Steve made you more mad at Zemo. He robbed the last years you could have spent with them, so yeah, no wonder you refused to talk to him.

He loved to annoy you, though. Any moment he got he was beside you, creating sarcastic remarks about what was happening, trying to joke around with you. Trying anything to communicate with you. The worst of it was when he insisted you had to be his date on the mission in Mandripoor. Feeling his arm wrap around you, a kiss to your temple, the smell of his cologne flooding you, drawing you in. It pissed you off knowing how easily you fit into the role of his date. Yet you knew deep down why. Every time he made a snide remark, you had to bite your tongue to stop making one back. Every time he tried to joke with you, it took all your effort not to snort. You hated him and everything he does, yet you could sense a fondness growing for him, just a slight one, in the deepest corner of your heart. Left there to be locked away. Never acknowledged.

“So, the new Captain America, huh? What’s he like?” you hear Zemo ask, leaning on the counter of the kitchen table, his eyes burning into the side of your head.

You feel bile rise to your mouth as he spoke.

John Walker.

John fucking Walker.

If you hated Zemo, you despised John Walker. Just thinking of him brought a scowl to your lips. Steve meant everything to you. He was a father figure to you. He stood for all you believed in. He was your hope, your light in the darkness. And John Walker seemed to tarnish it. You wouldn’t have minded him if he was a different mascot for America. If he became America’s new hope. It was the fact that they called him Captain America. That he had the shield. The title belonged only to Steve. He claimed he wasn’t trying to replace Steve, but that is what he was doing. Him being called Captain America felt like a spit on Steve’s memory. People would forget him, everything he did for the country he loved. They would only focus on John Walker, and you detested that.

You didn’t blame Sam for giving away the shield, unlike Bucky. You could understand why he did it. That shield held such a responsibility, such a legacy it seemed impossible to ever live up to. No, you blamed the people who took the shield away from the museum. Without Sam’s permission. They should have asked Sam. But of course they didn’t care. They didn’t care at all.

“I see by your reaction that your impression of him isn’t a pleasant one,” Zemo says, bringing you out of your thoughts and back to reality.

“Have you met him?” he asks

You try to hold back your opinion, but John Walker made you so frustrated, you knew if you didn’t rant about him you would burst.

“Yes. He’s a dick,” you spit out

Zemo quickly straightens up, surprised you actually answered one of his questions.

“Oh? Are you finally speaking to me.” he inquires, walking around the kitchen counter towards you.

“Don’t push your luck” you mutter, side eyeing him as he sits down opposite you. Sam and Bucky were out leaving you alone with Zemo. At the moment you were all waiting till the funeral. Zemo claimed there were a few hours to kill before everyone had to gather. Sam and Bucky decided to check out the town, make sure they knew it well in case a situation occurred where we had to dash. They had forced you to babysit Zemo.

“No, no, I like to hear you talk. Please, if talking about how this new Captain America is a dick is how I get you to speak to me, then let’s continue.” Zemo says, pouring out a glass of whisky for you and him. He holds the glass out to you, an eyebrow raised. You sigh, grabbing the glass out of his hand and drank, feeling the warmth creep up your throat. Zemo chuckles as he watches you, leaning back on the sofa, his arms resting on top of it.

“My, my. The man must be terrible if just the thought of him is making you talk and accept drinks from me,”

“He’s so infuriating! He thinks because he is Captain America he can stick his nose in other people’s business!”

“Ah, so he is one of those people. Doesn’t understand boundaries. How rude,”

“And get this, he got annoyed at us! Telling us we should stay out of his way when he is the one getting in our bloody way!”

“No” Zemo fake gasps

“Yes!” you exclaim, going into a rant, “I can’t even bear to call him Captain America. He doesn’t deserve to be called that. His actual name is John Walker. He claimed he wasn’t trying to replace Steve, but that is exactly what he is doing! And how he talks to me as well. He’s so condescending, treating me as if I am a kid while trying to compliment me and act like he’s all that in front of me,”

Zemo’s eyes narrow and he places the glass down on the table between you two, “You mean he flirts with you?”

“If you could call that pathetic excuse flirting. I suppose. It pisses me off though,”

“I can imagine. He sounds nothing like what Steve was. Nothing like his legacy,”

It was your turn to narrow your eyes, watching Zemo curiously. “I assumed you hated Steve”

“I never hated him. No. I can admire what he stood for, I just find unrealistic. All superheroes are flawed. Innocents will consistently be collateral damage while superheroes are allowed to exist.”

You stare at Zemo, amazed. Not realising the silence you were making. You had always thought he hated Steve. It always seemed that way. Yet he didn’t? Knowing he didn’t hate the guy you always viewed as a father figure mattered to you. And you don’t know why.

Zemo stared back at you. He was studying your eyes, trying to figure out what you were thinking. He didn’t realise what he thought about Steve would have affected you, but it appears he was wrong.

“Don’t worry y/n we’re back and guess what! We found your fav-” Sam shouts, opening the doors of the room and strutting in but he pauses, noticing you and Zemo staring at each other from the sofa’s. “What’s going on here?”

Zemo is the one to pull out of the eye contact trance, smirking as he looks over at Sam, “We were just discussing John Walker.”

Bucky who had followed Sam in grounded at hearing Zemo utter that name. “Perhaps you two would like a drink and join us in considering how much of a dick he is?” Zemo asks, raising his glass to them.

A few hours later you walked down the street following Zemo to find his associate. You didn’t appreciate how secretive he was being, but you understood it. He had many people who wanted to get him, and the second he wasn’t useful to us. He would be doomed.

“It’s too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit” you hear a whiny voice shout. Peering up, you notice John Walker and his sidekick ‘Battlestar’ or whatever jogging down the steps towards you.

“Ah! How did you find us now” Bucky shouts with his arms raised, striding towards them.

“Come on. You really think three Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention,” his friend responds.

“No more keeping us in the dark,” John mutters angrily

Zemo, who you were walking besides, turns his head to you, “I understand what you mean by infuriating”

You chuckle as John looks angrily between you two, “You can start by telling us why you broke him out of prison,”

“He did that himself technically” Bucky replies, and Zemo grins at you, as if bragging about it.

“Aw, this better be an unbelievable explanation-” John Walker exclaims, reaching up to you.

“Hey take it easy before it gets weird,” Sam suggests, interrupting John.

“I know where Karli is,” Zemo reveals to John Walker, his seductive accent sticking out from the rest of them. He tries to walk past John. You, Bucky and Sam follow, but John stops him, placing a hand on his chest.

Zemo glares ahead, disgusted at John for even daring to touch him.

“Well, where” he says, getting into Zemo’s face

“All we know is, it’s a memorial so we are going to intercept her there,” Sam adds, trying to defuse the tension.

Zemo grabs John Walker’s hand and pushes it off him, striding forward again, and you jog to catch up with him.

“See why I call him a dick now,” you whisper

Zemo smirks, looking back at you, “Yes. He’s perfectly exasperating”

“What? No. Wait. No! No! Stop. Hold on. Stop. Okay?” John exclaims running forward and stopping you all in your tracks again after something Sam had said. “I think we are way past reasoning with her”

Zemo just stares ahead, fed up with John while you groan in annoyance. Not being able to even bring yourself to look at the man in front of you.

They argue for a few moments while you and Zemo stand idly to the side, Zemo glances at you rolling his eyes making you giggle. You smack his arm slightly trying to get him to stop making you laugh, but that only makes Zemo chuckle along with you. Eventually they calm John down but he glares over at Zemo, “We will deal with you later.”

“I’m sure it will all come to an agreeable conclusion” Zemo says, gesturing with his hands. He walks ahead, searching for his associate while John Walker moves beside you. You try to pick up your pace, but he keeps up.

“So working with a criminal now. Not very avengery like. I thought Zemo hated Steve. I wonder what Steve would think of you working with him,” he mutters peering at you.

“Need I remind you-you are also working with him now,”

“Come on, darling, don’t be like that,” John responds grinning, placing his palm on your back.

“Get your hand off me” you growl scowling at him

“Most women would fawn over me” John cockily resorts, still not removing his hand

“She asked you to remove your hand” you hear Zemo state, glancing over you see he had stopped walking forward, turned around and was now glaring at John. “Do I need to remove it for you?” he says angrily.

John frowns at Zemo. Finally, taking his hand off you and striding up to Zemo. Zemo tilts his head, his jaw clenching in fury as he stares at John.

“You are nothing but a dirty criminal. Don’t think for a second you can talk to me like that,”

“I will when you are being rude and disrespectful towards a lady,”

John scoffs, peeking over to you, then back to Zemo. Everyone else was standing to the side, not sure if they should intervene or not.

“What did she suck you off or something?”

Chaos ensured.

Bucky and Sam had to leap forward to stop Zemo from launching onto John while Battlestar had to hold John back. “Too far man, too far” he muttered to John

Zemo was snarling at John, his teeth bared in rage. His hair had fallen loose from their usual position and was hanging down over his forehead, giving him a more wild look. The vein in his neck stood out, twitching. His eyes were raging with fire as he looked at John. He kept trying to push past Bucky and Sam to get to John, but eventually gave up knowing it was futile.

You were standing at the side, shocked that John would have the ego to say something like that and at Zemo’s rage towards John for saying it. John adjusts his head. Not looking you in the eyes, but looking in your direction. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t of said that”

Pulling your senses together, you walk up to John, glaring at him. “Yeah, you damn well shouldn’t have. You’re a dick. Nothing like Steve. You never will be,”

John wrinkles his nose in anger, frowning at your remark. You walk over to Zemo now that Bucky and Sam had let go of him. You give him a nod, showing your appreciation, and he nods back, though still glaring at John.

“Who I choose to associate myself with is none of your business. Who I choose to suck off is none of your business. Perhaps you can go fuck yourself and learn a bit of decency,” you spit at him.

A brilliant thought crosses your brain for another way to twist the dagger of your dislike into John. You reach out and grab onto Zemo’s hand, clasping it.

The action causes everyone to turn wide eyed to you. Including Zemo. He glances down at your hand in his then back to yours, surprise in his gaze but he immediately covers it up turning back to John smirking. He turns to behind himself, then back to the group.

“My associate is up ahead,”

You all turn to look forwards and see a little girl staring at you. Walking forward again, gripping his hand, Zemo nods to the girl as you all approach.

“Hello my friend,”

He holds out some money, a lot by the looking of it, and says to her, “This is for your family”

The girl hastily snatches it, obviously in need of it, and you can’t help but feel your heart warm a bit, seeing how kind Zemo was being to her.

“Can you show us the way?”

She beckons with her hands and walks forward. Zemo looks back at you, nodding to make sure you were okay, then follows her.

“What the hell” John murmurs from behind.

Following the girl, she leads you to a building. She turns, pointing inside a doorway, and runs inside not to be seen again.

“Karli’s in there,” Zemo tells the rest of the group. Sam replies and heads inside to talk to her while John suddenly grabs Zemo’s arm and yanks him against the machine on the wall.

Zemo moans as he is shoved into it, the hard outer piece hitting into his chest roughly.

“Hey. You’ve got ten minutes” John shouts to Sam as he takes out a pair of handcuffs and attaches them to Zemo.

“Really” Zemo mutters as John cuffs him to the machine.

“Then we are doing things my way,” John declares ignoring him

“Aggressive” Zemo jokes, though from his eyes you could still see the anger he harbors towards John.

He twists his head to watch John stride forward, staring at Sam, then back to him. “But I get it”

You wander over to stand by Zemo as you wait for Sam to talk to Karli.

“This day has brought a lot of changes. This morning you refused to say a single thing to me and now just moments ago you were holding my hand,” Zemo speaks quietly to you.

You shoot him a glare, “I did that to agitate John,”

“Sure, that was the only reason” but you knew from his eyes he didn’t believe you. They sparkled with amusement as he looked down at you.

“That cuff must bother you” you mention glancing over at them.

“I don’t mind. I quite enjoy cuffs, in the right setting of course,” he quips.

You turn on your side, looking at him, your lips curling into a smile. If we are going to play that game, you thought.

“Oh, what setting would that be?”

Zemo’s smile deepened, enjoying seeing you play along, “I’m sure you would like to know”

“Do you have to do this here!” John exclaims, glaring at the two of you. You quickly step back from Zemo, forgetting that you two had company. Your eyes snap to Bucky’s with worry, but he wasn’t looking at you. He glared at the ground, not seeming to care what was happening between you and Zemo.

After that Zemo tried to engage you in conversation again but you effectively ignored him, going back to how you were treating him earlier, which you knew was frustrating him.

John was looking down at the shield, then squeezed the bridge of his nose with his fingers, panting. Both you and Zemo glanced up, watching him cautiously. You glanced at Zemo and he stared back, confirming you were both thinking the same thing about Walker.

He got up and started shuffling towards the doorway. Both you and Bucky eyed at each other for the first time with the same recognition in your eyes. You leave Zemo’s side to walk over to where John was.

“No, no, no. This is a bad idea,” John mutters as he paces around. Zemo watches him like a hawk while you and Bucky stand side by side, arms crossed.

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Sit tight,” Bucky replies.

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me,” he spits back, pacing around.

“He knows what he is doing,” you reply

There’s silence for just a moment. You watch as John turns towards you and walks fast, hitting his fist against the shield, “I’m going in”

Bucky walks forward and places his hand on John, stopping him from moving further.

He tries to antagonise Bucky, trying to make him guilty for what could happen to Sam. And you could tell his words were influencing him.

“You will not be going in till ten minutes are up,” you state sauntering over to them

“Oh, so the whore has something to say,” John spits out

In the back, Zemo growls, tugging on the cuffs that connected him to the wall. You feel the outrage prick up on you as John’s remark.

“Don’t call her that” Bucky says, glaring at John

“She’s been openly flirting with the terrorist over there, so yeah, I think it’s appropriate to call her that,” John bites back

You rush forward, attempting to punch John in rage, but he was able to sidestep you and brings the shield up, connecting it harshly to the side of your head. Pain soars across your face as you fall down onto the ground. You groan, your eyesight going dark around the sides and black patches covering parts of what you could see.

“BASTARD” you hear someone shout with a beautiful accent. From the floor, you can’t make out much of what is going on. Someone with a metal arm attacking another guy. A man with a shield being attacked by a man in a trench coat. It was all too confusing for you. You just wanted to sleep.

You could feel yourself fading in and out. Your eyes begging to close. You could hear shouting. Someone talking.

Your head was raised. Someone was holding it in their hands. Your vision is blurry but as they get nearer your eyes could focus on them. Beautiful brown eyes, messy brown hair, cute thin lips. It was him.

“Y/n!?” Zemo shouted at you, “Y/n stay with me”

“My head hurts” you mutter to Zemo as he lifts you up, placing you against the wall. Slowly your eyesight came back, and you could see your surroundings. Only you and Zemo were left.

“Zemo, where is everyone?” you ask turning your head, but in doing so it makes you feel incredibly dizzy. You groan as Zemo places a hand on the side of your face to stop you moving.

“They went after the Sam,”

“I need to help them!”

“No, you need to stay here and recover,”

You look over at the wall then back to Zemo, “How did you get out of the cuffs?” you ask

“Ah well…” Zemo says and glances down at his hand, your eyes follow and widen seeing his hand, bruising covering it, his thumb sticking out at an odd angle.

“You broke your hand to get out!?”

“Well, I couldn’t let him get away with saying those things and hurting you,” Zemo mutters, smiling slightly but you could see the pain flickering in his eyes, “I gave him a well-deserved punch in the face”

You chuckle at the thought. Leaning forward, you kiss him lightly on his forehead, a gesture of you wanting to ease his pain. You move back just in time to see him looking at you, surprised, before your vision faded.

Taglist: @multiyfandomgirl40 @ineffablebean @freyjasamael @avgravy @huntheimpossible @checkurwindow @there-goes-thefighter @bunniwritesx @montypythonsholysnail @yallgotkik @wonderwoman292

#zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo x reader #zemo x y/n #zemo x you #i love zemo #tfawts #marvel #daniel brühl #sam wilson #mcu #john walker

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akirascrybaby · 3 years

Text

Crybaby

i was watching devilman crybaby and thought about how akira reminded me a bit of eren, i added that to my love of whiny eren and melanie martinez’s crybaby and boom, this fic was born.

ik the fandom loves toxic eren, but i adore crybaby eren more

cw: sub!eren, dom!reader, fem bodied reader, lots of smut.

notes: there’s nothing wrong with being emotional or in touch with your feelings! i’m a highly emotional person as well

it’s ironic how i went from being too shy to write smut to writing this

Eren Jaeger was a lot of things. He was whiny, pathetic, always expected his mother, Mikasa or Zeke to clean up after him, but worse of all, he was unbearingly emotional.

His friends and family would claim that Eren cried more than he spoke, and Eren couldn’t even argue against that without bursting into tears himself.

His own father, Grisha, claimed that Eren spent the first 7 years of his life crying non-stop, and while everyone knew it was a gross over exaggeration, they were also aware of the fact the tears seemed to constantly flow from Eren’s eyes like a waterfall, and the smallest comment or action could set him off.

There was that time his close friends Connie and Sasha threw some rubbish on the ground. Not exactly a good thing to do of course, but instead of sternly telling them off, like Armin and Marco did, or giving them a disgusted look; like Jean and Mikasa did, Eren just started crying.

He wasn’t even aware of it until a concerned Marco pulled him aside and asked if everything was okay, and Eren had to reassure him he was fine through broken sniffles.

“I’m okay Marco, but what Sasha and Connie just did was wrong. W-what about our environment? What if we got caught? We-“ Eren never did finished his little rant, since he was too caught up in sniffles and hiccups that he couldn’t even form any words no more.

His friends were surprised, but they had gotten used to that before by now. Instead, they walked the wailing boy home, showering him with apologies and excuses.

There was also that time where he was at the gym with another friend of his, Reiner. The pair were in the locker room after their intense workout, and Reiner was gushing over his younger cousin winning some athletic award at her school, and rambling on about how it was “something in the Braun family”. Reiner was shocked to hear a sniffling sound from the bench behind him, and quickly turned around to see a crying Eren furiously wiping his tears away.

“Eren are you alright?”

“You must be so proud.” He hiccuped, wiping away a mixture of snot and tears that made the larger blond man grimace. “She’s growing up so fast and one day she’ll-“

“Eren. Enough. Go clean yourself up and we’ll grab something to eat afterwards, okay?”

The problem was, it seemed that everyone in Eren’s life had grown far too used with Eren’s behaviour.

Sure, it agitated them whenever they would be laughing and tears would be flowing from his eyes without warning.

Of course, it irritated them that they couldn’t express themselves sometimes without hurting Eren’s feelings, because Eren was just far too passionate about everything. He wore his heart on this sleeve, and had a faucet in his eyes.

Eren was a crybaby. What could they do about that?

What could anyone do about that?

—————————————-

For the first time in your life, you were actually excited to be starting a new job.

Sure, hearing the word “work” alone was enough to make you violently throw up while banging your head on the nearest counter, but until you were able to secure a rich billionaire, your part time job at the local cafè had to do.

Everything seemed quite simple at first, your co-workers were decent. Aside from Colt constantly spilling drinks and Porco losing his temper over nothing, the work environment seemed pleasant enough for you. Your assistant manager, Pieck, was nice enough to show you around and help you with your every need. Serving drinks all day also gave you a chance to socialize with others, which equally seemed ideal since you lived a somewhat isolated life.

It was quite hard however. Even though you were doing everything you were meant to, smiling and having small talk with the customers, occasionally laughing with your co-workers, having coffee with Pieck, you never actually felt anything.

In fact, the first time you found yourself feeling anything was when Porco accidentally fell trying to grab some of the freshly ground coffee on the top shelf, and you went down to help him.

Granted, he never hurt himself, but a small part of you couldn’t help but feel something at the possibility that he did, and your mind slowly began wondering to the thought of you towering above him, being in control and having him beg for you, having you in complete domination while he was helpless, needing you and you only. It was a dark and twisted thought, and one that you kept tucked away in that dark abyss you called a mind.

A week into the job, Pieck informed everyone that a man named Eren, Aaron? You never quite got the name down right, would be returning back to work. You didn’t care of course, until you heard Porco complain about him.

“I’d actually prefer working with Braun over Jaeger, and that explains a lot. I can’t fucking stand that crybaby.”

Crybaby, you wondered? Nonetheless, you pretended to be at the till while eavesdropping on their conversation.

“He’s not that bad Galli.” Colt said, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Sure he can be a little bit, uh, emotional from time to time, but he’s a good guy.”

“He’s fucking pathetic. Didn’t he cry about coffee when he was last here? Everything makes him cry, it’s a wonder he hasn’t shriveled up yet.”

“Pock!!!!”

The three of you turned around, only to see Pieck storm over and slap Porco on the head.

“Eren’s a nice guy, he’s just sensitive. Please be nice, okay?”

You only heard about Eren through your co-workers brief conversations, but the thought of having to work alongside someone like him day in day out seemed exhausting.

Why would anyone would to be around a fucking crybaby?

—————————————

Meeting Eren seemed to go exactly as your co-workers predicated.

Upon stepping foot into the cafè, he began wiping away a few tears and warmly hugged everyone, gushing about how much he’s missed them and that he hoped they were all okay, while making his way to the backroom.

You observed this interaction from the corner of your eye while mopping the floor, all the while agreeing with Porco with how pathetic Eren seemed to be.

Despite his crybaby behavior however, you did find yourself somewhat attracted to him. He was tall and easily towered over you, had eyes that seemed to reflect the greenery of the Amazon rainforest, and had his long brown hair tied up in a neat bun. His shirt hugged his tight muscles and you found your eyes wandering down to his giant hands, thinking about how he could very easily-

“Oh my God!??”

You found yourself being rudely interrupted from your thoughts by a screaming Eren, and rushed over to the backroom to find the tall man leaning over a hole in the wall. His face seemed to be a mixture of intrigue and concern, and it wasn’t until you followed his ray of vision that you saw what he was looking at.

A rat.

No, a giant titanic rat in the corner of the backroom, where food and drinks were stored.

Your first instinct was to grab a broom from behind you and to whack the rat, but you were swiftly stopped by Eren, who grabbed the broom and threw it across the room.

Two thoughts flew past your mind at that moment.

Firstly, the audacity, and secondly, is this man insane?

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” you began, crossing your arms across your chest and smirking, “but there’s a fucking rat over there and I’d like to kill it before one of our customers finds a rat baby in their almond latte.”

“What? Wait what? You want to kill it?” Eren yelled back, placing a hand on his head and pacing around in distress. You raised an eyebrow, confused, but nonetheless unfazed by his behavior.

“It’s an animal, a living being, and regardless if it’s a rat or not, you can’t kill it. I won’t let you.” He exclaimed, suddenly bursting into tears, struggling to find the words to explain himself without the floodgates opening.

“You’re going to give your life up for a rat? Is that the way you want to go?” You replied back in a monotone voice, somewhat amused by the scene unfolding in front of you.

“You don’t understand, you can’t hurt them. Can’t you feel it?” Eren whined back, crying at your nonchalant attitude to killing this rat.

You never had a chance to ask him what he meant by it, since what he did next had you standing there in shock. Eren walked over to the small hole in the corner and grabbed the rat, gently brushing its fur while giving it a warm smile.

The rat stopped squirming around and seemed to lean into Eren’s touch. You continued standing there, completely dumbfounded, while Eren walked to the backdoor and let the rat go.

“I mean this is the nicest way possible, but what the fuck is wrong with you?” You asked, dragging your feet over to Eren, who was still standing at the backdoor with a glazed look on his eyes.

He seemed to completely ignore your question, instead pointing to the wall outside. You followed the route of his finger to see the same rat surrounded by a bunch of smaller of rats, and if your guess was correct, the smaller rats were feeding off the larger one.

“It’s beautiful isn’t?” Eren whispered, a stray tear escaping his eyes. “Life is so beautiful and I can’t believe I reunited a family.”

“It’s just a rat.” You shot back, but he never heard you, instead too caught up in his own thoughts. He turned over to you, and just smiled, causing you to move away with a scowl on your face.

“What the hell Eren? Stop smiling at me like that pervert.”

“You know,” he muttered, leaning closer to you. “You’re a good person. I can feel it.”

He was pathetic, and you knew that. So why on earth did you feel a small tinge in your heart after hearing his words?

———————————————

A few weeks passed since the infamous “rat incident”. You and Eren continued working side by side, and he seemed desperate to get to know you better, constantly asking you questions and being by your side, which infuriated you to no end.

You tried complaining to Pieck, but she just laughed it off, saying that was just Eren, always trying to reach out to people and help them.

Help them? You wondered. You were doing perfectly fine, and the last thing you needed was help from a manchild like him.

You decided your best tactic would be to just ignore him and constantly be on the move, which seemed to work, until a few days later when you were working the till and Eren was sweeping up behind you.

An old lady had walked in, ordered two drinks and a few snacks, and was standing there, anxiously twirling her fingers. She kept looking at the door, as if she was waiting for someone, and kept checking her watch just as often.

You brushed off her behaviour and continued preparing her drinks, but Eren noticed the woman’s actions and found himself intrigued. He put his broom down and walked over to her, offering her a warm smile.

“Excuse me ma’am, but I couldn’t help but wonder if you were okay?” He asked, paying close attention to her body language just in case her words betrayed her.

“I’m alright thank you.” The old woman replied, placing her hand on Eren’s to reassure him. “I’m just waiting for my daughter to arrive, I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Really?” Eren enquired back, leaning forward. “When was the last time you saw her?”

“Since she was a child. I couldn’t raise her myself so I had to put her up for adoption. Thankfully she was raised by a wonderful family, and I’ve been in touch with her for quite some time now, and I’m finally seeing her for the first time since I gave her away.” The lady quietly said with a bittersweet smile, blinking back tears.

What shocked you the most wasn’t the lady’s story, but rather Eren’s reaction towards it. As if on cue, tears began flowing from his soft green eyes, and he couldn’t stop himself as the waterworks began. He pulled the lady closer, leading to a raised eyebrow from Porco who happened to walk past at that moment, and proceeded to engulf the lady in a tight hug, whispering about how he felt sorry for her, that he understood her, that he could feel her pain.

You couldn’t help but scoff at his words. Understand? What did he understand?

Pain? How did he feel her pain? What did he know about anyone else’s emotions?

It was just his hero complex, you thought. He was always trying to save everyone around him and carry the weight of their feelings.

He was pitiful, you assured yourself, carrying over the lady’s order and ignoring her and Eren’s symphony of tears, before promptly retreating to the backroom to collect yourself.

But if he really was as pathetic as you convinced yourself he was, why did you find yourself touched by everything he did?

And why did you feel a wet patch forming between your legs at the very thought of him?

________________________________________

“That lady’s story is heartbreaking. I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Eren if you don’t stop talking I will throw myself out this car.”

You had finally finished your shift, and due to the universe’s love of playing sadistic games on you, your car had broke down and you couldn’t book yourself a taxi. You awkwardly asked your co-workers to give you a lift home, putting aside your pride since you hated asking others for help.

Pieck sadly turned you down, stating that she and her partner Hange were having a date night, Colt had to pick his brother up from his swimming lesson, and Porco said he was meeting someone for dinner, and you’re pretty sure that meant Reiner, and that unfortunetly left you with one option.

Eren.

The thought of Eren driving you home, talking non stop, then bursting into tears over a hedgehog on the side of the road.

Maybe crawling home isn’t such a bad idea, you wondered.

Eren, being the tentative man he was, seemed to sense that something was bothering you, and after quizzing a stressed out Colt, he promptly grabbed you by the arm and began steering you to his car, insisting that he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and that the two of you were friends. He had to help you, and had to make sure you got home safe.

Fast forward 15 minutes later, and you’re slumped in the front of his car praying for Eren to shut up, while he was driving and gushing over everything the two of you drove past.

Bored and unable to escape, you leaned back to close your eyes, but caught a faint pink bra in the back of his car. You felt shocked, not only because you couldn’t imagine anyone putting up with Eren for sex since he seemed like the type to burst into tears as soon as you took your top off, but also your own feeling of brief jealousy. Why did the thought of Eren’s face buried in someone else’s thighs make your body burn with envy?

“Eren.” You called out, leading to a swift turn of the head from the tall man next to you, somewhat suprised since you never initated a conversation with him first. “You never told me you had a girlfriend.”

“A, what?” He replied, genuinely confused at your question. “I don’t have a, oh my God. Mikasa?” He exclaimed, eyes following your finger which was pointed towards the bright pink bra behind you both.

“Mikasa?”

“She’s my best friend, we grew up together and she lives with us. She’s dating a mutual friend of ours called Jean. Me and her share this car, so I’m guessing her and Jean were messing about.” He said, slightly grimacing at the thought of the pair of them fucking in his car.

“So you’re not seeing anyone?” You found yourself asking before you could stop yourself.

“No.” He laughed, slightly loosening the grip on the steering wheel. “I’m waiting for the right person. What about you?” He asked, his eyes flickering towards you.

“Not anymore. I just got out of an awful relationship. I drove miles to surprise him only to catch him in bed with his ex, who he was seeing behind my back throughout our entire relationship.” You responded, closing your eyes and feeling a heavy weight go off your shoulders.

You rarely spoke about the end of your only and most heartbreaking relationship, prefering to deal with it the same way you deal with everything else. Pretending it never happened.

Silence befell the car afterwards, and you kept your eyes closed for a few minutes as Eren drove into your apartment driveway. You felt the car come to a stop and opened your eyes to thank him, only to see him staring ahead with tears rolling down his eyes. He looked heartbroken, almost the same way you did when you walked in on your ex in bed with his ex, and for a brief second you remembered the words he said to you all those weeks ago.

I can feel your pain.

“Eren-”

“What he did was wrong, how could he hurt you like that? Why are some people so awful, how does he live with himself?” He rambled, tears now pouring and wails escaping his lips.

You sat there dumbfounded, unsure of what to do, before deciding to invite him upstairs to your apartment for a drink. While you didn’t want to admit it, a small part of you felt touched by Eren’s reaction, and somewhat aroused by the sight of his tears.

Eren quickly agreed to your offer, and a few drinks later, the pair of you were relaxing on your sofa and watching a dull romance made for TV movie, and you found yourself slowly laying your head on Eren’s shoulder, slightly tired from your long day. You weren’t sure how long you were lying there, since next thing you knew you felt something watery on top of your head, and bolted up to see Eren crying. Again.

The rational part of you would have ignored him, and told him to go home since you both had an early shift tomorrow morning. The emotional side of you would have tried to calm him down and talk some sense into him.

But the third side of you, a darker and unknown part of you, felt slightly turned on, and wanted to see more tears falling from his pretty green eyes. Not knowing what overcame you, you crashed your lips onto his, tasting his salty tears.

Eren was confused, but quickly began mirroring your actions, attempting to wrap an arm around your waist. You grabbed his arm and pushed him down on the sofa, straddling his waist with your legs and continuing to kiss him, making it very clear that you were the one in control here.

His mouth fell open with ectasy and his face was painted with surprise, and you moved your body a bit lower only to feel his hard rock erection poking through his trousers. You barely touched him and he was already falling apart, he really was pathetic.

“I bet you really want to tell me something but you can’t talk without crying, can you?” You purred in his ear, resulting in Eren bucking his hips up in a desperate need to feel you.

“I-. I don’t, please touch me.” He whimpered, tears of pleasure coating his pretty eyes. “Please, I need you.”

“I haven’t even done anything and you’re already coming apart? You pathetic crybaby.” You said, resulting in a moan escaping Eren’s lips. He was just as deranged as you were.

You started to slowly remove all your clothing aside from your bra and panties, and slowly began to grind your clothed slit on his clothed shaft, and placed your fingers in his mouth to silence him. He tried reaching out to remove your bra but you swatted his arm away and he instantly placed his arms beside him, eager to please you.

“You’re just misunderstood, aren’t you Eren? You cry because you can feel everything and it hurts you, doesn’t it?” He whimpered at your words and you placed your fingers deeper into his mouth, resulting in a small gag falling from his lips as you continued to grind on him even faster. “You’ve just got a massive heart, don’t you, crybaby?”

Eren furiously nodded at your words, still bucking his hips upwards and so desperate to touch you, but obidently kept his arms next to him, not wanting to disregard your command earlier, and was now sobbing around your fingers. You stopped your grinding and slowly removed your fingers from his mouth, and you and Eren’s eyes remained fixated on the string of saliva that followed it.

You slid off his body to remove your own bra and panties, leading to a whine from Eren, who was clearly distraught over the fact that he never got to take them off for you. You motioned for him to copy you, and within seconds he was just as bare as you were, lying back on the sofa and obidently watching you.

You climbed on top of him again, but instead of paying attention to his hard and aching member, you dragged yourself up across his chest until your wet core was over his collarbone, and began rubbing, instantly moaning at the feeling of his collarbone grinding against your clit.

To say Eren was in heaven was an understatement. He tried to rub his tears away but you grabbed his hand, telling him to let the tears flow, and that he looked so pretty when he cried, and that he was your good boy, your pretty crybaby.

Eren was sure his heart was going to explode from the praise, and he placed his hands on your hips, helping you move quicker against his collarbone. The combination of Eren’s tears and the feeling on your aching core rubbing against him was too much, and you came all over his chest.

Eren, being the sweet crybaby he was, cleaned your juices from his chest and smiled at you, almost as if he experienced your own release. He reached his hand towards you and slowly caressed your cheek.

“That was amazing, you’re amazing. You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, a stark contrast to his earlier sobs.

He looked so serene, with his lovely green eyes blown with lust, and his cheeks coated with a mixture of new and dried tears. He was so sweet, and content with leaving everything there, just as long as you were happy. How could you deny him when he looked so pretty below you, placing your own pleasure above his?

You moved further back across his body and gently touched his aching shaft, before softly stroking it and watching the pretty tears fall from Eren’s face. He held back a sob, trying to retain his composure, but you pulled his face closer, muttering praise in his ears.

“Let’s those tears drown you, Eren.”

You hovered over his cock and began slowly sinking into it as the pair of you hissed in pleasure and the sudden new feeling. Eren laid frozen, trying to process the feeling of being inside you. He buried his head in your shoulder, quietly sobbing in joy.

“Please, please can I move? You feel so good, fuck-“

You placed a kiss on his lips to silence him, before slowly moving your hips back and forth, with Eren bucking up into you as the pair of you chased euphoria.

“You feel so good Eren, my little crybaby.” You moaned, feeling closer to coming a second time as Eren continued pounding into you while gently rubbing your aching clit. “You’re just like me aren’t you?”

Eren never heard the second part, as he was fully sobbing as this point, wondering how someone could feel so good, and secretly hoping you’d let him touch you like this again. His mind was clouded with possibilities of the two of you doing this again in the future, and he was certain he’d had fallen in love with you at this point.

He had a small vision of marrying you, which was pathetic, he knew, but the thought of it drove him to the edge, and he painted your walls white while tears fell from his eyes, and his waterworks was enough to make you clench around him as you came.

An orchestra of sobs and moans filled the room as you both came undone together, and you slightly grimaced as you got off him and fell into his chest. The weight of what had just happened hit you, but rather than be regretful, you leaned into Eren’s touch, who had immediately pulled you closer into a hug as soon as he pulled out, as if he was afraid of you vanishing and leaving him.

A silence befall you both as you quietly laid there listening to each other’s heartbeats, before you turned over to Eren.

“I didn’t mean to call you pathetic. You’re actually kinda nice. There’s nothing wrong with being a crybaby.” You whispered, noticing how his face lit up at your words.

“People mock me all the time for it, but there’s nothing wrong with being a crybaby. I really don’t care what anyone thinks, well, apart from you.” He replied, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Besides, it’s whole reason this happened.”

“Well, maybe I might just let you fuck me again. Crybaby.” You laughed.

“A crybaby who made you come twice.”

“Shut up Eren.”

Suffice to say, Eren and his crybaby tears kept coming back to you since that day.

#eren smut #eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x you #snk fanfiction #eren fanfiction

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foreverethereal123 · 2 years

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Hey guys! It’s me. Again. (Warning : It’s just me ranting, you’re not obliged to read the whole thing lolol)

Other than being obsessed with Fanfiction and various OCs (I’m not kidding. I love them like my own babies), I also found friends, which is surprising because I don’t make friends lol. I never ever would’ve thought, in my life, that I would get that much comfortable while talking to someone I haven’t physically seen but I did (Yay to fucking mee!!)

I had prettyyy high hopes for 2021 to suck after the kind of shit we all witnessed in 2020. Things were going exactly as I had planned, shittier than Ms. Shitty Shit Shittiest (Idk who she is but she sounds like a bitch), then I joined this hellsite back in May. I downloaded this app with the hopes of staring at fan arts and seeing what people thought of my favorite and non-favorite pixels (How I joined Tumblr is something that embarrasses the living shit out of me and turns my face red which means I’m taking it with me to my grave…and if I get cremated then with my ashes!!) but what I didn’t know was that I would get obsessed with Fanfiction. Which you guys are wellll aware of...

Thank you for making this year better than I could've ever imagines!! I hope with all my heart that you, your families, your friends have a great 2022 because you deserve that and then some. Oh, your enemies can rot in hell🥰

Guys, I’m so thankful for all of you! For tolerating me, my whiny paragraphs about how my life sucks (it just be sad sometimes), my screams, my wild keysmashes, my conspiracy theories (they’re not even correct! I just say the first thing that comes to my mind lmao), my obsession with your stories or your characters, my essay-long reblogs (I still haven’t figured out why it takes me a month to write research papers, projects or any sort of work🤔🤷🏻‍♀️) but above all, I am thankful for your friendship and all the love you guys send me. It makes my heart fly like a mosquito cute, colorful bird🦜🕊🐦

Thank you : @ao719 @bbrandy2002 @burnsoslow @kat-tia801 @dcbbw @queenrileyrose @sfb123 @txemrn @sincerelyella @charlotteg234 @choiceskatie @bebepac

With all the love that my ice-cold heart can bear to create,

P❤

I lubsss you!❤

#I'm feeling 22 #<- I. CAN'T. CONTROL MYSELF!!

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cielcius · 3 years

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CUDDLING (BNHA, HQ, & JJK) | HEADCANONS PT. II

includes: atsumu m., bakugou k., bokuto k., fushiguro m., hinata s., kenma k., kuroo t., nishinoya y., oikawa t., & osamu m.

from the writer: these are v different than the other cuddling hcs but bear w/ me, I actually like these

notes & warnings: light cursing, vulnerability, mentions of cooking, venting/ranting, mentions of injury, cuddling pt.I

Atsumu:

he gets a little whiny when you say that you don’t want to cuddle him, so as you can tell, cuddles are an often occurrence

and it may just be him coming off as clingy (and it is) but Atsumu really cherishes every moment with you and learns to do so because of his full schedule

he knows that relationships are risky when you’re practically on the fast track to becoming an athlete who’s constantly training

and he realizes that he probably won’t have that much time to spend with you in the future because his passion and you are both really important to him and he can’t help but be greedy and want to have both

so at times like this, he really wants to focus on you the most and cuddling is one of the best ways to do so

it lets him relax and spend time with you and best of all, he gets to see your face and have deep talks about life. don’t question him about it, once he starts, you’re not gonna stop him until he gets to a satisfying conclusion to what exactly is the purpose of living in this world

and for him, it’d be to love you ofc :) but going back to cuddling, he likes it overly warm cause his body just runs very cold for some reason unless it’s after he’s played an intense game

you have to watch out for those hands cause there’s three outcomes, one: they’re tickling you to death, two: they’re secret weapons to put on your body so that you’ll push yourself closer to him for warmth, and three: they’ll land right on your ass :3 and in the most innocent and playful way possible cause flat or not, he’s grabby for you and your attention

Bakugou:

ah, my sweet baby boy, i love him so much but god he’s so annoying(ly cute)

he’s so touch starved and the thought of cuddling is so foreign yet so desirable to him and it makes him act even more tsundere somehow like wtf bro >:(

but it’s okay no, it’s not, it’s not okay cause the first time you guys cuddled he would not move a single inch out of fear of blowing you and your bed up like man’s literally didn’t want to breathe until you said he could but is he gonna admit that? no, so you’re not allowed to say anything or he “blast you off the face of the earth”

okay but seriously, he’s actually really scared of hurting you because he knows how harsh he can be with not only his words but his actions as well and he wants to be able to care for you gently in some form of affection

he says he wants to be the big spoon but if you have to ask him at least twice for him to open up and tell you what he actually wants in the most tsundere way possible

which is to be irritated about you insisting on holding him, but it’s honestly something he really needs

he’s scared to tell you because he feels like he can’t show vulnerability when he feels like he needs to be tough enough to protect you in a world like yours

being able to feel your body against him and to hear your heartbeat resonating throughout your body comforts him more than you would think, he takes cuddling as an outlet for him to show you how much he cares and loves you

Bokuto:

ahh, baby is smiling the moment you ask if you guys can cuddle, and as hyper as he is everywhere he goes, he’s actually really easy to put down since he does tend to use up a lot of energy during the day

so if you guys face each other while cuddling, you’ll see a softer, calm smile that’s just as genuine as any other grin of his

he really likes it when you play with his hair

it goes in many directions as you can tell and sometimes it even hurts his head when he lets it down for once so please massage his scalp and not only will he fall deeper into sleep but also into love with you god that was so cheesy

you’re kinda like his teddy bear

he hugs you really tight because he’s conscious of how loud and annoying he can come off as to some people and he’s scared that you might see him as that one day too (you never will bc its Bokuto <3) but he feels like if he doesn’t hold on tight to you, then you’ll slip out from his grasp (he just doesn’t want to lose you 🥺)

I'm not sure if anyone would expect this or not, but he’s a really good listener so if you have something on your mind then he’ll listen if you need to vent about it because he wants to make sure that you’re happy and when you aren’t, he wants to help you through it until he’s reached the maximum capacity of his abilities

if he sees that you have even the slightest hint of eyebags, or just straight up trash bags under your eyes if you’re like me T_T, he’ll get sad that you’re overworking yourself when your body clearly needs rest and he’ll bring his hand up to soothe the skin before placing a kiss there

Fushiguro:

i would think that as much as he liked to be held by you out of comfort and love, he also wants to be able to hold you

he has that sense of protection over the people he loves and cares about and that especially includes you so you guys are constantly switching positions during cuddling

if you haven’t also noticed already, he tends to get injured a lot in battle for almost no reason sometimes and it honestly just hurts you too sometimes to see him so fucked up especially from Todo like wtf bro ik he was testing him but still 😭

so there are times when you have to be especially cautious with Fushiguro when his body is trying to heal give him healing smooch ^3^

and if you’re the one who’s hurt? god forbid that he ever touches a single hair on your body because he doesn’t want to hurt you more than you already are, even if you insist that you’re fine, he won’t let up unless you’re as stubborn as him or until you’ve completely healed he claims it’s different for him because you heal him mentally

he also tries to be gentle with you, and he is, but he feels like he needs to restrain himself from putting his needs before yours even during such a trivial time as cuddling when he really wants to hold you tight for a sense of security so it’ll be small but the signs are there

sometimes when you’re on the verge of sleep, you might feel a little tickle against your nose and yes, that is Fushiguro giving you a bunny kiss

he finds those as a form of intimacy that feels like he can tell you everything through one little brush of his nose against yours and the action is so innocent but to Fushiguro, it holds a lot more meaning than you would think and in a way, it’s sort of his silent ‘i love you’

Hinata:

Hinata is initially a person who likes to smile a lot and he knows how to show his emotions well

but when you’re with him, he’ll try to mostly stay happy for you until you guys cuddle, you could say that the first time was kind of a turning point for your relationship

like I said, he knows how to show his emotions but it’s actually very selective when it comes to most people so this would actually be the first time that you’ve seen him calm

or as much as he can be since he is also really nervous to be close to you, and after the first few initial times of cuddling, he’ll even go as far as to tell you what’s disturbing him

he has a lot on his mind that isn’t always gonna be volleyball and sometimes it’s trying to keep up in school, sometimes it’s trying to keep contact with an old friend, and sometimes it’s just worrying about you

he’s not in a relationship with volleyball, he’s in a relationship with you and he wants to be able to focus more on you and your own occupations as a way of getting to slowly learn more about you

he really likes to hold you against his chest. he’s a bit smaller than average yes, but that only goes to spur on that feeling inside him that makes him want to take on the world with you at his side

he’ll get really blushy if you appreciatively kiss him anywhere while cuddling. as much as he likes to praise and encourage other people, he likes it when you cheer on for him as well because through all of his life, he’s been told that his abilities are limited but when you finally cheer him on and tell him that he can do whatever he wants to do, that’s the moment he falls deeper

Kenma:

he’s not even sure what to do if you even try to hint at wanting to cuddle him

all he’s ever known are virtual battle axes and tossing a ball around so as lazy as he seems, he’s actually really fidgety (you could say it’s from constantly handling his gaming console in his free time)

you guys might not be laying down so much as him sitting up against the headboard of the bed and playing games while you lay your head in his lap or on his shoulder

but he’s not really used to the idea of touch (or people for that matter) so those positions are his compromise for any type of skinship you may desire

he won’t try to show his emotions and even when he wants to, it takes a lot of energy for him since he just comes off as chill most of the time but little do you know, he’s actually beaming inside at the new idea of being able to spend time doing what he likes and with who he likes

but even while he’s playing his video game, he does feel guilty that he can’t exactly give you what you want or need because of his antisocial tendencies

it’s honestly a bigger surprise to him that you would ever want to be with him in the first place so even when he’s nonchalantly inserting his opinion when asked, he tries to do it in a way to show that he appreciates you most of all for sticking with him

occasionally, he will want a hug for a few minutes at most but if he does fall asleep (and he just might because he’s sleep-deprived from playing games all night) then you’ll have the chance to actually see and feel how much he loves you from how tight his hold becomes, it may not be the tightest but it’s the thought of him not wanting to let go that touches you

Kuroo:

your relationship is full of teasing. playful touches, quick pecks to the cheek, and best of all: moments of vulnerability in the events of, you guessed it, cuddling

in the outside world, he’s known for playfully making fun of his s/o in the most loving way but to you and only you

he’s a nerd who really likes his hugs because his snarky self can’t always keep up with his true intentions, that being to have a moment of peace with you where everything is laid out bare (verbally not literally, jeez ��)

as cool as he may seem to everybody else, he doesn’t want to keep up that silly act around you and he wants to be comfortable enough to talk about random chemistry theories he learned from lectures or an upcoming game he’s worried about and he wants you to be able to do the same

he feels like cuddling is one of the big chances where everything on your mind goes and you get to have the talking spoon

of course he won’t force you to do so and at times there might just be complete silence between the two of you but there’s been enough said to each other that you don’t have to talk at all

he’s a smart man. he knows a lot of stuff which means he’s taking those classes where the work piles up even more and he feels like the world is pushing him down, and that’s where you come in. being with you doing almost nothing is therapeutic to him and his body just feels that much lighter at your touch

Nishinoya:

his position in volleyball is tough and just as important as any other position which means he’s training a lot

translation: there’s not much time he gets to spend with you after practice. but that doesn’t mean he’s not gonna try to make it work so surprisingly, yet not so surprisingly, you guys have a lot of fun sleepovers thus, initiating cuddles

before rejoining the club in his second year, you had to watch him train himself almost to death and he was littered with bruises

it was like you were the only one who was outwardly conscious of that but nevertheless, he’d deal with the pain and hold you close anyways because you’re his s/o who he loves so much

he’s fine with being the big or little spoon, or if you want to face each other (whatever that position is called idk) then he’s completely fine with it. as long as he gets to talk to you and that you’re happy, he’ll quite literally do anything you want him to (and i mean, that’s a lot of power 😳)

but he’s always moving and he can never stop, even in his sleep you sometimes get pushed to the floor because he accidentally kicked you out of bed (he got so sad when you told him the first time💀so you never tell him that he does it so often)

but when he’s awake, he likes to play with your hair or even the hem of your shirt so he doesn’t have to move you out of your comfortable position

he falls asleep really fast but only with you. he’s not bored so much as he just feels so at ease and comfortable with you that everything that seemed so important, that it was starting to stress him out, just vanishes. you bring a neutral zone where he is able to properly rest in your care and he loves every part of it

Oikawa:

please, ask him, beg him if you have to if you want to cuddle because he really needs the rest but he’s too stubborn on volleyball to get it (how ironic for someone who told kageyama to know when to rest) but whatever you do, you can’t let him overwork himself

he can get really restless at first ngl, he’ll twitch and feel the need to get back on the court because that’s where he belongs

so you have to show him that his life should not surround a single sport because you’ve heard from others (Iwa-chan) and even Oikawa himself of his past moments that weren’t so bright

and is that going to make you love him any less because of those moments? of course not

even when he vents to you at times, you know that’s when he really can’t bottle things up, but at the same time he also feels like he shouldn’t keep it from you because he trusts you so much it’s almost unreal to even Oikawa himself

when you’re caressing his cheek and you sweep his bangs out of the way to give his forehead a kiss, whisper little words of affirmation and encouragement to the best of your abilities

soon enough, he’ll come to recognize what you’re doing and he absolutely loves you for it

in return or even just at random moments like in the dead of the night, he’ll lightly, almost not even touching, press a kiss to your nose and it’s small and short but he puts so much love and meaning into it because he wants you to impossibly feel how he adores you in the small moment in which the two of you are connected

Osamu:

this is perfect. you want to cuddle, he wants to nap, and the best of all, you’ll still be spending time together so basically, Osamu considers every cuddle session a date

if you want to go into the outside world for an actual date, he’ll shortly complain about you guys already having a date yesterday night when all you did was cuddle but regardless, he’ll still take you out

he feels like your guys’ best dates have been indoors though: cooking, watching tv, cuddling

Osamu likes the feeling of mundanity and being so casual with you that it feels like he’s already proposed and married you. and it’s when you guys are huddled in his little twin bed that he knows you’re the one he’s gonna end up marrying in the end

the way he looks at you is like the first time he confessed, except now he’s not afraid to show it so he professes his love with every extra second he stares, which is longer than any other normal person, and even when he knows that he can just say it out right to you, he doesn’t

eye contact has come to be a form of communication between the two of you and it brings him back to elementary school where kids would make up their own secret codes to talk shit about the teacher

so he keeps eye contact with you not to be awkward but to make sure that nobody else but you knows exactly what he’s saying

he feels comfortable napping around you, it was a given from even before you got together and people may not think much of it, saying that it’s normal Osamu behavior, but never would he nap with his brother in the same house so you know the moment he knocks out, he’s placed his full trust in you to keep him safe just as he would do for you

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pascalpanic · 3 years

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Just One Mission (Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x Champagne’s Daughter!Reader)

Inspo: I Like It, I Love It by Tim McGraw

Summary: Your father, Champ, runs Statesman, and you’re his best- and only- female agent. Your normal partner, Tequila, is out, leaving you with another agent. Normally this would be fine, but it’s with Whiskey, who practically ignores you, despite the fact that you’re crushing hard on him. You’re sent to the county fair to track an undercover bad guy under the guise of being a couple for your latest mission, and it starts to feel more and more like something is happening, not just between your fictional couple.

WC: 5.1k

Warnings: language, obvious mentions of alcohol (this is Statesman after all)

A/N: Can I get a yeehaw for our favorite cowboy? Biggest of thank yous to @remmysbounty for helping me name this!

“You can’t be serious. Why can’t anything ever be straightforward around here? Why do I always have to go play make-believe?” You asked, pushing your glasses back up your nose to clarify his hologram. You move from where you stand, against the window showing the New York skyline, to walk towards the meeting table.

Champ gives a chuckle, as if he knows everything. Of course he does. He’s your boss and he never fails to make that known. “You came into this job knowing you’d be doing undercover work, Amaretto,” Champ says with a pointed look. You bite down on your lip to avoid cussing and look down to avoid his eyes. “Plus, you’re our best. And our only lady.”

“Whose fault is that?” you grumble, crossing your arms. Normally it doesn’t bother you much, but today you wished more women worked in the field. “Why can’t I go with Tequila? Him and I work well together, you know that,” you ask, hating your voice and your tone. You sound like a whiny teen complaining to her dad. Honestly, it was close enough, and maybe even worse: you were a fully grown woman complaining to her dad.

Your father, Champ, sighs and removes his hat. “For God’s sake, ‘Retto. Tequila’s mission has been extended. I’m sorry to tell you that Agent Whiskey will be your partner for just one mission, for one night.”

“Dad, I-”

“That’s Champ when you’re in here, Amaretto,” he chides, which makes you groan and plop down on an office chair, kicking your legs up onto the table and crossing them. “It’s a small mission. You can handle it. Whiskey’ll treat you right.”

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you knew you could handle it. You would be more than fine pretending to be Whiskey’s sweetheart for the evening. It was what came after that you didn’t want. You had known Jack for a while now, and had been hiding a crush ever since the man first entered your life.

You had been a Statesman ever since your father revealed to you that he wasn’t just the head of the Kentucky distillery- he was the head of a spy organization under the same name. Your career here hadn’t been long, but you were already proving that the skills must run in the family. You were the first female field agent, had a perfect mission record, and no unnecessary kills or injuries. That impressed Jack as much as the rest of the facility, maybe even more. You were a stunning and sharp woman with brains to match.

As much as Whiskey wanted to flirt with you, to tell you just what he thought of you, he held back. Your father held his job by a string. In order to hold back everything he thought, he kept a distance. You were the only woman in the company Whiskey didn’t flirt with. “He hates me,” you say sharply to your father, telling him what you really thought Whiskey’s opinion of you was. He complimented every woman around him, but he actively avoided you. When you had talked in the past, it was brief and he had always found an excuse to leave. How else could you take that?

“Prob’ly just jitters around the boss’s girl,” your father drawls, and you want to scream and shout and throw a temper tantrum. “Besides, you both have roles. Neither of you have to be yourself.”

Stopping you before you can launch into a rant, a knock comes at the meeting room door. You look and- speak of the devil- Whiskey peeks his head in, finding you alone in the meeting room. “Sorry. Heard ya talking, you in a meeting?”

Your father laughs as he hears the man’s voice. “Tell him to put on the glasses,” he tells you, only audible through your earpiece. You relay the message to him and once Jack’s glasses are on, he straightens a little, addressing your father. “Good to see you, Whiskey. Just telling Amaretto about the mission,” Champ tells him, and you roll your eyes.

“Right, that mission. Next week?” He asks, clarifying, eyes darting to you briefly before finding your father again.

“You got it.” A knock comes at the meeting room in Kentucky, and your father turns for a moment, then back to the two of you. “Ginger’s callin’. Talk to you later, darlin’, and you too, Whiskey.” He takes off his glasses and the image of him disappears.

You remove your legs from the table, swiveling your chair and removing your glasses. “How exciting, huh?” You ask dryly, eyes finding Whiskey’s. “The hottest week of the summer and he’s sending us to Alabama to spend a night outside.”

Jack chuckles a little, your sarcasm penetrating through the shield he has up specifically to deflect you. “At the county fair, no less. Couldn’t these idiots set up shop in a refrigerated warehouse?” He sighs, adjusting his hat.

Tearing your eyes from him, you look out of the impressive window instead. “Sure to be a fun time,” you shake your head. He looks so handsome, and it makes you want to punch something. “Why my father loves to put me in these situations, I’ll never know. He’d never do this to Julep,” you lament. “I must be the expendable kid.”

“Julep is 17,” Whiskey reminds you, raising a brow. “You’re the only one of age, and you’re probably the only competent one too. He showed me a video of Rosé at the gun range and good Lord, how the hell did a man like that birth something so clumsy?”

“Why do you know so much about my sisters?” You ask him, tilting your head.

“Your father never shuts up about ‘em. He shows them off constantly,” he shrugs. “Shows us videos, pictures. Even knew plenty about you before you came.” You raise an eyebrow at that, and he shakes his head quickly. “Barely anything personal. Hell, I don’t know your real name. He’s never called you or your sisters anything but your nicknames.”

You stand, gathering the folder you brought into the room with you. “Well, that’s a comfort. I’m not Champ’s daughter, I’m Agent Amaretto, and that’s the way I’d like to keep it,” you say, your voice slipping away from sharp and into flirtation. Whiskey’s deadpan slips into a smile and you press the folder into his chest as you walk past him, and out of the room. The smile grows wider as he turns to follow you.

Whiskey was right. It’s the hottest week of the summer, the August heat making you feel sticky and swollen, and you’re in Alabama. Disgusting. You look in the mirror and groan as you look at yourself. You were told that you and Jack need to blend into the atmosphere of the county fair, and you sighed.

The past week, the two of you had prepped for your mission, slowly melting the thick layer of ice that subdued both your crush and his flirtation. He had slowly slipped into his regular self around you, which you didn’t notice. You didn’t know the real him. You had become more of yourself too; less sharp, more smiles, even a few laughs at his terrible southern euphemisms and adages. He finally called you darlin’ and sugar and sweet thing, and you felt your face warm more than it should. You let your walls down by the time you got on the plane, joking around with him and making actual conversation. During the flight, the two of you had enjoyed picking cover names, deciding on Beau and Jolene Pruitt, a newly married couple. Both were native Alabamians with thick drawls, not that it would be out of character for Jack.

Getting to wear casual clothing around that man excited you far more than it should, and you had spent a stupid amount of time picking out something that would fit in but also look nice. The wardrobe women had packed you plenty of options to mix and match from, and you settled on something that seemed to be a mix between your cover and yourself. You wore short denim cutoffs, ripped and distressed, with cowboy boots to match. You also wore a white tank top and a red, white, and blue flannel, either to be worn open or tied around your waist. A large gold cross pendant rested on your cleavage, as many women around here similarly had. It was imperative that neither you nor Whiskey could be recognized, and you had been given a wig of thick hair the opposite of your natural color, plaited into two French braids that were long and ended around your waist. No mission was complete without your gold, wire-rimmed Statesman glasses.

You have to admit, you enjoy this look, minus the gaudy jewelry. You get to show off a little bit more than you normally would, and you secretly hope Whiskey may up his flirtation with you. You’re recognizable to someone who would know you, but the change of hair color and the glasses are a solid cover-up. You snap a picture in the mirror, sending it off to the ladies in the wardrobe department. you ladies spoil me- I love getting to look cute for a change!

The women reply a moment later with a picture of all of them. You’re always cute, sugar! Show that man what he’s missing!

So, maybe you had confided to the wardrobe ladies that you found Jack attractive. Who didn’t? They agreed, but all showered you with attention and insisted you should make a move on this mission. You had said no, but they had hounded you over and over until you told them yes. It was a lie, but they didn’t need to know that.

A knock comes at your hotel door, and you smile before you can stop yourself. You force yourself to drop it, tossing one of the braided tails over your shoulder, and open the door. “Well there, Beau,” you drawl as you see Whiskey, but you stop and laugh a little as you scan his body.

His reaction is the exact same, after a brief scan of your outfit. You both break into laughter. Jack is wearing cowboy boots, jeans, a white t-shirt, and a flannel with a different pattern but the same colors- red, white, and blue. “Stealing my thunder with the outfit, I see. Are you going to put your costume on or what?” You ask teasingly, and he shakes his head.

“Believe it or not, Jolene, this is my costume. Seems the only different thing about being Beau is my name.” He grins wide at you, adjusting his similarly gold-rimmed aviators that rest beneath his classic Stetson.

You shake your head but smile. “Why am I not surprised?” You tease, turning and grabbing your phone and the large bulletproof purse you’d be carrying tonight. “The ladies in the wardrobe department are going to love this,” you chuckle, and then freeze for a second.

They did this on purpose.

Whiskey has the same thought as you. He had confided in the ladies in the wardrobe department that he found you absolutely stunning but unattainable, due to the fact that your father was the control of his… everything. They had chattered excitedly, telling him that he should make his move on the mission too. He had done the exact same as you- said yes, but as an appeasement. “Well, they sure are. We’ll have to get someone to take a picture of us while we’re there.”

You nod, your heart skipping a beat at the fact that he wants a photo of this. It’s just for the mission, of course, you tell yourself and brush it off. “Oh, and that’ll be perfect cover. Of course these two would want a photo taken of them. We can do it right in front of the marks- better yet, we can ask them to take the picture,” you chuckle happily and sling the heavy purse over your body.

“Or we can take a picture now,” he chuckles, nodding to the mirror you just took a picture in a moment ago.

“Sure,” you nod and lead him over to it. “Uh… smile?” You laugh and hold out your flannel for the photo. Jack makes finger guns and gives the camera a seductive face in the mirror, making you laugh. “Jesus, I thought you were the smooth agent.”

“Smoother than you. You’re smooth like a gravel road in a dry spell, look at that pose,” he says and zooms in on the picture. “Pose like you have some confidence in that pretty little head, honey,” he teases. “Copy me.” He makes the same pose, and you mimic it, taking a picture before bursting out laughing. “Much better,” he nods as he looks at the image. “Better send me that,” he nudges your side before walking to the door. “Well, Jo, let’s get this show on the road.” Smiling at the picture, you send the image to the wardrobe ladies. very subtle, Charlotte! You fire off before pocketing your phone and following him along. “Aw, Jo and Beau,” you coo, your personas snapping into place as soon as you leave the hotel room, clutching his arm.

The two of you meander down through the hotel, finding your way to the parking lot. You break away from him to sit in the Bronco (of course he brought it) but you find yourself missing the contact of your arms intertwined. It’s probably for the best though, you think to yourself. If you have to keep touching him all night, it’s quite possible the Alabama heat may melt whatever’s left of the iceberg you’ve built to hold back your crush on him.

A man bumps into you, and Whiskey is at your defense before you can defend yourself. “Watch it, cowboy,” Jack fires back, his hand resting on the small of your back. You smile up at him, practically making heart eyes. It looks in character, and you’re glad for that, but it’s entirely you.

“My hero,” you giggle and place your hand on his chest.

“Just for you, sugar,” he says sweetly and you beam up at him. He looks around, as you do, but the two of you rest there. It’s hot, unbearably, but yet you enjoy the contact your body makes with his. Both of you wear your flannels around your waist, allowing your grip on his arm to hold his strong muscles directly. It’s definitely enjoyable. “You hungry, honey?” He asks.

You have to admit, you haven’t eaten much today, mainly out of nerves for the mission. But everything is going just swimmingly: you have eyes on the target, have a plan to infiltrate them later, and are now just biding time to seem normal. “I… yeah, I am,” you nod and look up at him. “How ‘bout some cotton candy?”

“Now, darlin’, if you’re hungry, that ain’t gonna do the trick,” he says and raises an eyebrow, removing his aviators and hooking them on his collar. “This is the county fair, for cryin’ out loud. Let’s get you something deep fried.” You nod in agreement and the two of you wander over to a stand selling various deep-fried atrocities. You smile and chuckle, letting him order for the two of you. The vendor hands you each a ridiculously large corn dog, and you laugh.

The smell of the food makes your stomach growl. “Oh god, I didn’t realize just how hungry I was,” you moan as you bite into the food, your thick accent dropping. “Good choice, babe,” you tell him, smiling at how easily it comes.

“I know you, sugar,” he teases, leading you to a picnic table where he sits across from you, munching on his own. No one else is around here, allowing you to speak freely. “Really, I do. I found out your real name the other day,” he says with a smile, and you nearly choke on the breading, halfway down your throat. He finally says your name aloud, drawing it out, making it sound like it’s coated in honey and dripping with flirtation.

You look down at your food, biting your lip. “Who told you that?” you ask, still staring down.

Jack chuckles at that, ignoring the question. “Beautiful name for a beautiful lady,” he teases, and you chuckle, shaking your head. The flirtation is much better than the stone-cold silence before a week ago, but it doesn’t do anything for the growing crush you have on the man. “Champ must’ve known you’d be a stunner.”

“Have you heard of nominative determinism?” you ask as you look up, tilting your head and twirling one of the long braids of your wig around your finger. The words sound funny with the thick accent you’re putting on. Whiskey shakes his head. “It’s this theory that your name shapes who you become. So, if you said that my name was chosen for beauty, I would grow to become my name, so I’d be beautiful.” He nods a little at that. “Do you believe in that kind of thing?” you ask him genuinely, tilting your head and taking another bite of the corn dog.

“Clearly,” he chuckles through a mouthful of food before swallowing it. “Your name is pretty, you’re pretty. Someone has a name with a bad reputation, they become it.”

“Your mama named you Jack Daniels, you become Agent Whiskey,” you tease with a growing smile, accentuating that drawl that you’ve perfectly picked up from your father and the mustached man in front of you. “I’ve thought about that a lot with you. Did they assign you that name because of your name? My dad never talked about work with us before I became an agent.”

Whiskey shakes his head at you but does give a laugh. “Prob’ly, just thought it’d be funny, I ‘spose. They needed a new Agent Whiskey anyway, I believe. Last one died or retired, they never told me. Filling the vacancy while making a pun out of it. Your father has a sense of humor, doesn’t he? ‘S sure great at givin’ nicknames.”

You shake your head at that. “Don’t I know it. He’s been calling me Amaretto since I could give him sass back. Told me I was a little bitter, just like the word means in Italian. Julep’s too sweet, Rosé is a mix of gentle and bold. No one calls us by our real names unless we’re in trouble,” you chuckle. “You should hear my mama shout when Julep gets in trouble. She nearly shakes the house, and Julep likes to avoid it by pretending she can’t hear her. She’ll hide in her room, and my mama just shouts and shouts until the neighbors come over to make sure the family’s all still alive. It’s in a loving way, of course, nothing bad.” You shake your head, clearing the topic from yourself. “But it’s like your mama knew you’d get into something with alcohol. That’s odd.”

Jack chuckles and takes the last bite of his food. He doesn’t respond, just cleans up his little area and waits for you to be done, watching you with his chin resting in his palm. You smile as you notice that, looking away, and he does too. The two of you stand and walk along again. He offers his hand, to hold it, and you take it. You’re not entirely sure that he did that as Beau, and you’re certain you didn’t take his hand as Jolene.

Walking through the midway, you catch your mark out of the corner of your eye. “Go time,” you murmur to the man, dropping his hand. “Sir,” you ask and pat the man’s shoulder as he walks past. He stops and you shoot him a cheesy, massive grin. “Hi there, would you mind takin’ a picture for my husband and I?”

The man nods. “Sure, ma’am. Where do you-”

“Oh wonderful. Here,” you say and position the man, handing him your phone, then move back to stand by Jack. “Beau, honey, here,” you say as you position the two of you for the camera. You wrap his arm around your waist and place your hand on his chest, grinning ear to ear. He’s doing the same.

“How ‘bout this?” he asks, swooping you up and holding you bridal style.

You squeal into his ear, laughing. You almost call him by his real name but stop yourself. “Beau, quit!” You giggle and smack his chest teasingly, playing along with it and smiling for the photo. He lets you down only to pick you up again, hoisting you onto his back, piggyback style. Finding no other choice, you wrap your arms and legs around him, and he rests his hands on your thighs to hold you up. “Beau Pruitt!” You exclaim, emphasizing the words, hoping that the man taking your photos registers the name, knowing it’s not someone threatening. He’d probably take your phone and run if he heard you call the man holding you up by his real name.

He finally lets you down and you thank the man, taking the phone back and continuing to walk along, naturally lacing your fingers through Jack’s. “What was that?” you ask lowly, smiling despite the pretend annoyance in your voice.

“Playin’ the part, sugar,” he shrugs and smiles at you. As you wander through the midway, Jack’s eye catches on a brightly colored, massive teddy bear hanging from the rafters. When Jack gets a plan, he goes all in. “You know what, honey, if this is to be a proper date, I am gonna win you a teddy bear,” he chuckles, grabbing his wallet.

You quickly push the hand holding his wallet down. “Don’t be ridiculous, babe. I don’t need a teddy bear,” you laugh.

“I am takin’ you on a date to the county fair. It’s only fitting that I win you a teddy bear!” He argues back, laughing. He hands a bill to the attendant, earning him quite a few balls to toss at the stacked milk jugs. “Here we go. This is for the big, tie-dye one up there,” he declares before hurling a ball.

It hits the top jug and Jack winces. “Ah fuck. Bad shoulder,” he chuckles, picking up another.

“Then why the hell are you doing this, Beau?” you ask, catching yourself before you can call him Jack and holding down his arm. “I don’t need the teddy bear!”

“I already paid the attendant,” he chuckles and leans in to your face, taunting you. He uses your distraction to slip his arm from your grasp, throwing it and hitting the second row of bottles. “Hell yeah!” Jack crows excitedly, arms in the air. You laugh at his excitement and decide to let it happen. He throws three more balls before he knocks down the whole final row, whooping excitedly. “That one, if you please,” he tells the attendant and points to the large bear hanging from the ceiling of the booth. The attendant takes it down and hands it to him, and he promptly hands it to you, beaming. “For you, my dear,” he says, pride radiating from him.

“I love it,” you laugh and hug the massive bear to your chest, kissing its forehead. “I think I’ll name him… Whiskey.” He grins at that and takes your hand again, leading you through the crowd.

The rest of the night passes more like a date would than a mission. You and Jack converse happily, simply avoiding real names but talking like you would between friends. His hand rests in yours the whole night, and you enjoy it. The sun begins to go down and the humidity lessens, as does the stifling heat. It’s almost cool now; the both of you wear your flannels properly now, unbuttoned in the front. You munch contently on some cotton candy you finally convinced Jack to buy, even feeding him some to further your ruse. Sighing, you look around and take in the absolute perfection that is this tiny county fair. The sunset is beautiful and the lights of the carnival section are starting to come on. You start to speak until you hear a too-familiar voice through your earpiece.

“Amaretto, Whiskey. They set up shop in the pig barn, but they’re at their most vulnerable. Time to move.” You both groan as you hear your father’s voice. You look down at your interlocked hands between the two of you, then up quickly, remembering. Your father can see what you see with these glasses on. His voice comes in through your earpiece alone now. “See, I told ya it wouldn’t be so bad to spend a little time with Whiskey. I’ve noticed you’re not hating it.”

You shake your head and pull out your earpiece, tucking it in your pocket and murmuring a curse to your father. Jack notices and you simply shrug. “Wasn’t working right. You’re gonna have to relay the messages for me.”

He nods then pauses, listening. He chuckles and turns to you. “He says to put it back in, he knows you can hear him just fine.” You groan and put it back in with a frown. “Next time you want to have family dinner, count on one less plate,” you hiss through the piece, making both Jack and your father laugh. “Whatever, get us to the pig barn then.” Your father guides the two of you through your mission. They’re indeed at their weakest, just four men loading their van with their backs to you. Luckily, they’re the four that Statesman wants. You and Whiskey each easily take out two, leaving them tranquilized on the ground. “Pops, they’re good. Send in the recon van.” A few moments later, the van rushes in through the utility door, and two recon members load the men into the van. You and Whiskey give them a nod, smiling at them and thanking them before leaving the barn.

The voice comes through on just your earpiece again. “Take the rest of the night off. I know you want to.”

He’s right, you do want to, and so for once, you listen to your damn father. “The rest of the night is up to us,” you say as you turn to Whiskey, removing your earpiece and your glasses and putting them in your bag. You reach for his earpiece, taking it out too, both of you almost shivering at the contact of your wrist to his cheek as you take it out. Jack catches your palm and plants a kiss to it and you grin. “Would you like to stick around, maybe go on some rides?” you ask and put away his earpiece before sliding your hand into his. “As Whiskey and Amaretto?”

Jack grins at you. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The rest of the evening is spent on rides and eating ice cream, getting squished into Jack’s side on the Scrambler and flipped around on the Slingshot. You both laugh practically all night, overjoyed. You check your watch and look up excitedly, eyes lighting. “The fireworks are gonna go off in ten minutes.” You look at the wait for the ferris wheel- it’s about as long. “Let’s go on the ferris wheel to watch it.”

Jack nods. “Whatever you say, sugar,” he nods, lagging for a moment as you start to run to the next ride, then catching up and pulling you into his chest, kissing your head. You laugh at the feeling of being trapped in his arms and wrap your arms around him too, allowing the bear hug to last a moment longer than it should.

The both of you wait in line for a few minutes, continuing the conversation you’d been having before.

The line eventually shortens enough for the two of you to get on, and you sit, hands on the lap bar. Whiskey sits next to you, draping his arm across your shoulders. You look up at him and smile, scooting into his side. You give a little whoop of excitement as the ride starts moving, and you jump at a loud bang.

You timed it perfectly.

The sky lights with different colors, a variety of fireworks lighting off and illuminating the dark night sky. The stars are clear all the way out here, in the middle of Alabama, and you beam at the image. You pull out your phone to snap some pictures but Jack holds your hand down. “The pictures never do it justice, darlin’. Just look up at those and remember ‘em real hard.” Laughing softly, you rest your head on Jack’s shoulder as you watch. It’s stunning, absolutely gorgeous, and you look at Jack for a moment to find he’s not watching the sky, but has his eyes trained on your face, watching your reaction.

The moment is perfect. He can handle the rejection, he decides, if he has to, but he has to move now. “Can I kiss you, Amaretto?” He murmurs quietly, his face already moving close to yours. You give an answer in the form of a gesture: taking his face in your hands and closing the gap. The kiss is perfect, his soft lips tasting of the cotton candy you finally persuaded him to buy a few hours ago.

He sighs softly, his hand finding the side of your face as well. He breaks away for a moment and looks at your lovely face, grinning at the way your eyes reflect only his face, the dark night sky, and the colorful fireworks. “I think your pops named you wrong. Furthest thing from bitter. You’re the sweetest, most perfect thing I ever did taste,” he drawls before closing the space again, pressing his lips to yours. Your heart pounds in time with the bursts in the sky, erratic and loud, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re finally kissing the man you’ve been crushing on since the moment your father introduced you to the Statesman.

A particularly loud firework startles you and you jump, breaking your kiss and grinning at him, the adrenaline from both the scare and the kiss pounding its way through your body. You look at him and want to say something but can’t find the words. You simply giggle and look into his eyes, making him laugh too. You sit there for a moment, laughing, while the ferris wheel stays stationary. As it moves, you cling to his chest again, looking up and beaming at him. “Kiss me again, cowboy,” you demand, and he chuckles.

“Any time, sugar,” he says with a smile as he takes your chin in his hand and kisses you again.

#agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #agent jack daniels x reader #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #agent jack whiskey daniels x reader #agent jack whiskey daniels #kingsman: the golden circle #agent jack daniels #pedro pascal fanfiction #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #i am a simp #agent whiskey

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candychronicles · 3 years

Text

bodyguard // s. todoroki

A/N: my take on the rockstar/band/performer au for bnharem! i’m not a big fan of au’s normally but this one was a lot of fun to write! todoroki is definitely ooc in this one but i took a lot of liberties with his character in order to better fit the au storyline.

CHARACTER PAIRING: Todoroki Shouto x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,091

WARNINGS: mentions of blood, gore, fighting, death, oral sex (f!receiving)

SYNOPSIS: you were in it for the money, he was an unhinged popstar. how could you two ever possibly get along?

want to read more rocking stories? click HERE !

the days at work were tiring, the nights even longer, but the pay was good and it was always satisfying to make a grown man cry as you knocked him to his knees and manhandled him away from your client.

Todoroki Shouto, one of the elite, the famed, the rich, and absolutely fucking annoying. sure, he was hot (anyone with an eye could see that) but he was just like everyone else in his industry: a cocky bastard. you didn’t mind his lifestyle too much except when it interfered with his job, like having to pry off whiny people who clung to him like their life depended on it, and for some, it probably did.

his biggest claim to fame was being in a now wildly famous band, namely the main singer. he was charming with a sultry voice and a personality that oozed confidence but he wasn’t always that way. in fact, he was originally a shy, anxiety ridden teen when he first joined, not sure how to use his voice or deal with people coming up to him in the streets. the life he lived was sheltered before that, training under his dad to take over the family business, but when sweet, innocent Todoroki confessed that he much rather be artsy and sing at the age of sixteen, things quickly changed for him. his father, Todoroki Enji, tried to convince him otherwise, told him that he didn’t know how the real world worked and that he would never be successful, but Shouto wouldn’t budge and eventually Enji caved in, or so it seemed.

Enji immediately enrolled Shouto in lessons, instructing him to shape up or ship out. if he couldn’t become successful in the industry, he would take over his father’s business instead, but that didn’t happen. Shouto excelled in lessons, blowing his instructors away with his timbre and control. he was a natural, and frankly, good enough to be a star. they weren’t so concerned with his stoic yet endearing personality. they had broken enough pop stars, molded them to be perfect model citizens, so what was one more?

the plan backfired immensely. as Shouto’s talent grew, Enji seeked out the biggest in the game, convincing them to give his son a chance at stardom. while reluctant, the board agreed, not wanting to piss off one of the most powerful men in Japan but were thoroughly surprised at the fact that his kid didn’t suck at all. in fact, he was actually good, really, really good.

they signed him immediately, whisking him away into the life of fame and fortune at the young age of seventeen. his range, the slight rasp to his tone and the ability to reach into somebody's soul and pluck the very feelings they try to hide so deeply from it’s depths pushed him towards the life of a rockstar. the freedom he had never been able to experience living at home pushed him over the edge and spiraled him out of control.

Todoroki drank, smoked, and fucked his way through cities big and small, getting himself into a lot of trouble along the way. the behavior went on for years, only getting worse as time went on. nobody seemed to be able to get control over the boy with the pretty hair and wild scar. after almost killing several women and one of his bandmates in a drunk driving accident, his team, label, and most importantly his father had enough.

the conversation between the two did not go well. Shouto was now an adult, legally free and clear from his father’s power. he had his own money, enough to live comfortably for awhile, even if he dropped the band, and all of the repressed rage, longing and anger that was pent up from his childhood. he was not stopping his lifestyle for anyone. that was, until you came along.

you were always a scrapper, getting yourself in trouble more times than you could count. it was just in your nature to defend those who couldn’t defend themselves and you spent many days on the playground beating up the bullies who picked on the sweet girl braiding flowers into her hair, or the boy who liked to play with baby dolls instead of trucks.

as you got older, your fights got fewer and farther in between, at least when it came to the public.

when you turned sixteen and kicked some kid who was trying to look up your skirt so hard in the chin that he saw stars, you were approached by a few men who slid you a card and told you if you wanted to make money fighting, come meet them.

you were a dumb kid and instead of running in the opposite direction and telling the police, you showed up at the seemingly dingy door behind the alley of a fairly run down ramen restaurant. knocking on the door and rocking back on your heels, you waited to see what would happen. it took a few seconds before a panel slid open, allowing you to see nothing but someone’s eyes peering at you in the mid-afternoon sun. hesitantly, you raised the business card in your hand, showing it to the person and jumping in surprise as the panel slammed shut and the door creaked open, inviting you in.

you nodded your head politely at who you realized was a rather bulky, burly man, before a woman dressed in a silky black dress plucked the card delicately from your hand and led you through the hallway. when she opened the door, you were taken aback by the scene.

people of all shapes and sizes stood cheering as two rather muscular men fought in an arena across the room. spit and blood flew across the floor as the two pummeled each other over and over again before one tapped out, the other man raising his fist in the air in victory. you stood, gaze fixed on the scene in front of you, blood racing at the thought of you being in the ring.

“addicting, isn’t it?” the woman whispered in your ear, a knowing smile on her face before she gently took you by the sleeve and guided you away from the screams and shouts into a private room that was much quieter.

you sat down in front of a man who was rather tall and thin, graying hair across his head and a clean shaven face.

“so, i heard you’re a good fighter. how good do you think you are?”

“uh-” you stuttered, not sure how to respond, “i think i can kick someone’s ass if i have a reason to.”

“is money a good enough reason for you?”

“money is a nice reward, yeah, yeah it is,” you confirmed, not pondering the question over for a second.

“good, you start on Saturday. come in comfy clothes that you won’t mind getting sweaty and dirty in. you’re my new ace, a secret weapon. give it six months time and you’ll be defeating guys like that out there in seconds.”

and defeat you did. over and over again, men, women, anyone who thought they were better than you were defeated by your own fists. you worked hard and then some, through literal sweat, blood and tears, to reach the status of champion of the underworld by the age of eighteen.

you were a wild card, unpredictable in your stature. you didn’t have hulking muscles and a sturdy frame, but what you did have was speed, the element of surprise, and the ability to calculate in a split second, all of which allowed you to defeat your enemies time and time again. this relative victory didn’t come without your share of sacrifices: hiding the bruises, blackened eyes and bloody lips from your family as you trained relentlessly, having to figure out a way to manage the steady flow of income that started coming your way as you fought in your first official matches, defeat after defeat as you trained, chipping a tooth and having it promptly filled in like nothing happened, having to learn how to disarm and fire a gun, work with knives and most importantly, losing a bit of your empathy along the way.

it came as no surprise when people who were much more powerful and much, much richer started taking an interest in you, placing large bets upon your head at some of the higher staked matches, a feat you worked your way up to after many years. you never failed to disappoint, knowing that these fights were the ones that mattered the most, the ones that brought you, and your boss, the biggest pools of money.

it was at one of these fights on a dreary, rainy night that you met Todoroki Enji, a hulking man that failed to intimidate you. you were used to people his size and bigger thinking he could take advantage of someone like you and it only made you chuckle thinking of how easy it would be to have him on his knees in seconds.

“i’ve made a proposal to your boss that he couldn’t refuse. he said he couldn’t and wouldn’t force you to do anything, but since you’re quite motivated by money, i think you’ll be intrigued by my offer,” he started, sitting down next to you in one of the VIP booths, sliding his business card on the table with a sly smile.

you were interested and entertained him, listening to him ramble about his shitty kid and his bad behavior. amused, you sipped on your drink as you absorbed his rants and whines about the negative reputation his kid was creating for himself, how he abused his freedom and power to the fullest extent and how his life was spiraling out of control.

“what does this have to do with me, exactly?” you finally questioned, setting your drink down and turning to face him, eyes met squarely with his own.

“i’d like to hire you to be his personal bodyguard.”

“sounds like he needs a babysitter, not a bodyguard,” you retorted, getting ready to stand up and move away from this blathering idiot.

when he spit out a number so outrageous, however, you sat back down, now thoroughly intrigued by the situation at hand. satisfied that he had your full attention, he went into details, laying down a fairly thin stack of papers in front of you as you listened to every detail.

“so let me get this straight. i’m to be his personal bodyguard, keep his shitty behavior a little more under control, whip him up into shape sort of situation. that’s it? and i’ll get paid that much for being a glorified babysitter?”

“you will have to protect him, of course. there are some crazy fans out there that climb windows, seduce themselves into his bed, stalk him, chase him down, but i don’t think it’s anything that, with your expertise, you can’t handle.”

you continued to ponder the situation before gesturing him to continue with his story. he rambled for another moment or two before picking up the papers and going over them with you: standard non-disclosure agreements, a detailed list of your job description and a contract agreement that he was subleasing you through your boss.

after a few minutes of reading the contracts over and discussing them with your boss, you agreed to the scenario, locking yourself into what would be a rather entertaining six months.

the first time you met Todoroki, he instantly tried to hit on you, but when his hand lowered down to grab your ass, you had him on his knees with his left hand behind his back before he could even blink. after that encounter, your conversations were curt. he knew what you were here for and he wasn’t about to let you get his way.

what he wasn’t expecting was for you to be so relaxed about the whole situation. he still drank, still partied, fucked almost whatever girl or guy he wanted, but anytime things got too out of hand, you stepped in, firm but gentle, guiding the crying groupies out of his bedroom after their time was over, driving him every time he got too drunk, cutting him off from any supplies when he was getting out of hand and most importantly, keeping him safe during his travels.

he never realized how much danger he was always in until you mitigated the problems with ease. he just assumed that being assaulted on the daily was something that came with being in the public until you broke some robbers finger when they tried to swipe the wallet out of his own back pocket. after that, he almost clung to you like a koala on a tree anytime he was out in public. you provided stability in a time where he was drowning in his own worries.

that didn’t mean he was ever nice to you though. in reality, he was actually sometimes meaner to you, the simple fact that some girl could be stronger than him set him off, always feeling on edge around you. you weren’t necessarily quiet, offering up any and all small bits and pieces about yourself that he ever wanted to know, but he never really knew you: not your last name, where you were from, if you had any siblings, parents, where you went to school, what your job was, who you were on the inside. it bugged him like crazy to know what your favorite color was and that you liked cheese on your ramen but not anything important, anything he wanted to know.

you liked to keep it that way, however, and would stay as friendly yet aloof as possible. this was a job to you, a job that would set you up easy for awhile and gave you a break from fighting for the most part. you wouldn’t admit to yourself that you liked the man more than you would’ve expected. you felt the way he clung to you as fans swarmed him, the way he always looked to you in reassurance as you walked the streets at night, hearing his sobs in the shower, sobs that were so broken and confused. it showed to you a side of him that was vulnerable, that showed emotion.

he broke down towards the end of your stay, realizing a little too late how much easier it was for you to do your job when he was cooperative and nice. in fact, he began to be more open about enjoying your company and spending time with you. it made it harder for you to continue with your job knowing you were falling for the pretty rich boy, for the man you were hired to protect, for the man who looked at you like you could do no wrong but vehemently would deny it. you began enjoying the little moments with him, the stolen glances, the laughing. you didn’t know what changed in him but you were glad he was someone you could get along with. underneath that crazy exterior, he was just a guy who wanted a friend.

your six months came up relatively quickly. it sucked that your cushy job living in five star hotels, eating decadent meals and working out in state of the art facilities would be over soon but you felt yourself getting lazy, weak and losing your rather sharp edge. it was time to get back into the grind and despite your heart panging at the fact that you would leave the pretty boy with the angry and sad heart behind, you were ready to go.

your last night of work consisted of the final show in Tokyo. tens of thousands of guests were set to attend what would be the bands biggest concert ever. you were calm, cool and collected as always, but the singer, not so much.

he spent the day pacing back and forth, warming up his vocals, hydrating himself, stretching and generally doing his best to calm his nerves.

in a rare act of affection, you reached out to grab your hand with his own, looking him dead in the eye and telling him that this night would be one he would remember forever; and you were right, just not for the way either of you thought.

the show went amazing, the crowd loud and receptive, the choreography flawless, the singing perfect. Todoroki ran off stage with the biggest smile he had ever seen and in his own rare display of affection, twirled you around with ease, adrenaline still pumping through his system.

you congratulated him on the great show and waited patiently for him to remove all the makeup and his costume. he emerged a little while later, hair flat against his head, wet from the shower, sweatpants and an inconspicuous gray hoodie donning his body. you bid a pleasant farewell to his bandmates before escorting him back to the car. he had requested that you drive him back to the hotel and spend one final night in the comfortable hotel beds before you headed back to your hometown.

when you arrived, however, things felt quiet, a little too quiet, and the hair stood up on the back of your neck.

“Shouto, you need to get into the driver’s seat right now, turn on the car and lock it. do not let me in until i tell you to. do not get out of the car, okay?”

he began to question you but before he had a chance to argue, you were pushing him out of the way as a knife sliced towards him, figures cloaked in black emerging from the shadows.

one, two, three, four.

you counted out the four assailants as you shoved Shouto against the car, prompting him to unlock and scramble in through the back seat. only when you heard the click of the lock did you breathe a sigh of relief and begin your attack.

the first man with the knife was tall and lanky, using his height to his advantage, trying to overwhelm you, but with a quick kick to the back of his kneecaps, he went tumbling onto his knees. now shorter than you, you were able to control him by grabbing onto the top of his head and slamming it into the ground, effectively knocking him out.

one, two, three.

the next man thought his muscles would save the day, but his size lacked any true speed, and you were able to land fingers to his eyes, a punch square to his nose. a quick chokehold and he was knocked out against the concrete as well.

one, two.

they both came at once, knives flailing in the air as they sliced your way. one managed to gouge out a chunk of flesh in your arm but you paid no mind, too focused on the task at hand as you grabbed the knife with your hand and used the other arm to knock into their elbow, making them loosen their grip enough to let go of the blade that you then embedded into their shoulder. the other assailant took your distraction to swing the knife your way and as you were trying to dodge the serrated edge, used their other fist to swing up into your chin. you felt your teeth chatter against each other, blood mixing with saliva as you bit your tongue. spitting, you slammed your hand down against their wrist, grabbing the knife with your hand and yanking, not caring that it sliced into your palm as you flipped the weapon around to shove it into their abdomen.

with both men distracted, you slammed your fist against the car door, telling Shouto to quickly unlock it so you could get in. when you heard the telltale click, you instantly dove into the backseat, yelling at him to lock it and drive as fast as he could back to the hotel. he did as he was told with an eerie calmness to him, backing out and around the attackers that were attempting to survey the damage that had been dealt to them.

once you had made the relatively quick trip back to the hotel, you hurriedly jumped out of the car, telling Shouto to carry his own bags so you could be on alert if anything were to happen, scanning each and every corner for a possible other attack. thankfully, everything was safe as you made your way into his hotel room.

you dropped him off quietly, not even attempting to walk into his room, but only fifteen minutes had passed before he was knocking on your door, a first aid kit he had gotten from the front desk securely tucked under his arm.

you let him in without a word, locking the door behind you and turning to face him. before you had a chance to ask what he was doing there, he had dragged you into your rather grandiose bathroom, sitting you on the steps leading up to the jacuzzi tub and pulling out the contents of the kit onto the floor.

he began by assessing the damage to your wounds, cleaning and disinfecting them before wrapping both your hand and arm rather efficiently.

“i had to wrap a lot of my own wounds as well as my siblings. dear old dad let the temper get the best of him sometimes and it wasn’t always so pretty,” he explained, teeth clenching together in an attempt to remain calm.

“thanks for this. i’m sure they’ll heal just fine,” you replied, not wanting to put him in a situation where he had to talk about his troubling past.

“you could’ve died protecting me today, you know?”

“that’s my job Todoroki. i was hired to protect you, i protected you, and i’m fine, thank you very much. this is not my first fight and it definitely won’t be my last.”

he sighed, rubbing his temples as he sat down on the marble floor in front of you, holding your wounded hand in his own, tracing the fabric that surrounded your palm.

“i recognized one of the cars in the parking lot. it was a company car, one of my dad’s cars to be precise. i know they can seem relatively inconspicuous but i memorized every car my dad ever had, big or small. it was definitely his car.”

you mulled over his words for a moment before sighing yourself, slumping against the stairs as your head rested against the rim of the tub.

“your dad sent those men, huh? that’s why you were so eerily calm driving away. you knew you weren’t really in any danger, that those men were secretly there to kill me,” you finally concluded, anger boiling deep within the pit of your stomach.

“yeah, i think they were. i don’t think dad is too fond of the fact that you and i got close. i-i like you a lot more than i let on, i’ve told him so. i thought that would make him happy, knowing i have someone in my life that i could rely on and trust, but he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t control you after these six months were up, think he wanted to teach me a lesson.”

“wouldn’t be the first time i’ve had a hit out on my head. this one, however, is probably going to be a lot tricker to deal with.”

Shouto sunk deeper into himself, body shaking with rage as he saw the fight flash in his head over and over again.

“i’m going to protect you. if you want to, that is. i’ll sign you on as my own bodyguard, however much money you want. i’ll be by your side always, make sure that nobody tries to kill you, tries to hurt you like that again.”

“i can fend for myself Todoroki.”

“it’s Shouto. and why won’t you let anyone else take care of you? listen, i know i’ve been kind of an ass but i thought we were at least friends, and yet i know nothing about you. i know your favorite color, your favorite animal, that you like sunsets and the rain and snuggling under comfy sheets at the end of the day, that your eyes sparkle when you get a chance to fight but secretly crave peace and comfort, but i don’t know who you are. your name, your story, why you’re really here.”

you heaved as you sat back up, staring him straight in the eye to find no malice, no anger, only confusion, empathy and maybe even a bit of longing. so you told him, you told him everything: who you were, what you were, where you grew up, about your childhood dog and all the scraps you had as a kid, how two strange men in suits approached you and groomed you to fight at the age of sixteen, how it was the only thing you knew how to do, the only thing you were good at, how you scared yourself sometimes because you enjoyed the pain that came with the fights. he sat there watching, eyes wide and unblinking as he absorbed every word you said, every bit of pain and anxiety, of longing for someone to love and understand you, of not having to fight all the time, of wanting to be vulnerable for once.

“let me take care of you,” he declared, standing up and outstretching his hand towards you, helping you up from the cool tile, hand coming to rest behind your head once you had steadied yourself.

he leaned forward, unsure and hesitant, before placing his lips against your own, soft and gentle, tasting of mint chapstick and coffee. you were unsure of yourself, awkward, full of aches and pains, wanting so badly to let go but never wanting to get hurt.

“it’s okay, you’re safe with me. let me take care of you, please.”

that was all it took for you to open up, looping your arms around his neck as he led you back to the bedroom, careful to not run you into anything. your knees hit the back of the bed and you reflexively tensed up, like a deer in headlights.

he shushed you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, heeding the bandage and wound underneath. you laid back after that, body attempting to relax as his hands ran themselves soothingly over your body, across your breasts, the flesh of your stomach, your thighs, the corded muscles in your calves, slipping your shoes off, your socks, kissing every inch of your body along the way, making sure you were comfortable. you shimmied out of your pants, your tight shirt, bra, underwear, finally bare for him to see, scars, bruises, all the imperfections of your life.

“so, so beautiful,” he murmured, taking his time to kiss every single blemish and scar that you had, wanting you to feel his dedication.

after what felt like hours of soft kisses, his thumb came to rest on your clit, rubbing in quick and precise circles, fingers gently parting your folds to press into your body, back arching at the feeling of him already.

“it’s all about you tonight, okay? just relax, let me show you how much i appreciate you.”

and appreciate you he did. he dropped to his knees, nose nuzzling into your pubic bone as he kitten licked your clit once, twice, three times, testing your reaction. you whined and squirmed at the feeling, already overwhelmed by his fingers lazily dragging in and out of you. you wanted, needed more, but Todoroki wouldn’t hear any of that. you deserved to be treated right, treated gently tonight, to allow your worries to melt away, if only for a few moments.

his fingers began picking up pace, pistoning in and out of you, his fingers curling in all the right spots, fists clenched into the downy comforter as you attempted to ground yourself from the overwhelming situation. his tongue worked against your clit, changing speed and pressure, trying to find what was the right combination to set you off, watching your every move intently as you squirmed around on the bed. before he even got a chance to get into a routine, you were already cumming over his fingers, creamy liquid coating the digits.

he hummed in contentment, pulling his fingers out to lick up the syrup, you watching with your pupils blown wide.

you went to sit up, body aching from the adrenaline of the fight, but he pushed you back down into the plush bed, tutting as he settled his head against your thigh, kissing, sucking and biting along the plump flesh, leaving little marks only he would know about.

his tongue began lapping at your clit again, this time harsher, more in tune with what your body wanted. you clenched your legs around his head, fisting his hair with your good hand as you tried to ground yourself yet again to reality. his velvety tongue felt like heaven against your body, coaxing moans and sighs out of your mouth. you felt your second orgasm hit you like a freight truck, tingles running up your spine. you tried to push his head away but he only held your body down, a frighteningly feral look on his face as he continued to lap against your clit, unrelenting in his pursuit to pull orgasm after orgasm from you.

after, two, three, four more highs, you couldn’t tell where one began and one ended, he was finally satisfied, pulling his face away, chin glistening in the dim light. your eyes were teary and red, overwhelmed by everything he had put you through. you had never been more satisfied in your life, and by the look on Shouto’s face, he knew it too.

your eyelids began to droop and your body relaxed into the mattress as you came back down into reality. Shouto shuffled around the room before settling you into your bed, tucking the sheets around your body and propping your head against your pillow.

he was enamored by your, by your story, how you opened up so willingly to him after tonight. nothing would get in between you two now. he was just starting to truly know you, know the real you, and nothing was going to stop him from wooing you until you were his, not even his father., and if her life was ever threatened again by him, well, Shouto would just have to kill Todoroki Enji.

#todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki #shouto todoroki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha #bnharem collab

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