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ilovepedro · 7 months

Text

just married | frankie morales x f!reader

Main masterlist

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~2k

Summary: You and Frankie just tied the knot. Half way through the reception, your insatiable husband whisks you away for some much needed privacy.

Warnings: fluff, oral (f receiving), fingering, exhibitionism (sex in a private bathroom), unprotected PIV (wrap it up y’all), creampie, reader is female, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N.

A/N: happy frankie friday! this is based off this post, i could not for the life of me shake this from my head. literally wrote this in an hour, i’m telling y’all i’m actually going insane. the brain rot is actually concerning. FRANKIE NATION RISE! 🫡 anyway, i hope y’all enjoy! 🫶🏼 i loveeee me some frankie 🫠 not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. 🏃‍♀️

Divider by @saradika

“Come on, hermosa,” Frankie rasps in your ear, moving his hands from your hips and grabbing your hand, a small smirk playing on his lips. Music booms from the DJ’s speakers, the dance floor lively and vibrant.

“Where are we going, baby?” You ask, your gown flowing freely as your new husband swiftly maneuvers you through the crowd. “You’ll see,” he shouts over the thrumming music. Your body buzzing with excitement and a smile, so big it hurts, adorns your face.

Leading you out into the hall and racing up the stairs, giggling like a couple of school children. Frankie drags you to the bathroom at the end of the hall, flinging the door open and guiding you inside.

He grips your hips and crashes his lips onto yours, swallowing your dissipating giggles as he presses you up against the door and locks it. You whimper softly as his hands begin to roam your body.

His hands roam your backside, making his way down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “Frankie!” You squeal, breathlessly, laughter bubbling over your lips as you pull back for a bit of air.

A toothy grin breaks out into his face. “I’ve missed you, hermosa,” he pants, the both of you breathless from running and desperately kissing each other.

“I’ve missed you too, baby.” Not having had a moment to yourselves this whole day, you two bask in this brief moment of privacy.

He brings you in for another insatiable kiss. Your hands tug at the hair at the nape of his neck, making him groan into you. Snaking his hands down your waist, he cups your mound in one hand. You moan into him as your brows scrunch in pleasure, grinding against his hand.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day, baby,” he groans, guiding you to the sink, pressing your backside up against it as he peppers kisses to the column of your throat. “You look so fucking gorgeous, baby, this goddamn dress is driving me crazy,” he whispers, nipping your neck.

“You’re driving me crazy, Frankie,” you gasp. “Look so fucking sexy in that tux, baby.” He smiles into your skin, working his way back up to draw you in for another kiss. You moan into his mouth as he slips his tongue inside, arousal pooling in your panties and sticking to your sex. Swallowing every moan that pours into his mouth, he pulls back, your lipgloss staining his lips.

Crouching to his knees, he bunches your gown up over his head and moans at the sight of your lacy panties paired with your garter.

“Fuck, baby. So fucking wet for me all fucking the time,” he whispers huskily as his large, warm hands run along your thighs. He slides your garter down your leg, tucking it into his back pocket.

Propping you up onto the sink, he spreads your legs and presses a kiss to your sex. You moan at the feeling, aching for more. One of his thick fingers prods at your entrance, parting your lips and allowing your husband a view of your glistening pussy.

“Please, Frankie,” you plead breathlessly, tossing your head back.

“Yeah? My pretty little wife wants me to eat her pussy? Huh, mi esposa?” You moan, eagerly nodding as you clench around nothing. Frankie doesn’t miss the way your thighs squeeze together.

“What my wife wants, my wife gets.”

Without warning, Frankie dives in and licks broad stripes up your folds, gasping as you bite back a moan with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, attempting to be quiet.

“No no, baby. I wanna hear you. They can’t even hear us with the music, it’s just us, baby - just me and you,” he says before diving back in and licking through your folds, his strong nose nudging your clit and your eyes flying open.

“Oh fuck, Frankie!” You moan loudly, eyes squeezed shut as you toss your head back, caution blown to the wind. You snake a hand into Frankie’s curls, tugging at them and eliciting a groan from your husband. The vibrations against your cunt send a new wave of arousal seeping from you, Frankie lapping up every drop as he drowns in your slick.

His tongue prods your entrance, fucking into you. He groans at the way you clench around him, chest rumbling in satisfaction.

It’s sloppy, and hungry the way he laves at your weeping cunt. His tongue circles your clit relentlessly, your cries filling the air. His lips wrap around your swollen bud as his grip on your thighs tightens. Your hips involuntarily buck up into his face. He snakes his left hand up to your stomach, ring-adorned hand pushing you down and holding you in place.

“So f-fucking good, F-Frankie, oh my god,” you keen above him, legs wrapping around his back as you try to brace yourself for your impending orgasm. His relentless pace creates a cloud of stars in your eyes.

“I’m close, Frankie! So close, don’t stop! Please don’t stop, baby,” you yelp, tears of pleasure stinging the corners of your eyes as the coil in your belly tightens.

A sudden intrusion pulls a sharp gasp from you. Two of his thick, long fingers crook into that spongy spot with every stroke as he sucks on your clit.

His fingers, his mouth, the ring on the hand which pins you down overwhelms you - he’s all-consuming.

Your vision flashes hot white as the coil in your belly snaps, cumming all over your husband’s face and his fingers. Frankie laps at your juices as you grind your cunt into his face, thighs trembling while riding out your high. He groans as he slurps you up like the sweetest nectar, not wasting a single drop. Your whines fill the air along with a squelching sound as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you.

He pulls back and rises to his feet, his patchy beard glistening with your slick. Slamming his lips onto yours, the two of you moan into each other. The taste of yourself on his tongue makes your head spin.

Frankie ruts his hips into yours, his clothed cock brushing against your exposed cunt and a loud cry pouring from your lips at the sensitivity. Wrapping your arms around his neck to draw him closer, you buck your hips against his, seeking more stimulation.

“Lean back for me, baby.” he rasps as he pulls back, gently pushing you back against the mirror. He makes quick work unbuckling his belt and shoving his pants to his ankles. You suck your bottom lip in between your teeth, mouth watering at the sight of your husband’s angry, leaking cock. Unable to resist, you palm him in your hands, smearing the dribbles of precum along his throbbing length. Frankie stifles a moan, moving your hand away and lines up his cock at your dripping hole.

Swirling small circles around your entrance, gathering the new wave slick that pours from your cunt on his length.

“Frankieeee,” you keen. “No teasing, please, amor,” you huff, on the verge of tears as your desperation grows.

“I got you, amor, don’t worry,” he whispers in your ear. He slides in slowly, but smoothly in one go, your slippery folds allowing him easy access. Both of you moan in tandem, Frankie’s brows pinched together and your lips parted.

You’re so full, relishing in the dull sting as he stuffs your wet heat to the brim. “Move, baby. Please move, mi amor,” you plead, breathless and desperate, seeking some relief.

“Shh shh, it’s okay, baby. I’m gonna take care of you, I always will,” He says, voice hushed and husky, placing a kiss to your forehead.

You know his words run deeper than just the matter at hand, having promised to love you eternally just hours ago.

He slowly drags out of you ever so slightly before snapping his hips into yours, his tip punching your g-spot. His hands rest on your waist as he picks up his pace. The room sounds pornographic - filled with the sounds of your squelching pussy, skin-on-skin, moans, and pants.

“I’m the lu-luckiest man ever. Got the prettiest girl ever to m-marry me. Knew you’d make a beautiful bride, hermosa. Most beautiful f-fuckin’ bride in the world, my pretty little wife. Get to, shit, get to love you and fuck this tight little pussy every goddamn day for the rest of our lives. Fuck,” he rambles, hips canting into yours.

Clenching around him at his words, more slick drips from your weeping cunt and onto the counter. An endless string of moans tumble from you and into the air.

“S-so fucking good to m-me, baby. So l-lucky to be your wife,” you keen, pressing your forehead against his. He hungrily captures your lips in a ferocious kiss, teeth clashing together as neither of you care how messy you two will look after.

“My wife. You’re mine, baby, you’re mine forever,” he moans as his tip kisses your cervix. Your walls flutter around him, your second orgasm rapidly approaching.

“Come on, baby, come on, baby. Let go, hermosa. I know you’re close. Let me feel you, I got you, baby,” he babbles almost incoherently. You wail as your orgasm washes over you, convulsing under his grasp, twitching uncontrollably as slick endlessly streams from your cunt. “There we go, baby. Good girl. So fucking good, hermosa. Always feel so fucking good,” Frankie groans against your lips, his thrust growing sloppy as your slippery cunt sucks him in.

“Love you so much, Frankie,” you gasp. “Love you too, hermosa,” he grunts. You can feel him throb inside of you.

“Cum, Frankie. Fill me up, please, baby,” you beg, still riding out the high of your climax.

“Yeah baby? Want my cum? Want me to stuff you full and walk around our wedding with my cum dripping out of your tight little pussy?"

A high-pitched moan escaping your lips, you squeeze tightly around him. “Yes, Frankie! Wanna feel it dripping down my legs under my dress,” you squeal, overstimulation starting to sink in.

"My dirty fucking girl,” he rasps, punctuating his words with every thrust as he shoots warm ropes of cum into your cunt, coating your walls with his seed. A guttural groan rumbles from deep within his chest. Slowing his pace, you whimper as he fucks his cum into your used hole.

He rests his clammy forehead against yours, breath fanning each other's faces. Post-coital bliss settling amongst you two, the faint humming of the music from the reception rings in the air.

“Do you think they’ve noticed we’re gone?” You ask, panting. A deep chuckle rattles his chest, making you laugh. “I’m pretty sure they have, hermosa.” You pull him in by his tie, kissing him languidly. He pulls back and presses a playful tap to your thigh.

“Come on, baby. Let’s go before the guys start talking shit,” he says, helping you to your feet, and wiping his spend from your mound and in between your legs. He settles your gown into place as you fix your makeup in the mirror. He fixes his hair while you adjust his suit and tie back into place. You beam as you lock eyes with his, love shimmering in the corners of them. He entwines his fingers with yours as he leads you out the door and back downstairs to the reception.

It seems nobody has noticed you two were gone, or just don’t question your absence, as you two mingle your way back into the crowd.

“Hey! Where the hell were you two?! It’s time for the bouquet toss!" You best friend, and maid-of-honor, screeches.

"And the garter toss!” Santiago, the best man, chimes in. They drag you both to the dance floor. Women crowd the dance floor as you toss your bouquet over your shoulder, your best friend catching it and eyeing her partner.

Music blares as Frankie leads you to a chair in the middle of the dance floor. He teasingly lifts your dress to remove your garter, to be met with nothing. Your eyes bug out of your head, heat coursing through your veins.

“Where’s my garter?” You ask him. Santiago appears behind Frankie, taking something out of his back pocket and holding it out to Frankie. “Here it is!”

Laughter erupts amongst your guests as you hide your face in your hands, an embarrassed smile plastered on Frankie’s lips, meekly waving to the crowd. He pries your hands from your face, playfully rolling his eyes as he brushes off the embarrassment while helping you to your feet. Cheering and whooping fills the hall as you smile apologetically to the crowd as they roar, Frankie cupping your face and pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

Frankie is rotting my brain today obvi. this one's for all my Frankie girlies out there, shout out to y’all 🩷

thank you for reading! 🫶🏼

tag list: @undrthelights @gracieheartspedro @jenispunk @amanitacowboy @bastardmandennis @nostalxgic @tinygarbage @party-hearses @mandoisapunk @harriedandharassed

#happy frankie friday #frankie morales #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales

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softboo · 2 months

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love me, ever so gently

pairing: austin butler x reader

summary: you recently moved to a new apartment, making new some eccentric friends along the way. but what you didn't expect was falling in love with a stranger. a stranger you somehow couldn't stop thinking about

words: 2.1k

warnings: depictions of domestic abuse, dark themes of relationships

author's note: i made this on an extremely impulsive whim and i have never been so terrified of posting this. my anxiety of trying to make this story went from writing this for three days straight to now suddenly having multiple parts. i'm literally almost done with part III so we'll see how far this goes. hopefully you like my very first fic... i haven't written in years... ehh... and thank you in advance for reading this :3

next part

part I

"you're either incredibly talented or horribly lousy."

george stated right before you tore down the stack of books from the pile. you groaned in frustration, ignoring that thing buried right under the surface of your heart. if bookstores and libraries could make something aesthetically pleasing, then so could you. just like you were able to do a year ago.

you huffed once more before starting the process over again.

george took your silence as a precautionary warning, tentatively placing a small cup of coffee next to you, hoping maybe a little space and some caffeine couldn't hurt your pride more than he did.

"as long as you don't make a mess, it makes my job a thousand times easier," he offered you a toothy, yet slightly lopsided grin before leaving you to your uncomplicated complicated endeavors.

george circled around the remaining tables that were also still being set up for the fair at the community center. you were a regular volunteer for these events, moreso because your neighbors invited you to them in the first place. one of your neighbors being george, who hobbled right back to where you were, smiling proudly at his empty tray.

"well, my services are done."

he flashed another innocent grin before leaving you be, "make sure you get that done before cass sees you!"

"george I'm going to throw this empty tray at you."

he let out a belly laugh, even though he was as thick as a twig. he pulled you over to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

"there she is!"

you rolled your eyes at him, but couldn't help a smile. you still remember when you met him for the first time.

~ ~

your first week at the new apartment building was stressful enough, splitting your belongings in each individualized box and suitcase. and somehow through all that stress, someone as joyous as george just so happened to crash right into you with all of his groceries.

and he had this distinct smell, something between a book you haven't opened in years and an old worn out knitted sweater. at the time, he greeted you like you've been friends for years, something you deeply missed when you moved away from your hometown. from everyone.

"welcome to the neighborhood!!" he screamed in your ear, forgetting his hearing aids before he left for the store. you let out a polite, yet awkward, kind of laugh, thanking him for his very enthusiastic greeting. it's funny to look back on it now, a stranger you would've never imagined becoming friends with. including everyone else you met along the way.

~ ~

evelyn and cassandra peered from the hallway behind you, coming from the kitchen. cassandra with her big box of jewelry for her stand, while evelyn followed suit.

"did george call me cass again? i hate when he calls me cass. it sounds like ass."

"because you are an ass."

cassandra shot him a quick glaring look before he started laughing again, placing her boxes down. she pointed a shaky finger at him.

"you know one of these days, i really hope i end up dying before you. i can't stand that laugh of yours." she grumbled, which made you laugh.

"can't keep a happy man down cass. you're stuck with me forever," he bellowed, leaving a messy kiss on her cheek before she swatted him away. george dramatically saluted them before hobbling away again, wanting to mingle and socialize before the fair officially opens.

cassandra gathered her things once more as she eyed your table with a sense of pride.

"you never cease to amazing me sweetie. i always love how you decorate your books."

her words swelled in your heart and that thing that was buried right under the surface dissipated, only just for a moment. and you were completely and utterly okay with that.

"thanks cassie..." your voice drifting ever so softly. like she was going to catch it in the end like she always does.

~ ~

when you met cassandra last year, you heard her voice before you saw her. you were seated at the lobby of your apartment building, waiting for a blind date that never picked you up. it was about two hours before you decided to call it and when you looked up, you saw her.

she was a bright eyed woman, her grey hair tossed behind a small pink scarf, something you've only seen worn a few times or rather only in movies. she looked at you with a look of concern. you weren't crying of course, why waste tears on some stranger right?

but you got your hopes up immensely high and someone as experienced in her years as she was, she could tell a disappointed look when she saw one.

"oh my dear, what's the matter? are you hurt?"

you shook your head no, having no energy to formally respond with a voice.

"come here love, let's bring you back home. do you live here?"

you nodded.

she waddled her way towards you, keeping you close to her. she was a tiny woman, hunched over slightly as she led you to the elevator. once you were both inside, she asked what floor you were on and pressed the appropriate button for you. her floor being the one below yours.

"sorry we have to stop at mine first..." she began and you shook her head to stop her.

"don't be. it's okay... i was heading up anyway." you finally had strength to talk again, "i should be saying sorry for keeping you from getting home."

she scoffed at your response, displaying one of the warmest smiles you've ever seen.

"sweetie, you're doing me a favor."

the elevator dinged and opened to her floor, the woman turning to walk out.

"i am?" you asked her and she nodded, standing outside the elevator doors.

"yes. because no man deserves to make someone as lovely as you this sad."

your face went from feeling defeated to utter confusion as the woman smiled again. this time knowing exactly what you were going to ask.

"i know disappointment when i see it."

and just like that, the elevator door closed.

~ ~

"how are you feeling otherwise?" cassandra asked you, momentarily glancing over at your beautiful table.

"better. only sometimes," you responded, a lump suddenly appearing in your throat. feeling as if you were half lying somewhere.

"that's okay. just remember that someone who's broken you then doesn't deserve to break you now," she gently held your cheek, looking at you as if for the first time again.

"and besides, who knows who you'll might meet today."

~ ~

cassandra's words rung in your ears, weighing heavy on a hopelessly romantic heart. being alone was easy and you weren't lying if you admitted that to anyone because it was true. that was one of the perks of moving here, along with meeting all of your new friends.

but being lonely... that was difficult. especially when the fall season would blend into the holidays. one night after the other. because everyone seemed to find their someone by the times gifts were supposed to be given. which is why you wanted to put everything into the community fair this year.

and because heartbreak anniversaries were apparently a thing on your calendar.

you glanced over at your table, the last few books lingered for awhile. some people glancing over at them, while others would pick it up just to place it back down again. you didn't really know why seeing a book not being chosen hurt a small part of you. but it did.

or maybe you knew but didn't want to face it.

soon enough, you noticed someone hovering near the entrance, like he was contemplating whether or not to let his curiousity get the best of him. it may have been a little more than an hour or so when he actually approached your table.

you quickly stood up in response, as you noticed him eyeing a few of the older books. his hands lingered on each cover, not saying a word. his hair was blonde, wavy and messy, like he'd just woken up. the rest of him was covered by a black mask.

you did notice the way his hands moved though, hesitating to pick something. shaking a bit, a shadow crossed your peripheral and you could've sworn you saw a bruise somewhere on his knuckles.

"do you need help finding anything?" your voice coming out a lot softer than you had hoped. he looked up and you felt this entire weight lift off of you. like something encapsulating you just shattered into a million pieces and suddenly you could breathe again.

his eyes were so blue, like you were swimming in this endless ocean full of life and somehow you couldn't tell the difference between the stillness of the water or the blueness of the sky.

you could see a slight smiling forming on his face before he shook his head no.

"oh well if you want anything... i really recommend any of the classics."

his eyes glimmered a bit, letting his hand linger on one of the few books he was eyeing before.

"how much is it?" his deep tone caught you by surprise as you hesitated to respond. your own voice catching in your throat.

"oh um... everything is free."

"really?"

and just like that, you noticed something switch in him, a sense of curiosity filling those calm waters.

"which ones have you read so far?"

you didn't realize it, but your eyes lit up at the question. and he noticed. a small smile forming on his face.

"oh this one is my favorite... i haven't finished it, but it was really good from where i left off," you pointed at pride and prejudice.

you smiled at him, like your excitement was taking over and he could tell how much you loved talking about books. his gaze never wavering as you spoke about the stories that overwhelmed you and the others that never lasted a few pages before you decided to stop. he listened with such intent, such intrigue, it made you feel like you were someone he had known for years.

his aura was beautiful and a part of you wished that something would lead to something which would lead to something else. you didn't even feel anything in that regard, not yet anyway, but that same part. it was pulling... gently. ever so gently tugging at your heart.

"thank you for all of your recommendations," he began, holding on to ever single book you spoke about. you were about to protest that he didn't have to, but he was adament on keeping every single one.

"are you sure you want to get all of them?" your voice wavering on worry, but all he did was smile at you, letting out a soft laugh.

"i'm sure."

his voice was so reassuring, you almost forgot to offer him a bag. there was a slight pause before you realized, eyes widened in embarrassment.

you quickly apologized to him, running to the back to get a bag. you left the table feeling this overwhelming warmness flow through you as you noticed your heart beating against your chest. you tried to hide the excitement, but your heart was already getting your hopes too high.

but when you came back, your heart instantly dropped right into your stomach. a woman was now standing next to him, but something was different in his eyes. the oceans were no longer waves crashing against the seashore. they were climbing under thunderstorms. drowning in its own current.

her hair was dark red in color, flowing to accentuate the curves of her body. she was unbelievably gorgeous and your heart sank even more. but there was something about her that you couldn't figure out.

"here's your bag, i didn't mean to—"

"why your table is absolutely gorgeous, isn't it austin?"

he didn't glance at you or her or anyone. all he did was nod. you noticed the grip she had on his arm. it was tight. suffocating.

you offered the bag to them, but she shooed your hand away, like you were merely just a bug.

"no need sweetie, we were just on our way out. he was just looking anyway."

you tried your best to keep your composure, but you were fuming on the inside. only cassandra could call you that and at least when she did, it was endearing. not spiteful.

she flashed you the biggest smile that fueled your fire even more as she pulled austin away. you noticed him stiffen when they left the table. he couldn't even look at you.

and he couldn't even say goodbye.

#austin butler #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x reader #fic writing #austin butler x you #first fic #i want to cry #i actually hate him

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frogchiro · 3 months

Note

I hear it is time to spread the word of our lord and savior Tachanka? 👀

link: (https://rainbowsix.fandom.com/wiki/Tachanka_(Siege) Context of link: Just the wiki page of R6 operator Tachanka.

But I wanna highlight a few things!!!

Alexsandr Senaviev was born on November 3rd in Leningrad, Russia to a military family. At the age of eighteen, Senaviev was conscripted into military service just as the Soviet Union was ending its operations in Afghanistan. Upon the dissolution of his draft, Senaviev opted to enlist full time. He was part of the wrestling league, where his formidable frame and match strategy earned him accolades.

Alexsandr Senaviev has a boisterous sense of humor with a booming laugh. He can be quite blunt, but without the intent to offend

Senaviev's younger sister is a doctor and our discussion had barely started when he was showing me pictures of her in her doctor's smock, along with a dozen more photos of his nieces and nephews and his own kids. […] He and his sister grew up in a strict household without many things, which is why he makes a great effort to enjoy life. They both make sure that their kids are loved and raised with laughter. At the same time, he doesn't like to buy or accumulate physical objects and emphasizes this with his children, much to their consternation. I suspect that's also partly to do with his divorce. […]

(Also the main reason why we refer to Tachanka as 'lord'/godly is mainly 'cause his weapons/loadout is shit.)

Ladies and gentlemen, we got ourselves a REAL LIFE DILF <33

From what I gathered on his wiki he has at least two children, one of them a son and an ex-wife! Also him being an ex wrestler because of his size and strength...

Imagine being a babysitter for his kids, a 6 year old boy and a sweet 3 year old girl who absolutely adore their nanny who spends the majority of their time with them since their father is still a busy man and their mother is using her newfound freedom as a divorced woman so you're babysitting the little ones for a hefty sum from their dad whenever you're free from college.

But you have to admit, while the kids are literal angels and a delight to babysit, they nor the money are the sole reason for you being so eager to babysit and their father, Alexsandr, played a huge part in it too.

He was so large and heavily build, no doubt from his years in the military but his charming, boisterous attitude combined with his broad, toothy grin that almost seemed boyish on his mature face was what really made you fall for him :(( Whenever the kids were playing or napping, you two had a little time with each other to just talk and spend time together, get to know each other better because 'Let's not make this one of those stick-in-the-ass rigid employer-employee relationships, yes?' as Alexsandr put it himself.

The connection between you deepened but you were still so shy under his clear blue eyes :(( You couldn't possibly do the first move, what if he doesn't return your feelings? He's much older than you, he has a military career, two kids and a divorce, surely he wouldn't ever be interested in someone like you...right?

Ofc little did you know that Alexsandr was tugging his lengthy, heavy cock every night after sending you off with a thick wad of cash and a loud, happy thank you for taking care of his kids, though in reality he was everything but happy :(( Like it or not but the burly male fell for you, the most cliche thing on earth, the young, sweet babysitter that visited him home almost every day to care for his little ones with a gentle smile towards them and him too, such a stark contrast from his ex wife...

He was cumming every night multiple times to the thought of you right here beside him, in his bed, all nice and naked, sated and warm after a night of passionate love making. He came on his hairy tummy with a displeased growl, once the post nut clarity set in and realized that he wasted so much precious seed when it could be inside you >:(

Alexsandr knew he had to have you, had to confess to you how he felt but didn't know how; his loud, charismatic attitude failing him for the first time in years but these thoughts were for the time being pushed back once again to the back of his mind. He could think of a better solution on how to win you over once he wasn't so terribly horny, testosterone clouding his mind as his heavy cock jumped to life once again, thick potent sperm oozing from his swollen tip and Alexsandr could only think about how well he could breed you, he was a real stud despite his age y'know? Plus he always wanted another kid anyway <33

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #rainbow six siege x reader #lord tachanka #tachanka #tachanka x reader #i can't with the fact that the 'lord' part is sarcastic bc his weapons are shit😭#rainbow six siege #r6s x reader

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corrodedcoughin · 1 year

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It is finally the weekend after a full on month of exams. Steve knew paramedic training would be hard but the intensity of tests between gruelling placements is proving to be a lot to handle. Right now that doesn't matter, its a Friday night and his course mates decided that they should congratulate themselves for getting through the semester by going to a bar, drinking and try to be average college students instead of college students who regularly attend medical emergencies with no clue of how to help for 8 weeks blocks at a time. They've all seen their share of tragedies but they've witnessed the joys of the job too. The happy tears on the eyes of loved ones proves to Steve time and time again that he absolutely chose the right profession to study.

Robin isn't part of the course but she's come to every social event they have, just like Steve going to all of hers with her psychology friends. They are both honorary members of each other's course and are kind of expected to turn up at these things. So this is how they end up at a ridiculously busy bar with shots being shoved at them by Ali, an amazing paramedic in training but absolutely terrifying in her determination. She half arm hugs Steve and Robin, squeezing them tight.

'I love you guys. BUT you fucking cockblock each other and I'm sick of it', they start to protest in unison but are shushed by a finger to the lips.

'I just want to see you both Happy. That would make me happy. So Robin, you gotta go get that girl's number, okay?' Ali points to a girl by the stage, strawberry blonde and a toothy grin in conversation with a fluffy brown haired boy. Both of them in deep conversation, clearly excited about whatever they are talking about, pointing at the small stage and the girl bouncing on her heels. They chose this bar for their night out for the famed wild band that plays semi-regularly who draw a loyal crowd. And by the looks of things, this girl is a big fan.

'And Steve? I know a man who's perfect for your pretty boy ways. Lead singer of the band, trust me, you'll see him and not be able to stop yourself. Now drink up guys, I'm buying you your first round of bravery in a glass.' She's slurring her words a little bit but her heart is in the right place. So, with a heavy hit to their backs from Ali, they clink the tiny shot glasses together and down them.

'Guess we better get moving dingus' Robin says with a odd mix of determination and uncharacteristic confidence. She's off before Steve can reply, fluffing up her hair and rubbing any non-existent lipstick off her teeth.

Steve turns back to the bar, the whole room is dimly lit and rumbling with loud conversations and that's before the band even starts. He feels at a loss without Robin at his side but knows he'd just have to make eye contact and she'd be back. He braces himself against the bar top, wondering if he can pre-plan his attack on the front man of the band he is yet to see. The years of team sports in high school means that Steve is never one to back down from a challenge and he's been wanting to flex his old reputation of 'King Steve' for a while now so why not?

He's contemplating where the best place in the room is for ogling the band and ensuring the, apparently irresistable, lead singer sees him that Steve notices somebody has slid into the empty space next to him. Steve casts his eye over the stranger, taking in the full length of him and is pleasantly surprised. The man next to him is all long legs in black denim, big leather boots and shirt that has been so thoroughly cut at the sides he may as well just left it at home. Steve's eyes keep roaming though, over the light trail of hair left exposed from the way the man's shirt has risen that leads to his waistband. And there is jewellery, so many long chains that would be perfect to pull somebody in by, to get somebody close and under control. Steve briefly stops on the man's hands, long lithe fingers with heavy, dangerous rings that would probably feel incredible against Steve's skin now that the club has become hot and stuffy, nothing to do with the stranger in front of him of course. Steve finally raises his eyes to his face and nothing could have prepared him for the sinful smirk playing over his mouth aimed out towards the room or the deep, deep brown eyes that he really does get lost in for a second. To top it all off there's a wild mane of fluffy hair that would be perfect for Steve's hands to pull.

Steve knows he's supposed to be looking for the lead singer but who's to say he can't set his own challenge instead. The other man nods and Steve takes his chance;

'You here for the show?' Its not his finest work when trying to get in somebody's pants but its a start. The man swivels to fully face Steve and leans in like he has a secret to tell

'Sweetheart I am the show.' Its an awful line, truly and the guy clearly knows it from the way he's holding back a laugh by the end of the statement. Steve should be turned off, should walk away and tell Ali that as much as the singer may look like God's gift, his charm leaves a lot to be desired. The problem is, Steve has never wanted a person more in his life. So he tries to give a bitchy side eye but can't stop the smile tugging at his lips

'Is that right? Better tell me what name I've got to scream tonight if I'm going to have to compete with a few fans.' it is an equally pitiful line, but it makes the man raise and eyebrow in amusement and blush rise from his neck to cheeks. Steve might be wondering how far down it goes and if he could make it go further.

Steve stands his ground as the singer grabs his hand and raises it to his lips, kissing his knuckles, 'It’s Eddie, and don't worry, you'll be the only one I'm looking for on stage'

It is all so silly but it makes Steve's stomach swoop, sure he's been flirted with before but this feels like courtship from a poorly aged romcom and he can't get enough. He considers the possibility of Ali spiking that first shot. He can't help it, Steve is swaying into Eddie’s space, feels himself doing so and does nothing to stop it, waiting to see what reaction is causes in Eddie. He’s rewarded when Eddie’s gaze lingers on his lips, he still hasn’t let go of his hand, still running his thumb over Steve’s knuckles. Steve takes a step forward, his empty hand starting to rise with all intentions of cupping Eddie’s jaw and pulling him in. He see’s Eddies eyes start to slide almost shut, showing his own desire.

‘EDDIE, MAN C’MON! ITS SHOW TIME!’ Steve manages to bite back a groan of frustration but Eddie’s is loud and clear as they untangle.

‘Stick around after the set, yeah?’ it’s quiet, barely audible of the growing noise in the bar but Steve nods and Eddie is heading to the stage, a bounce in his step. Steve almost feels like an idiot for watching him go but then Eddie turns and starts to walk backwards, shouting at Steve;

‘Fair maiden! I never got your name!’ Steve laughs at the childishness of it all but shouts his response back. In return Eddie holds both his hands to his chest over his heart and lets his back hit against the stage door as if stunned by a name. The door is suddenly opened from behind, Eddie stumbling backwards and picked up by his bandmates, he manages to send a wink to Steve before the door closes again.

----

Steve is on his own, at the makeshift half-assessed barrier only possible at tiny bar gigs. In all honesty it would probably be safer to just take them away. He gets lost in this thought as the lights all but cut out and the band makes it to the stage. Suddenly he understands that the barrier might be more for the band than the fans. There’s a rush of people to the front of the barrier as expands and hands reach over, trying to touch Eddie. This is all before the lights even go up but seeing as the venue is tiny the lights from the bar are illuminating the stage. The fluffy haired boy from the start of the night is on drums and two other guys, pick up the instruments that were left on stage. Steve only has eyes for Eddie though, notably smiling down at his guitar.

The lights go up, Eddie leans in close to the mic, manic smile on his face and lets out a shout of ‘ALL ABOARD!’ followed by a laugh and a heavy guitar riff. From then on out it Eddie really is a show, Steve couldn’t put it better if he tried, The whole band clearly in love with what they do. There’s calls and response with the audience, jumping around the set and laughter from all of them as they clearly ride the high. Eddie engages them all in conversations during the breaks between songs, showcasing the relationship between them, making everyone wish they were part of the band too. Steve isn’t a fan of heavy music. If it had been anyone else he’d worry the gig would amount to him suffering through a set list begging for the end. But this? This is different. In Steve’s opinion these guys are destined for the big time.

Through set Eddie is never far, he prowls the stage but somehow is always paying attention to Steve, sending smiles his way. He gets really into a particular solo, fingers moving over the neck of the guitar, Steve is captivated for reasons that may include his mind wandering to what else Eddie might be able to do with his hands. Then Eddie /grinds/ against the body of the guitar and Steve feels his eyes widen his fists clench at his sides, stock still in the crowd of moving bodies. Eddie then has the audacity to make direct eye contact with Steve as he sinks to his knees and continues to play. Its safe to assume Steve doesn’t remember much else after that.

The gig wraps up to applause and foot stomping after a well received encore that Eddie threatens to stage dive in but stops himself after riling the crowd up. The band hop off stage, not needing to breakdown the stage, they have a three day stint at the bar and this is their second night according to the posters around the place. Steve turn’s to survey the area as Eddie talks with fans that descended on the band when they finished. He’s thinking about going to the bar, grabbing a drink when he sees Robin making out with the girl that was suggested to her. He averts his eyes, he loves his best friend but somethings he does not need to see. Just as he turns to make his way to the aforementioned bar Steve feels a hand on his shoulder, turning him around. Eddie is standing close and slides his hand from Steve’s shoulder to his neck, up to the back of his head.

‘Like what you saw Stevie?’ the nickname might be overly familiar in the setting but Steve really doesn’t care

‘You weren’t lying when you said you were the show’ Steve tilts his head ever so slightly to side, hinting at his wants. He can feel Eddie’s breath on his lips, almost touching and the thought is maddening. Just as Eddie pulls Steve’s face closer he murmurs ‘Could give you a private one if you ask nicely’.

Steve pushes forward, pressing his lips to Eddie’s chasing what he’s been after all night, lets his hands slide onto Eddie’s hips and under his tshirt, trailing up his back. Eddie’s hands are in Steve’s hair and one on his ass, pulling him close. Breathing hard they break apart to hear a very drunk Ali shouting

‘SEE STEVE??? ROBIN?? I KNOW YOUR TYPES!!! I KNOW ‘EM!!!’ She’s maybe been a bit too heavy handed with the shots. Without thinking Steve detaches from Eddie, walks up to Ali and ask the bartender for a glass of water. Ali slings an arm around Steve slurring her words slightly as she asks again, wanting to make sure that she was right, that she knows Steve’s type.

‘Yup, yeah you do Ali, you do. Don- Ali don’t throw the water!’ He can hear Eddie chuckling behind him, muttering something about 'Sir Steve saving the day'. Ali eyes him and whisper shouts to Steve

‘You should thank me, you’d never find him without me. Robin too. You should allllll thank me’ She’s out of it and will live to regret it in the morning. Which will be precisely when Steve will let her know that he’s actually been engaged to Eddie for coming up to a year now and Robin and her girl, Chrissy, are in talks of adopting a cat.

But that can wait, he has a boy at his back, begging to be taken home.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #fun fact I want Ali to be argyle at the start but I couldn’t make it work #so welcome Ali #also I am considering a part two so posted to ao3 too incase I wanted to add to it later #this is all down to anon #I’m trying to get back into writing. it’s a slow process and progress is slow but we move!#the only way up is through!

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magicshopaholic · 1 year

Text

Unfinished Business (Jungkook x OC)

Summary: You hate leaving things unfinished - something Jungkook knows a thing or two about.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

Genre: Fluff, angst (but not the kind you think)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 5.4 K

Warnings: language, tattoos and needles, a lot of ambiguity

A/N: Writing for the OG couple after a long while. Highly recommended reading (or re-reading) The Fifth Part 1 and 2, or at least Part 2 for sure. Contains a lot of references to the past. Takes place post-military enlistment, a few months after Honey.

Tagging: @bbl32 @ggukkieland @bangtannoonalvg @pb-n-juju @juciu @jeoncookie-bts @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @meirkive @kflixnet (italics cannot be tagged. If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment or ask)

Listen to: "suspicious minds" by elvis presley

jungkook masterlist | main masterlist

It’s only seven am, but Lia’s focus has already been stolen.

Clutching a cup of hot coffee and dressed in nothing but Jungkook’s t-shirt, she leans against the kitchen doorway of his new apartment, pensively surveying the last remaining boxes that need to be unpacked. They aren’t too big; all the major work was done yesterday, including unwrapping, decorating and cleaning up. The three cartons left in the corner of the living room, one of them marked Fragile, can’t take too much time or effort.

But Lia can’t handle things left unfinished.

Draining her cup, she places it on the kitchen mantle and retrieves a pair of scissors, getting to work. The first box is living room utilities; a key holder, fridge magnets, a few chargers. She moves them all to their correct locations, trying to make as little noise as possible so as to not wake Jungkook.

A lot of the heavy lifting yesterday had been done by him; even though he’d seemed to enjoy it, he’d been exhausted by the end of the night. As determined as he’d still been, by the end Lia could tell his energy was declining, especially as his hints to get her to move in with him began becoming less and less subtle.

She’s rummaging through the second box, filled mostly with other knick knacks, when Jungkook emerges from the bedroom, squinting sleepily and pulling on a t-shirt.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says, voice thick with sleep. He clears his throat.

“It’s no problem,” she replies absently, glancing up at him. “There’s coffee in the machine.”

The sound of his feet padding into the kitchen fades away slightly as she continues unpacking. The second box has only the dregs of a bachelor’s past in it, including a remote that seems to belong to nothing and a half-empty box of condoms. Deciding to let Jungkook deal with it, she reaches for the last box just as he joins her on the floor.

“Okay, I don’t know where to place these,” she tells him, gesturing to the carefully bubble-wrapped photo frames. “I mean, I can try, but -” She scans the entertainment unit around the television, noting space for at least eight or ten frames. “This seems like something you should decide.”

“You can, too,” he offers, picking out a frame and unwrapping it. “Half the pictures are of you,” he points out, flashing her a toothy grin.

“They’re with me, not of me,” she corrects him, even as she takes the frame from him and admires the picture. It’s of them seated on the edge of a go-kart, in racing overalls and with breathless grins. “This was a fun day.”

“Yeah. The cars were faster than I expected.” Jungkook is quiet for a moment before placing the picture down and tilting his head towards the box. “How many are there in total? I’m not even sure all of them will fit.”

“Sure they will.” Lia drags the box closer and they begin unwrapping the pictures one by one, the memories making them chuckle occasionally. Despite the fact that a large number of them don’t include her, it’s strangely endearing to view glimpses of Jungkook’s youth, his friends and his success.

“This one should go right in the middle,” he decides, holding up a framed picture of the day he’d taken Lia home to meet his parents for the first time. Jungkook had dragged her to the centre of the group, his parents on either side of them, and his brother behind them right after he’d set the timer on the camera.

“It’s cute,” she agrees, “but shouldn’t you put this one up there, too?” she asks, holding up a picture of him with his group members. “Wasn’t this your first award?”

“Oh, yeah…”

“There’s probably space for both.”

“What about this one, though? This was in Wembley…”

They continue debating between what must be at least fifteen frames, eventually standing up to start arranging them on the shelf.

“Wait, you want to do them all now?” he asks a bit incredulously, eyes wide.

“It’s not that many, Kook,” she tells him, patting his shoulder encouragingly. “We’ve unpacked everything else - do you really want just one box to lie around in the living room?”

“I don’t mind.”

“Really.”

“Let me say that differently: I don’t mind.”

Lia struggles to suppress a smile at his cheeky response and picks up another handful of frames from the box, moving to the shelf. “You got me. I don’t like loose ends. Now can we do this? Come on, you’ve always said you wanted one of these in your living room,” she reminds him. “You finally have it.”

Jungkook sighs dramatically but joins her, for she’s not wrong, and picks up a picture of himself and Namjoon at the United Nations. “Okay, let’s see…” Filled with concentration, he scours the shelf and finally picks a spot near the top. “There,” he says, carefully placing it at an angle and turning around with a flourish. “Okay, what’s next?”

She chuckles and hands him a picture of BTS on stage, and they get back to work. Eight more carefully arranged pictures later, both of them stand back to admire their handiwork.

Lia nudges his side gently. “It looks good, don’t you think?”

“It does… but I’d imagined a lot more pictures, to be honest.” He looks down at her inquiringly. “We have more, right?”

“At least ten,” she assures him. “Any particular events you want to put up? People or birthdays or anything…?” She rummages through the box and retrieves a few more frames, moving to arrange them on the sofa so they can both look at them.

“This one for sure,” says Jungkook after a moment, pointing at a picture of himself and a couple of his band members. “It was after Coachella - such a fun night. This one, with you in Incheon,” he adds, like it’s obvious. “This one, backstage.”

“Was it a special concert?”

“No, but I think I look good in it,” he admits sheepishly. “Or is that too conceited? You know what, forget I said -”

“I agree, completely,” she interrupts him seriously, swiping the picture up from under his nose and placing it next to a frame of Jungkook with Seokjin. She pauses at the sight of her boyfriend in the first one, looking dapper in a suit at the engagement party she’d attended as his date. In the second, Jungkook’s hair is thick and lush, falling onto his forehead with ease, his face shiny and alight with post-concert adrenaline. “Looks good, no?”

Jungkook grins. “If you insist. What about those?”

Lia takes stock of the remaining. “This one is nice… oh, this one is, too - but it might become repetitive… why do you have so many pictures with Namjoon? Okay, wait - this one, for sure. Oh - and this group picture.” She hands half of them to Jungkook and starts arranging the rest.

“Perfect.”

At his proclamation, both of them step back again to survey their progress. “Looks great, babe. We can get rid of the box and finally clear -” She breaks off when she sees a few frames still in the box. “Wait, what about these?”

“No more space.”

Lia frowns. “Huh,” she utters softly, tucking her hair behind her ears and reaching for the pictures. One is of Jungkook and Bang PD, but there’s already another one of them on the shelf, so she lets it go. The second is a slightly unfocused one of him at dinner with a few friends, while the third is the group picture she’d handed to him a couple of minutes ago.

She holds it up to show him. “You’re not putting this up?”

“What?” He glances at the picture and shakes his head. “No… it’s really crowded and you can’t see anyone in it. Besides, it’s not even a special event,” he adds.

She looks back down at it. It’s clearly taken at someone’s house - and at a party, judging by the attire. There are definitely a lot of people, but crowded might be a bit of an overstatement. There are about ten or twelve people at most, some sitting on a sofa and the rest standing behind it, almost everyone clutching glasses with varying levels of drink and smiling into the camera.

Even through the motionless image, the air of mild intoxication and friendship and fun is palpable. Almost all the members of BTS are in the picture, but the rest are a mixture of unfamiliar boys and girls, most of whom Lia doesn’t think she’s ever met. Jungkook is towards the side of the sofa, looking younger than she’s ever known him, with his friend Mingyu on one side and a girl on the other, perched on the arm of the couch.

Lia’s gaze lingers on Jungkook; this picture is pre-military, clearly, before the group went on hiatus to enlist. His eyes are shining, his hair thick and long, the lip ring glinting in the dim light. She spots various members of BTS; Jimin’s infectious smile, Namjoon’s dimple, Taehyung’s arrogantly handsome expression. All the other pictures with the group members on the shelf are at events - tours, shoots, engagements, the White House. This one is the most candid - the only candid one.

She bites her lip; she knows reuniting for a comeback wasn’t the cakewalk Jungkook tried to pass it off as. From the snippets she’s picked up from him and the way her marketing team at Hybe has been working on it since before she and Jungkook even met, it’s been clear that the members have been approaching it with different states of mind - and it’s no surprise that Jungkook might be struggling with it the most.

She watches him saunter into the kitchen and duck behind the fridge door. She’d never wanted to push him, especially about a part of his life she didn’t really know, but maybe that wasn’t the right way to go about it.

“Maybe we can fit it next to the one of you and Namjoon at the UN,” she suggests. “There’s space there. Or we can replace the one of you and your boxing instructor?”

“I like that one,” replies Jungkook without looking up, now busy assembling breakfast. “Do you want ham?”

“Sure, thanks,” she says absently. Glancing down at the picture again, she shakes her head slightly. It looks like a still from a movie. “It’s a really nice picture, Kook.”

“They’re all nice pictures, but something or the other would get cut,” he says reasonably. “These three are the least nice ones, I guess.”

“It was nice enough to get framed,” she points out. She knows she’s being persistent but it’s most unlike Jungkook to deliberately exclude a picture with his friends, especially the members of BTS. “Even the colour palette would look great with the rest. I think you should consider it.”

Jungkook sucks a bit of sauce off the tip of his finger. “It’s my shelf,” he says simply.

There’s a line, a line beyond which she’s sure her sweet and patient boyfriend can snap. Lia doesn’t think she’s there yet but a part of her is curious to see how far she can take this - and how concerning the situation is.

“Jungkook,” she begins, her tone gentler than before, “is something wrong? Because I thought everything was starting to go back to normal.”

He pauses before sighing softly. “You’re right,” he says finally, looking up but not quite meeting her eyes. “Everything’s okay now. You should put up that picture.” He gives her a small smile and goes back to the sandwiches.

Lia obliges, but something continues nagging at her. Jungkook is an open book, but this topic feels so out of reach to her that she can’t even begin to know where to start. As their comeback rehearsals and studio sessions have increased in frequency, he’s started to reach home later and later, looking more relieved and happy each time. She wonders if it’s still not enough for him, if something has changed so irreversibly that things aren’t bad - they’re just different.

But there are other things to do today.

“This might be the coolest thing we’ve done together,” says Jungkook excitedly. He slows the car, searching for a parking spot. When Lia doesn’t answer, he frowns. “You don’t agree?”

She winces. “I don’t think it’s the coolest.”

“Can you name a cooler thing we’ve done?”

“I can name, like, twenty.”

Jungkook huffs. “Do you really not want to do this?” he whines, his shoulders slumping.

“Of course, I do,” she answers immediately, squeezing his arm, her fingers pale against his dark tattoo sleeve. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Are you sure? Because it’s really not a big deal, we don’t have to -”

“I know that, Kook,” she interrupts him patiently. “I want to, I promise. I mean, it was kind of my idea,” she adds.

“What?” He glances at her incredulously. “I suggested couple tattoos, like, one month after we started dating.”

“Yeah, that probably wasn’t the best strategy,” she mutters wryly. “But, I meant, the design of the tattoos was my idea.”

“That’s true,” he allows. “And it’s a nice design. Very…” He breathes in dramatically. “Very us. Our core. A lot of history there,” he points out, grinning.

“And the least cheesy design I could think of.” She pinches his cheek as he slides into a parking spot, unable to resist. “Also one where if we break up, mine won’t look strange.”

“Wow, way to ruin it, Lee-lee,” he mutters, scowling as he switches off the car. “That’s it - we’re switching. I’m getting the basketball, you’re getting the basket.”

“What? Absolutely not,” argues Lia as she climbs out of the car. “I’m the one who came up with it; I’m getting the ball.”

“No, now I don’t want the basket. Why can’t you get it?”

“Because it’ll make no sense, an empty basket,” she points out, walking alongside him. “You have enough tattoos that it won’t stand out. Oh, and also - I actually play basketball?”

“That doesn’t sound fair.”

“That’s tough, Jeon,” she says shortly, patting him on the shoulder as they climb the stairs to the entrance of the tattoo parlour. “But we’ve already got the sketch and placement and everything done, and we’re sticking to the plan.”

“God, you’re bossy.”

“And you’re bratty,” she retorts, squeezing his shoulders and kissing his left one. “But I love you anyway.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook grins as they enter the reception, trailing slightly behind her. The low hum of the air conditioner takes over from the traffic outside as he follows Lia to the desk, keeping barely an inch of distance between their bodies and leaning over her shoulder. “You mean that?”

“Sure.”

“God, I love it when you talk dirty to me,” he mutters, pulling out his wallet for his ID and placing it next to hers, flashing a smile at the receptionist. “Fine, I’ll get the basket.”

He pinches her waist gently and she gasps in surprise, swatting his hand away. “Good. Because we’ve pushed this appointment enough times and I just want it to be done. I hate that it’s just unfinished and incomplete and just hanging there, waiting for us to get on with it.”

“Huh.” Jungkook is quiet for a moment. “What if the artist isn’t available today?”

“Then I will physically pick up the tattoo gun and draw the tattoos on us.”

“You’d really draw a tattoo on me? You? I mean, I love you,” he quickly backtracks, “but… you?”

“Exactly,” she says as they walk inside together. “So you better hope he’s in today or you’re going to end up having my artwork on your skin forever.”

“Point taken.”

Fortunately for them, not only is the artist available, but he’s prepped and ready to go. Two reclining chairs have been placed next to each other, the tattoo guns are plugged in and kept on the table, sterilised needles still in the packets, and a tray with small bottles of water.

“Ah, my favourite customer is here,” he greets, his lined face lighting up when he sees Jungkook. “And my second favourite customer by association,” he says to Lia, chortling at his own joke as they bow slightly to each other.

“Thank you for making the time,” she says, while Jungkook genially hugs him.

“Of course, of course. Ah, this is Eunbi,” he remembers, turning slightly and gesturing to a young woman who steps out of the staff room, “my apprentice.”

Eunbi gives them a small smile, smoothing her short blond hair self-consciously. The roots have begun to darken but it gives her a nice, rustic look.

They get settled after that, Lia and Jungkook on one chair each, while Eunbi and her boss take their seats on revolving stools, sketch pens in hand and tattoo guns on standby.

“It’s a really cute idea,” says Eunbi, carefully drawing the basketball on the inside of Lia’s wrist. “Jungkook oppa, you’re getting the basket?”

“That’s right.” He takes Lia’s free right hand from beside him and squeezes it. “I’m taking one for the team,” he says dramatically.

She rolls her eyes but squeezes his hand back anyway. “You’re the one who wanted couple tattoos. If anything, I’m taking one for the team.”

“Same difference.”

“Why basketball?” The tattoo artist, who Lia realises has yet to mention his name, peers at them from above his dark glasses. “Is it some new meme I’m not aware of?”

“Oh, no, it’s not a meme,” says Jungkook quickly. “We met while playing basketball.”

Eunbi looks up. “Really?”

“Playing is a bit of an overstatement,” says Lia.

“I didn’t know you played basketball,” says the tattoo artist skeptically to Jungkook. “Are you any good?”

“I’m getting better,” he mumbles, while Lia snorts.

“It’s true, he is,” she adds, grinning at Jungkook’s increasingly annoyed expression. “The first time was… not great. But he’s been practising since then.”

“Good on you, kid. You know, I used to play basketball in high school.”

“Really?” Jungkook turns to him excitedly. “Which position? Do you follow the NBA? I’ve started recently…”

Lia bites her lip as she watches him prattle on about his favourite team, about the last match he’d watched. It was one of the most endearing things he’d done: diving into her favourite sport with interest, learning the rules, watching the matches and following the players on social media.

She squeezes his hand absently, also glad that his strange mood from earlier seems to have disappeared. He’s cheery as ever, all the way from flirting his way into her shower, to proclaiming how he was willing to get the basket tattooed to prove how, much like the basketball filled the basket, she filled him with happiness.

Then she’d groaned and cringed while he’d laughed his arse off, turning the volume up in the car and singing along angelically to whatever song was playing.

“Lia.” Jungkook tugs at her hand. “You want to take this one?”

“Huh?” She turns apologetically to Eunbi. “Sorry, what was the question?”

“Oh, I - I asked how you two met.”

“Oh.” Lia glances at Jungkook, pursing her lips in amusement. “I think you should probably take this, no?”

He shakes his head and mock-glares at her. “Uh, okay. Well, long story short: we went on a date, I was a bit of a douche, but she decided to give me a second chance anyway.” Despite the humour of the situation, the relief in his voice is audible.

Heart warm, she nods. “He worked pretty damn hard for it.”

Jungkook nods. “Basketballs to the face notwithstanding.”

“Aw, that’s cute. And so are the tattoos,” adds Eunbi. “I wish my boyfriend would agree to one - but he’s terrified of needles.”

“I was terrified of basketballs for a good week there,” notes Jungkook. “But you’ve got to face your fears to overcome them,” he says wisely.

“You’re right. I wish he’d been a douche on our first date,” she jokes, “then I could’ve asked him to get a tattoo for me.”

“He’d have to be a really big douche for that,” says the tattoo artist, before lightly smacking Jungkook on the shoulder and ignoring his gasp. “And why were you a douche, huh?”

“I wasn’t - I didn’t -“

“His friend set him up and he was in a bad mood,” supplies Lia, reaching over and pinching her boyfriend’s cheek as he scowls.

“A really bad mood,” he clarifies. “Because he kept texting during dinner and asking for updates - I could’ve hit him, I swear.”

The tattoo artist responds reproachfully to Jungkook, but Lia barely hears it, for it brings back another memory she doesn’t dwell on too often.

She likes video games.

It’s the only aspect of their history she would rather ignore. Everything else - his apology, his attempts at getting to know her better, riding home on his motorbike in the rain, basketball with Dal - makes her reminisce with fondness, more often than not leading to an increased amount of affection for her boyfriend for the rest of the day. This one part of it, though? Not ideal.

She feels Jungkook clutch her hand tighter then, and she realises his tattoo has begun, the hum of the gun cutting through her thoughts. She squeezes his hand back automatically, endeared and exasperated at his wincing despite hundreds of tattoos, and pushes the unwanted detail of their history aside.

“I love it,” he says later, once they’re almost back at his house. He peels off the plastic from his shoulder a little bit before hissing.

“Don’t take it off yet, come on,” she tells him, pressing it back into place and stroking the reddened area. “It’s still fresh. And it does look great,” she acknowledges, lightly tracing the basket that’s wedged peacefully between two bigger tattoos on his tricep. “Do you think the fans will notice a new tattoo?”

“Doubt it. Or maybe they will,” he says after a moment. “You never know. They won’t be able to tell it’s about you, though,” he assures her.

“I’m sure,” she agrees, observing her own basketball tattoo. It hurt more than she expected but somehow, having Jungkook there doing the same thing helped. She won’t admit it to him without some eye-rolling, but she finds herself happy with their decision to get the tattoos after all.

“Do you want to get lunch?” Jungkook asks, unlocking the door and gently steering her in first.

“I’m good with ramen, honestly,” she says, taking off her shoes and padding through the living room. “Could you get a couple packets from the pantry? I’ll put the water on.”

Jungkook nods and disappears, softly humming a tune. Lia glances at the entertainment unit, his Playstation and neatly stacked DVDs, mildly satisfied that after an entire weekend’s worth of work, his apartment is properly set up.

Her gaze falls on the pictures, scanning Jungkook’s handsome face in each, before landing on the same group picture they’d argued about this morning.

And something falls into place.

“Got it!” When Jungkook returns a few minutes later, arms laden with no less than four packets of ramen, it’s to see Lia standing in the middle of the carpet, one of the photo frames in her hands. Even from here, he can tell exactly which picture it is.

She doesn’t look up at his entrance, and he takes the opportunity to dump the ramen on the kitchen island and slowly approach her.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Lia seems to tear her eyes from the picture to meet his eyes. To his relief, she doesn’t look angry or hurt. She simply looks curious - and confused. “This is - this is her.”

Jungkook bites his lip. “What are you talking about?”

She turns the picture towards him. “The girl you had a crush on. Back then.” She deliberately doesn’t elaborate and for that he is thankful. “This is her,” she says, pointing and tapping her finger on the glass.

It’s barely a question. After a moment, he nods. “Yeah, it is.”

She raises her eyebrows in surprise, as though she wasn’t expecting him to admit it so quickly. “And this is clearly the boyfriend,” she mutters as she gazes at the frozen faces, seemingly to herself, not being able to tell how his heart jerks. She looks up at his again, frowning. “Is that why you didn’t want to put this picture up? Because she’s in it, too?”

Jungkook sighs, his shoulders slumping. His gaze briefly falls on the picture, on her face, and he immediately looks away. “It didn’t feel right,” he confesses. “It felt like I would be… I don’t know. Disrespecting you.” He shakes his head and looks at the floor. “Especially if… someday, you decide to…” Here, he trails off, unable to find the nerve to finish his sentence.

“But… why?” Lia still just sounds confused. “She was just a friend, right? And you said it was over.”

“She was. And it is.” He shrugs, ignoring the old, dull pang in his chest. “I haven’t seen or spoken to her in years.”

“Did you think I would be mad?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, now wishing he’d just agreed to put the picture up when she’d handed it to him in the morning. This isn’t a topic he ever wanted to surface, and not with her. “When I first told you, you seemed… kind of mad. And then a bit sad.” He shakes his head. “You’re the most important thing to me now. I don’t want to ruin it.”

After a moment, he hears her sigh. He knows this sigh; it’s the same one he’d heard when he’d confessed to her that he didn’t know a lick of basketball, when his meticulously-planned drive-in movie date had gone to shit, when he’d inadvertently revealed that he was afraid she’d think he was too young for her.

“Kook…” She comes up to him, placing the frame on the coffee table on the way. Gently holding his hand, she tilts her head to meet his eyes. “I can’t be mad at you for something that happened before we met. Everyone has a past.”

“Yeah, but I’ve told you about this particular past before,” he reminds her, feeling wretched. “And it didn’t go very well.”

“Well… yeah. It didn’t come up in the best way, I guess,” she murmurs, and he knows she’s remembering their conversation in the Hybe copy room. “But now that we’ve moved past that… I can’t hold you to a crush you had years ago. Especially when it seems like you were friends,” she adds quietly.

Jungkook’s chest starts to feel heavy again. “You just… you sounded kind of mad. I think. Maybe I was imagining it,” he mutters, shrugging tiredly.

“I wasn’t mad… I guess I was a little thrown,” she admits. “I mean, I know you said she had a boyfriend. I just didn’t think it was one of the other members.”

He says nothing. He appreciates her understanding, although he should’ve always expected her to rise above petty jealousy or insecurity. It occurs to him for the hundredth time how lucky he is to have her; how, in the midst of a truly despondent time in his life, she’d been the beacon of light he’d been fortunate enough to stumble upon. He hadn’t looked back since.

But the moment his gaze lands on the picture discarded behind her, his heart creeps up his throat again.

“Is that what it is?” Her voice brings him back. “Do you feel guilty because she was dating your friend?”

For starters. There’s no point, he realises. As mature and understanding as Lia is, Jungkook doesn’t think he can find the words or the courage to relive his regrets, the ones that still catch him unawares when he hears her name in passing, or when he goes to rehearsal and inadvertently locks eyes with his hyung.

“Kind of.”

Lia nods slowly. “It’s okay, Jungkook,” she murmurs, tugging at his hand again. “No one can control how they feel.”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to respond to that. He makes a non-committal sound, his gaze flickering to the ground.

“You told me you were over her.”

“And I meant it.”

She squeezes his hand. “Good.”

He wills the heaviness in his chest to go away, and forces a small smile onto his face. “Sorry.”

She returns it, holding his gaze before reaching up and pressing a quick kiss to his mouth. “We don’t have to put it up,” she reminds him.

But Jungkook shakes his head. “No, you’re right. It is a nice picture,” he allows, picking it up. “And it was a long time ago.”

Apparently satisfied, Lia smiles back radiantly. “And you look very hot in it.”

“If only you’d known me then.”

“You would’ve learnt to play basketball a lot sooner,” she agrees, chuckling.

“So you forgive me?” he asks after a moment.

Lia’s smile fades slightly. “For having a crush?” she asks, reaching up and touches his forehead with hers. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Not even to your friend,” she adds. “I mean, nothing happened, right?”

She’s beautiful. A beacon of light in a period of darkness he couldn’t see beyond. She saved him, more than she would know.

Jungkook brushes a lock of hair off her forehead. “No,” he lies.

After lunch, Jungkook volunteers to clean up the living room and kitchen while Lia goes to do the laundry. Collecting their clothes from his bedroom, she chucks them in the washing machine, loading it with detergent and softener and turning it on.

She stops by the pantry on her way back, looking for a chocolate bar or any other candy, something to officially clear the air with Jungkook. She searches along the shelves, passing by ramen, boxes of Caffetta coffee, and a lot of protein powder - only to come to the conclusion that his house is hopelessly understocked with sugar.

“We can get low fat,” she murmurs to herself, preempting his response as she makes her way back to the living room. She stops abruptly at the doorway when she spots him, his back tilted towards her, framed picture in hand.

Lia’s heartbeat feels louder for a moment. She takes a quick step back behind the doorway; it’s unnecessary, though, for his focus is on something else entirely.

She ought to have seen it before. It wasn’t until they returned to Jungkook’s apartment that she even noticed the most important detail in the picture. Mingyu sat to Jungkook’s right while a girl sat to his left, perched on the arm of the sofa. One hand hung loosely around Jungkook’s shoulder, so casually, so harmlessly, that Lia hadn’t even registered it this morning.

On her other side was her boyfriend, clearly. The way she leaned into him, the way his arm rested confidently on her waist, his fingers brushing the bare skin between her light blue jeans and striped crop top, the way their bodies fit perfectly - it looked like they’d known each other forever. There was no doubt as to who he was, especially since he was someone Lia had definitely met.

In light of how intensely close the couple looked, the girl’s hand around Jungkook’s shoulder seemed unimportant. It was almost like a habit, or convenience, her dark nail paint and the small cigarette stub between her fingers looking like they belonged there.

It’s her, isn’t it? There was no one else in the picture it could be, not any of the other handful of girls in the same frame. It’s her; the one who likes video games, the one with a boyfriend - the boyfriend who Lia now knows is one of Jungkook’s best friends, a big brother he loves.

She bites her lip, continuing to watch him until his shoulders relax slightly and he places the photograph back on the shelf. He gathers the empty bowls on the centre table and heads towards the kitchen, and Lia feels the seed of uneasiness sink in her stomach.

She can believe he’s over her. She can believe it’s in the past, that Jungkook is with her in the present.

Whatever it is, though - it’s definitely not finished.

—

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to leave a review :)

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #bangtanwhq #bangtantheatrenet #bangtanbathhouse #k-vanity #wkcnet #bangtanoasis #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook angst

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 11 months

Text

The Girl In The Net Part 8

The beach had been unbearably hot and eye stingingly salty.

The open ocean is mercilessly sweltering and salty to the point of tears. Salty to the point where even grazing her tongue over her lips leaves a taste upon it.

At least on the beach, Mai had an opportunity to retreat back to the luxuries of her home, or at least to a patch of shade beneath the palm trees.

This boat offers no such opportunity. The best she can do is steal away into the cabin and pretend like she isn’t trapped on a giant box with sails and a steering wheel.

If only she could be one of the seagulls–they can perch themselves upon the Blood Clam and then fly away at their leisure.

“I’m on a boat!” Tom Tom declares. “A real boat!”

He hasn’t sat down since boarding.

In fact, the boy has taken to exploring as many nooks and crannies as he possibly can within the shortest span of time.

He darts from one end of the ship to the other, leaving Dock hapless to catch him as he scours through trunks and drawers and narrowly dodges harpoons.

If only Mai had some of that enthusiasm for herself. As it were, she feels quite seasick. They haven’t even set sail yet and the unending rocking of the ship is already making her queasy. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, she begins to wonder if this is a mistake.

She should just go home right now and take whatever punishment her parents have in store for her for endangering both herself and Tom-Tom.

Mai waits for Tom Tom to zip by so that she can scoop him into her arms and end his reign of terror.

She certainly can’t bring herself to join Dock in the chase.

At least the old man seems humored by it.

“Oh you little rascal!” He declares, sending Tom Tom into a fit of giggles. “More elusive than those Dragon Kois!”

“Dragon Kois?” Mai speaks for the first time since boarding.

Hama nods. “They're the most notorious pirates in the Fire Nation. They’re so efficient because they’re one of the few willing to recruit earthbenders and waterbenders too. If you see deep orange sails, better to go the other way. Especially if you noticed a white winged koi embroidered onto the sails. You’ll be lucky if you never have a run in with them.”

“I tend to avoid orange and yellow colored things anyhow. They hurt my eyes.” Mai shrugs. “So which crew is June a part of?”

Hama flashes her one of those toothy grins.

“The Dragon Kois.” Mai grumbles. “Of course.”

.oOo.

Azula peers down at her hands.

It is still a shock to see the red gashes across her knuckles.

No one has ever hit her before, let alone whipped her.

She is certain that it is going to scar over.

At least she can say that June had been true to her word. She trails her fingers along the linework of the whip marks if only to take advantage of the use of her hands while she can. She imagines that it won’t take much to get June to revoke her unrestrained arm privileges.

She gives them a good stretch and audibly sighs at her new found lack of strain. She can feel the tingles of blood rushing down her arms and back to her hands. This isn’t so pleasant, it actually rather hurts.

But when the prickles and static subsides her relief is tangible.

She leans back, reveling in the sensations that she no longer feels. In the aches that are slowly working their way out of her arms and her tail.

She can’t say that her tail flicking is of the happy, excitable variety but it isn’t stress swaying either.

She draws her tail back up to her chest and hugs it.

She hears June sniff from across the room. “I never took you for being a cheerful type.”

“I’m not.” Azula replies. She supposes that her occasional continued tail swishes don’t do much to support her words.

“I suppose that I’ve gotten used to you sulking and frowning. Forgive me for mistaking this…” She gestures to Azula’s swishes, “for delight.”

“Oh don’t worry too much.” Azula mutters. “I’m still plenty miserable.” She folds her arms across her chest, resenting that small burst of joy that bubbles up at the prospect of being able to fold her arms.

That jittery burst of joy morphs and swells into a wave of anxiety.

Surely June is readying her whip to lash out at her for being sarcastic. Instead the woman kicks back in her chair and chuckles. “You do have a sense of humor, don’t you?”

Azula tilts her head. “I can’t say that I get my own ‘joke’. You see, I haven’t had many people to make jokes with; what was funny about what I just said?”

“The dry delivery.” She pauses. “Oh. Oh, spirits, you were completely serious.”

“About being absolutely miserable?” Azula nods. “Yes.”

“Okay but you were being sarcastic, yes?”

Azula frowns. She knows this game and she won’t play it. “You’re trying to get me to confess to something so that you have a reason to tie me up again.”

“I am not. I’d be more inclined to make a reason of your refusal to give me a straight answer to any of my questions.” June fiddles with her whip. Intimidation tactic or absent gesture, Azula’s heart still quickens.

“I was being partially sarcastic. You really don’t have to worry because I am perfectly miserable, just like you want me to be.” She shrugs. “So I don’t pose much of a threat, do I?”

June seems to ponder her words; at least she can say for certain that toying with the whip is simply a thoughtless gesture, likely as second nature as Azula’s own twirling of her bangs. Finally she rolls her eyes. “I don’t want you to be miserable.”

“You let me starve for several days. I am in a crate made for guppies.”

“It is bigger than that.” June counters.

“It is a crate made for baby tigersharks at best.” Azula dares argue. “I am significantly larger than a baby shark.”

June sighs. “Truth be told, we don’t have anything bigger. When we get bigger catches we usually chop them up and put them in storage for later. This is the best I can do. Your other option is to flop around on deck.”

Azula swallows. “You can let me go.”

“Not an option.” June answers in an instant. “The captain wants you here and I’m not about to start a mutiny over that.”

Azula’s face falls.

“I can possibly get you better food though.” She mutters.

Azula narrows her eyes. “Why the change of heart all of a sudden?”

June quirks a brow. “I still haven’t gotten a story about how you became a mermaid.”

Azula crosses her arms once more and sulks lower into the water with a slight pout. She supposes that some things will be left to mystery.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Mai #Maizula #fanficiton #Mermaid

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ofpineapplesanddawns · 1 year

Note

In honour of alien day can I make a suggestion? Crowley using his new cool tail as a cat toy for Bentley. Ties a feather to it or something. Endless fun for cat. Crowley can play with cat while also cuddling with Aziraphale while he reads to them.

Perfect! Best way to play with your cat while being a terrifying hybrid!

Warning: mentioned alien body horror

On with the fic!

There was a jiggling sound from where Crowley was seated on the floor, a small box of knick-knacks and whatnot next to them. They were making little grunting sounds and seemed to be struggling with something.

Aziraphale slipped his bookmark into his book before sitting up. "Dear, whatever are you doing over there?"

Crowley sat up a bit straighter and turned, it was honestly surprising to see them looking bashful, considering their face was hard at showing expressions. They shifted and made a small growl of embarrassment before lifting up their tail.

Aziraphale hadn't even noticed that the tip had been hidden from his sight but he couldn't hold back the snorted laugh he let out, seeing what was attached to it.

It looked to be one of Bentley's cat toys, a little feathered thing that was probably meant to be a bird to a cat. It even had ribbons and a jingle bell on it. If Aziraphale remembered correctly, it was the toy that was attached to the end of one of those silly, little fishing pole cat toys.

Ah, yes, he sat the handle for the pole next to Crowley, so it was that toy.

"Are you trying to accessorize again, dear?" Aziraphale asked, clearly amused. "You know you can still wear some of your old things just fine." He gestured to the headband that Crowley was sporting, it kept their tangled hair out of their eyes, and it looked rather cute on them, which... was weird to say. Then again, Aziraphale found Crowley's new appearance attractive, so...

Crowley shook their head, then wagged the end of their tail, making the bell ring and the feathers and ribbons flutter about. On the bed, near Aziraphale's feet, Bentley seemed to take notice to the sound of the bell and opened her eyes.

She yawned sleepily and then noticed the colorful movement. She sat up, transfixed on the sight of her toy moving about like that and Crowley's mouth pulled back in a toothy grin.

They got on their hands and feet and moved their tail closer to their cat, who reached up with a paw, trying to bat at the toy. They made a happy growl, moving the tip of their tail this way and that, with Bentley watching in wonder and excitement. She jumped off the bed to try and chase the toy, and Crowley crawled onto the bed, taking her spot.

They sprawled out for a second before curling up as best as they could around their android, making a very pleased noise. As they did so, they kept gently swishing their tail back and forth and all around, Bentley chasing after it and trying to get her prize.

Aziraphale laughed in delight at the sight before wrapping an arm around their bony partner. "Sneaky thing, you wanted to cuddle and the kidd was in the way?"

Crowley shrugged and wobbled a hand, as if to say that was part of the reason. "Ah, you wanted to play with her while you got cuddles."

That earned Aziraphale a nod and he chuckled, kissing Crowley's head. "Clever dear. Want me to read to you while you play?" Again, he got a nod, and Aziraphale picked up his book, removing the bookmark, and continued to read. As he spoke, he could heard the bell jingling about and little paws thumping this way and that in their chase.

I love that this is a horror au, but all the horror stuff seems to be centered on when Crowley was human and Aziraphale still believed he was one.

#good omens #crowlien au #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #anthony j crowley #john's drabbles

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walkingfandead · 1 year

Text

Title: All The Same, part three.

Story Summary: When the outbreak in Atlanta gets out of control you bribe Merle with your dealer boyfriend’s stash to get you out of the city. The three of you meet a group of survivors and you’re given a chance to get to know the younger Dixon brother as you bond over shared trauma and the apparent end of the world…

Chapter Summary: You and Daryl go into the woods.

Warnings: Merle. Vague descriptions of hunting I guess.

Jeans probably weren’t the best choice in the middle of an Atlantan summer but you couldn’t exactly go shopping for a new outfit, and even you knew that wearing shorts out in the woods was a sure way to get yourself bitten by all kinds of nasties besides Walkers.

You pulled on fresh underwear - god how you cherished clean clothes nowadays - your jeans and an old chequered button up to slip over your sleeveless shirt. Your boots were all you had but at least they were well worn and comfortable. Slipping your knife back into your pocket you left your tent to immediately be met by Andrea’s pouting face as she spoke to Shane.

He was obviously relaying your plan to go hunting with Daryl, and she looked far from happy about it. Deciding you’d make up for ducking out on breakfast duty by teaching her your new skills first. You tried not to feel too guilty as you made your way to where Daryl and Merle usually hung around fixing up Merle’s bike, when they weren’t skinning animals or doing anything else recreational.

Merle was leaning against his truck with his arms folded over his chest, his face set with a grim expression. You shot him a withering glance as Daryl came into view carrying his crossbow over one shoulder and a bag on the other. His face was set in a tense frown not unlike Merle’s and you noticed just how alike the two men looked.

For a moment you worried that he was pissed at you for forcing him into this. You’d not exactly given him much choice by throwing the suggestion at him in front of Shane. It hadn’t been your intention to make Daryl feel punished for Merle being a creep. He had, as some may say, been ‘defending your honour’.

Which was… interesting.

Would he have cared as much to punch his own brother in the face if it had been one of the other girls in the lake?

Perhaps, when the time was right, you’d ask him.

He stopped in front of you and gave you a quick look over. You lifted your chin a little higher and narrowed your eyes.

“Something wrong?” you asked.

“Ya ever actually been out in the woods before, city girl? Don’t want ya whining if ya break a nail out there.”

City girl? You frowned. Merle had called you that, back when you first met. Although he’d smiled that lopsided toothy grin at you, his tone had been unmistakable. He thought you were a spoiled, pampered brat.

Weak.

Useless.

You crossed your arms over your chest and sniffed as you raised one shoulder in an easy shrug. So it seemed Daryl was pissed at you. Well that was his problem. You were tired of having nothing to contribute to the group other than washing pots and sweaty piles of clothes.

“Don’t worry about me,” you tell him with a thin smile, “I can get dirty with the best of them when I need to.”

Daryl’s ears grew pink as Merle let out a choked laugh but you pierced him with a deathly glare.

“Except for you.” You told him. “Wouldn’t trust you with my life.”

“Well ya already did sweetheart, not that you’ve shown an ounce of gratitude for it.” Merle fired back.

You remembered dangling the bag of pills in front of Merle’s greedy eyes as hell broke out around you. Your fingers had still been sticky with your dead boyfriend’s blood from where he’d bled out from the gaping bite wound on his throat…

“Oh I gave you more than an ounce, douchbag.”

“Ya wanna do this or not?” Daryl suddenly snapped at you, “‘cause if ya do ya gonna have to be quiet.”

You flinched inwardly. So maybe you were a little loudmouthed sometimes. Your mother always said you were a hot-head. You took after your father that way.

You feigned pulling an imaginary zip across your lips and pocketing an invisible key.

Daryl rolled his eyes before shaking his head in weary defeat.

“C’mon then. Don’t fall behind, this ain’t a babysitting service.” He grunted, and strode into the nearby brush where he disappeared amongst the overgrown trees. You nearly tripped over your feet to keep up.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Merle called after you, although you weren’t sure if his words were meant for you or his brother.

You ignored him and caught up with Daryl as his purposeful stride had slowed to quieter, more careful footsteps.

“How far are we going?” You asked before Daryl made an annoyed shushing sound.

Ah, the quiet rule. Of course.

You did your best to match Daryl’s pace and light steps, impressed with how a man his size could move so effortlessly and with almost no sound.

It had only been a few minutes since you’d left the sounds of the camp behind but something about him felt different out amongst the wilderness. His shoulders weren’t held so tight, his gaze was up and alert to his surroundings yet his face looked relaxed… at peace almost.

You realised Daryl was… happy. At least happier than you’d seen him so far.

His guard was finally down and he seemed to almost forget you were there as he collected a few sticks and twigs along the way as you remained just a few steps behind in his shadow.

When he did finally stop you were so intent on being as soundless as he was that your focus was on the ground, stepping around the twigs large enough to snap, leaving you to almost collide with his back.

When he turned to say something he was startled to find you standing close enough that you could see the subtle flecks of blonde hairs on his stubbled chin hidden amongst the brown.

“Jesus.” Daryl hissed.

Your smile was apologetic but you raised your shoulders in a shrug.

“You said stay close.”

“I said— never mind. Look.”

He gestured toward the ground a short way from your feet. Your nose wrinkled at the small piles of droppings but you nodded your head in understanding. Daryl’s voice was low as he leaned slightly closer to speak.

“See over there? S’where ya likely to find a nest. Ya more likely gonna see em at dawn or sundown when they’re out more. You might see where they run back too an’ all, so ya know where to set the traps.”

Daryl slipped his bag from his shoulder before taking a few steps toward a gnarled tree stump. He pulled a coil of thin wire from the bag as you joined him.

His eyes met yours as he held it loose in his fingers, offering it to you.

“Ready to get ya hands dirty, city girl?”

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

You were never great with things that required dexterity. You were all thumbs, as your mother used to point out endlessly. But Daryl was surprisingly patient as you bent the wire round and round, trying to add the second circle which would create the necessary loop for the trap.

When you yanked your sore finger out of yet another tangled mess in frustration after somehow managing to get yourself stuck in the loop again he didn’t reprimand you or snatch it away to fix himself. Instead he calmly showed you the correct way to do it for the dozenth time and let you try to figure it out for yourself.

His sudden patience surprised you but you quickly realised he seemed to enjoy teaching. And, admittedly, knowing he was watching you so closely was a factor in why you kept messing up.

Your hands were shaky under the intensity of his gaze. For some reason you wanted to prove that you could do this, that you weren’t wasting his time.

That you weren’t totally useless.

So when you finally got the loop right you beamed and lifted the completed snare in triumph, looking to him for approval which he gave in the form of a rare, warm smile. You noticed how it met his eyes, softening his face, and almost blushed.

“Next step…”

He took his collection of twigs and sticks and began showing you how to set them in the ground and hang the wire.

“It’s a hanging snare. Idea is the rabbit jumps through the hoop so it’s usually better if you set it in a gap in a bush or somethin’ so they can’t just run round it. They get caught, wire pulls tight and it’s bye bye Bugs Bunny.”

You cringe.

“Do you have to say it like that?”

Daryl smirked as you squirmed beside him.

“You weren’t so sheepish about eating Bambi last night.”

“Oh stop! Do you have a vendetta against cute cartoon wildlife or something?

“Just the ones tha’ taste good.”

Your pout and wide eyes were met with a playful eye roll.

“You’re pure evil.”

“Ya the one tha’ asked to go huntin’.”

“Touché.” You conceded, “But no more comparing dinner to beloved childhood animals okay?”

The half-smile was still fixed on Daryl’s face as he looked at you from beneath his long lashes. You stared for a moment, once again noticing something new and surprising about him. Daryl Dixon wasn’t the kind of man you’d describe as pretty, but with surprisingly long lashes and cheekbones that added a sort of delicacy to his features you realised there was more hidden beneath the gruff exterior he exuded than you’d have ever thought.

His smile wavered as you stared for just a moment too long. Daryl dropped his eyes back to his hands and the playful moment between you disappeared.

“C’mon. We gotta get these traps set.”

You sighed as the spot beside you was suddenly empty and watched Daryl’s retreating back and hunched shoulders.

You had spooked more than a few rabbits, it seemed.

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delirious-donna · 2 years

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I'm so so glad that you are taking requests, now I got plenty plenty ideas! But unfortunately, I don't wanna scare you lol. So I'm just going with the one running on my mind for a while-

Since you want the requests to be precise, here you go!

Pairing : Natsu/Lucy(cause they're the best duh)

Prompt : We all know that Lucy has somehow gotten the idea that Natsu is incapable of romance so in this story, Natsu somehow learns about her misconception and it makes him feel uncomfortable for some reasons. But he doesn't quite realise what he feels so he chooses to not think much about it. Meanwhile Lucy decides that she needs to put some boundary in their relationship since it's painful for her to confine her own feelings. I'm implying the regular physical contact between them(cuddles, sleeping in one bed, close proximity). She doesn't wanna ruin their precious friendship for the sake of her supressed emotions. Hence she slowly starts trying to move on, which she can't. Natsu finds it all too confusing and frustrating. He can't bring himself to imagine someone else with Lucy.

And I'm a big Gratsu brotp fan, Gray gets what's going on and helps out Natsu. You can write their convo as per your choice! Finally Natsu understands and in the end, talks to Lucy.

Hope you can finish it soon!

Time To Talk [NaLu]

an: Hi Anon! Firstly, I am so sorry it has taken me this long to get around to writing this for you!! Secondly, this is my first ever ask on tumblr so I hope I've done okay? I didn't anticipate it would turn out this long, and to be fair I probably could have made it longer but I reined myself in! XD

pairing: Natsu Dragneel x Lucy Heartfilia

warnings: SFW, fluff, angst, Natsu is oblivious, Gray is a good friend, just wholesome feelings being discovered, lil fight between ice and fire, injuries and a lil blood

Masterlist

A dull ache added to each beat of his heart. He didn’t understand it, why did it hurt? Rubbing the spot on his chest where his heart lay beneath, he frowned and replayed the conversation he had overheard, although he was sure he was not meant to.

“You don’t get it Mira, Natsu, he – he just isn’t capable of feeling the way I do. It hurts but I have to put a halt to this before I drown in my own misery.”

Natsu had pondered those words for the past few days, puzzling over what exactly Lucy had been trying to say and coming up with a big fat nothing. True indeed that the Fire Dragon Slayer was more than a little dense, but when it came to matters of the heart, he was simply inexperienced.

Entirely unaccustomed to emotions more complex than happiness, sadness, anger, fear and familial love, it was not surprising that he chose to ignore the pang in his heart whenever his hand brushed against Lucy’s. Oblivious to why his stomach flitted nervously with enormous bat-like moths whenever they were parted, which gave way to ticklish wing strokes of dainty butterflies when they were finally reunited.

He knew that Lucy meant more to him than the rest of his beloved Fairy Tail family, but when he tried to define it, he couldn’t. It was like the words were stuck fast in his throat, choking him until he was blue in the face and it was maddening for the poor boy.

It was dragging him down, making him grumpy and abrasive to those around him.

His callous roughened hands curled into tight fists, eyeing the prominent veins that stood proud against his tanned skin and wished for a good brawl. A fight with someone that could take his intensity, absorb his flames and throw back an equal amount of power. Something, anything to take his mind off this problem that he had no idea how to even start to unravel – let alone resolve.

Gray!

Ruffling his vividly pink hair, he grinned his signature toothy grin but it was not full of good humour this time, oh no, he had come up with a plan to hopefully squash all thought of Lucy’s words out of his head. If he could not solve the problem, he would knock it from his head and who better to engage in a physical smackdown than Gray Fullbuster.

He just had to go find him…

Lucy sighed.

This was harder than she had anticipated. She had meant what she said to Mira, it was more than time that she place some boundaries on her ‘relationship’ with Natsu. Could you even call it a relationship? Honestly, she didn’t know at this point.

It felt wrong to say it was only a friendship; it wasn’t normal for a male and female to share a bed more often than they slept separately. To wake up in the mornings entwined in limbs that did not belong to their own body, basking in the bodily heat that the other provided in a way that spoke much more than a platonic friendship.

Lucy felt the safest when she was physically touching Natsu, innocent enough with hands that brushed against one another until that alone had not been enough. The contact evolved into quick hugs and then into arms that remained draped around shoulders and waists long past the point that would seem appropriate.

The last thing she wished to do was jeopardise the friendship that they did have, she would box up her own swelling feelings for her precious Salamander, and swallow them down. A bitter pill indeed, but it would be for the best. How long she could have gone on pining for someone that she was confident would never return her feelings, she wasn’t sure, but it was best not to find out.

Yet, it was like dying a thousand deaths when she bore witness to the mixture of hurt and confusion that etched upon his face when she denied him entry to her bed. Forced him to curl up on her sofa instead, a sofa that was much too small to contain his hulking mass but it was either that or the floor.

The scrunch above the bridge of his nose, sharp eyebrows drawn low into a frown and his lips tipped down as if he had tasted something unpleasant on his tongue. It hurt, every intimate detail that she noted was an individual agony, but she resolved to follow through.

It’s for the best…

Lucy tried to remind herself of this fact in the dead of the night; listening to the ferocious draconic snores of the Dragon Slayer in the next room. Sleep refused to come to her, dancing around her restless form that was much too small within this bed. Her fingers grabbed for the pillow that Natsu used, dragging it to her chest and nuzzling her face into the downy soft material. Inhaling that all too familiar scent of campfires that tickled her nose in the most addicting way and letting the tears fall freely.

Why couldn’t you love me like I love you, Natsu?

“What you staring at Ice Princess?”

Gray turned to spot an agitated looking Natsu. He cocked an eyebrow, watching intently as the pink haired idiot smacked his fists together until they ignited. The flames wreathed his hands, dancing their ritualistic war dance along his skin until they reached his muscled shoulders.

This was getting excessive now.

The Ice Mage was used to bouts of aggression with Natsu, the pair of them always keen to square off and prove who was the better mage, but this smacked of something else entirely. Barely a day went by without the two of them being dragged apart by Erza, and on one occasion, even Master Makarov had intervened.

Something was wrong, he could sense it like an approaching thunderstorm. The air was as thick as molasses, sticky on the skin and dragging the oxygen from the lungs until they burned.

His eye twitched as Natsu bumped into his chest with his own, their forehead inches from colliding and then he noticed it. The faint purplish colour under the Salamander’s blazing obsidian eyes, the near-constant grind of his sharp jaw and the sadness that he was trying to mask with his aggression.

Gray had known that Lucy was not her usual self either. Similar to how Natsu appeared, she was tired and often close to tears over apparently nothing. He was a smart man and putting two and two together, the answer was clear enough. Things were not as rosy as they normally were between the princess and her dragon. He would get to the bottom of this, but first, a good beat down sounded like fun.

He played along with the pathetic lure that Natsu had baited him with, knowing that the fiery male would be more willing to open up if he were to be physically exhausted.

“Staring at a pathetic piece of shit, that’s what!”

The fists flew in a flurry of movement; connecting with steely jaws and hardened stomachs. Ice met fire, the opposing elements engaging in a battle of their own. Fireballs flew in every direction, Natsu was getting sloppy in his technique and it worried Gray. He had to bring this to a close quickly.

“Ice Make – Ice Geyser” the raven haired male roared.

He leapt back as the ground around Natsu erupted with deadly looking ice spikes. His opponent managed to dodge the worst of them, as he had predicted he would, but he was not at his best. Ice wrapped around his left ankle and quickly coursed up his leg until he was immobilised from the waist down on one side.

Natsu panted heavily, his chest heaving with every breath he took and a nasty swelling already blooming over his right eye from an uppercut that Gray had landed earlier in the fight. A trickle of blood oozed from his cut brow and bathed the side of his face in blood. Cuts around the eye always had the worst way of making it look so much worse than it actually was.

“Feeling better?” Gray asked as he slowly melted the ice to free his friend.

The pink haired male fell to his knees and then back onto his butt. He pulled his knees up to his chest and linked his arms around his thighs whilst his cheek rested atop. Gray dropped to the dusty ground, giving Natsu enough space to not feel crowded but close enough to reassure him that he was willing to listen.

“Not really man,” came the quiet reply.

Manifesting a small lump of ice, he wrapped it in his discarded top and offered it to the Dragon Slayer.

“Something wrong with you and Lucy? I was sure you guys were as solid as a rock…”

Natsu scoffed as he pressed the makeshift icepack to his swollen eye.

“You tell me, I – I just don’t know what has changed. If I’ve done or said something that I shouldn’t have. Fuck, I wanted to forget about this but I overheard a conversation between Lucy and Mira. I still don’t understand it but it won’t leave my head. I thought that beating it out would be best, but you can see how well that has worked.”

The words poured from his mouth like a dam bursting its banks. He pounded his bloodied fist against the ground, kicking up dirt and small pebbles under the intensity of his strength.

“What did she say?” Gray asked tentatively, not wishing to interrupt but needing more context than he had been given so far.

Natsu reiterated the words he had heard and Gray understood immediately. This was just like him, he couldn’t see what was right in front of his face. Oblivious wasn’t the right definition, for he knew it was there, more like overwhelmed and uncertain.

“Fucksake… Natsu.”

“What?! What the fuck am I missing here? Will someone just tell me?! I cannot stand the not knowing, it’s killing me and Lucy is drifting away from me and I don’t know why,” he yelled, his voice raw with pure unfiltered emotion.

Gray huffed through his nose as he pinched at the bridge to stem the headache that was fast blooming.

“Is Lucy your friend?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Of course she is!”

“Do you think that she could be more than a friend?”

A look of confusion descended on the portion of Natsu’s face that he could see, and Gray would swear he could see the cogs whirring and grinding in his brain as he scrambled to understand what that meant.

“Let me put it this way flamebrain, how would you feel if you were to walk in on me kissing Lucy? Like passionately kissing, my fingers tangled in her golden hair, pressing my-”

His words were cut off as the Dragon Slayer lunged from his throat.

Gray chuckled darkly as he managed to avoid being grabbed and shackling the enraged male with ice once more.

“Don’t like that thought do you?” he smirked.

“Bring your fucking face here right this second, I want to knock your damn teeth out!” Natsu roared like a feral beast. His face was as vividly pink as his hair, veins popping on his forehead as he strained against his bitterly cold restraints.

“Natsu, calm yourself.

“Listen, man, Lucy thinks that you do not see her as anything other than a friend, but given how you just reacted, I think it’s safe to say that your feelings are more than simply born of friendship. You need to talk to her, she is pushing you away to save her heart. I bet it is killing her to do so, and you need to stop it before it becomes irreparable. Understand?”

The dawn of comprehension was amusing to watch. The metaphorical light bulb moment seemed silly to imagine until it was basically happening in front of his eyes.

The walk along the canal that led Lucy towards the Fairy Tail guildhall was no longer a comfort, instead, her feet felt leaden. She knew he would be there, Natsu had left her apartment earlier in the morning and had not yet returned. Part of her wished to return to bed, to wrap herself tightly in the lingering scent of him on her bedsheets and stay there forever.

Her morose thoughts were interrupted as a blur of motion came barrelling towards her.

As if summoned by her thoughts alone, Natsu stood in front of her, out of breath and looking badly beaten up. The blonde gasped at the wound on his eyebrow and the eye that was practically swollen shut.

“Natsu! What happened? Do you need me to find-”

Time stood still as he interrupted her words to pull her into a tight bear hug. Her feet dangled and for a moment she didn’t know how to react. It didn’t last long as her arms hooked around his neck and she squeezed him in return.

A wealth of tears sprung from her eyes as she lost herself within his embrace, how she had missed this. Lucy buried her face into the soft fabric of his scarf, the intense scent of him filling her to capacity as she let the barricades come tumbling down.

Her heart was in ruins, and she knew right then that she would never be able to stuff these feelings down ever again. She didn’t know what this would mean for their future, and it hurt her to think of having to physically move away to find any semblance of closure or peace.

“Luce,” he mumbled into her hair.

She gasped as she realised he too was inhaling her scent, one hand spearing into her blonde hair, holding her to him as the other crushed her torso to his own.

At long last they parted, her feet once again kissed the ground and she hesitantly met his gaze.

“We’ve gotta talk Luce, let’s go home.”

#delirious writes #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu #nalu fluff #fairy tail fanfiction #fairy tail #natsu x lucy #gray fullbuster

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its-deputy-caleb · 3 years

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Hey! I just love how you write and characterize the lords and if you're taking requests i was wondering if i could do one of my own. It's be basically how the other lords would react to finding out you were datibg one of them.

Hii, thank you for requesting this! it’s been a very busy and stressful day and this really helped me unwind! It’s gender neutral and i put it all in a little scenario for everyone to enjoy!

Alcina Dimitrescu

You knew that when you invited the other three lords over to Castle Dimitrescu for dinner that there may be some shocked faces sitting around you.

It was finally the night that you and Alcina were going to announce that you were dating to her other siblings. Her daughters of course had already welcomed you into their home and looked up to you.

Alcina sat at the head of the table, you to her side as she placed her hand in yours and raised a glass in the air, Daniela tapping her knife against her glass in order to clear the room.

“My dearest, and not so dearest siblings, tonight we dine with a special occasion in mind… and so I would like to formally announce to you all that we’re dating.”

She finishes her toast by saluting Heisenberg who looks like he’s just about choked on his fork when he sees Alcina hold your hand up and kiss your knuckles.

Angie screeches with excitement which breaks the silence of the room, jumping for joy as Donna claps her hands, the two clearly very happy for you both.

Moreau is nothing but supportive, if not a little sad as couples make him fell that much lonelier but he can’t stop the smile on his face from seeing you two together.

Karl pretends like he’s not happy for his sister, keeping up the playful banter the two share and whines about not wanting to attend any weddings or think about gifts.

“Oh hush, you man-thing. You’re just jealous, nothing more.”

Everyone in the room chuckles and Karl holds up his glass to salute the two of you in return, very happy for the both of you but won’t show it.

Meanwhile Daniela, Cassandra and Bela internally cringe when they see their mother lean over and kiss your cheek while waiting for desert.

“EWW mother! that’s gross!”

Donna Beneviento

She’s very terrified to tell her siblings about you, always anxious about what other people think about her.

However, you stand for none of that and pull her into a tight hug, assuring her that no matter what you’ll always love her.

After Miranda ended a family meeting and only the siblings remained, you cleared your throat to get the Lords attention.

Before you can even open your mouth to explain yourself Angie comes rushing around the corner with a huge grin on her face.

“THEY’RE DATING!! Aren’t they adorable?! You better think they’re adorable!”

Angie’s chaotic energy fills the room as she bounces from overly excited that she announced your relationship and threatening anyone that would think otherwise.

Donna waves her hand and Angie is summoned back to where she sits on her forearm. Your hand reaches down and takes her other hand that’s sitting by her side. Your fingers slot together perfectly as her slightly shaking and sweaty hands hold onto yours for dear life.

Alcina gives one of her large toothy grins, accentuated by her vibrant red lipstick.

“I must host a ball for the two of you at once!”

Moreau is slightly creeped out by Angie’s still very threatening stare but his smile is genuine as he beams at the two of you.

He’s super excited and definitely starts thinking of ways he can be a wingman to your relationship like planning dates, making gifts and maybe fishing out an old camera.

Karl having been rather close to you and Donna can’t be more happy for you both, especially Donna who he’s recently rekindled his friendship with.

He wraps her in a tight hug with his arms around her shoulder as he ruffles part of her hair.

“I’m really happy for you two, but don’t expect any of the sappy tears cause you ain’t getting any of it!”

Salvatore Moreau

It took a lot of failed attempts to get Salvatore to walk through the church’s door with his hand in yours.

After much trial and error, he’s finally ready to announce to his siblings about your relationship.

When you first walk in together, everyone is mildly shocked, you had been keeping it a secret for a while.

Alcina takes a long drag from her cigarette and points at your hands together, a smile breaking out on her face.

“It seems you’ve been busy Salvatore, I thought you never left that mine of yours but it seems I have been pleasantly surprised. I must say I am happy for you both.”

Pretty soon after, Angie comes running up to you and tugs on your leg. You look down at her as she jumps up and down with joy.

“Does that mean we’re like siblings now, you’re our in-law now!! You have to come and see the dolls Donna made! Ooh she can make you a doll for you and Sal!”

Heisenberg’s shock gets turned into bubbly laughter as he pats Salvatore on the back and looks over to you, excited as ever.

“I hope you’ve learnt how to get used to his nightly cheese obsession. I don’t know how you do it.”

You know he’s just being playful but deep down he’s still happy for the two of you in your relationship.

Eventually Mother Miranda arrives and you take your seat next to Salvatore, giving his shoulder a nudge and a playful wink as you hold his hand under the pew.

Karl Heisenberg

Karl has two moods when he thinks about announcing your relationship to his siblings.

It always varies between not giving a shit about what they say, being too tough to take criticism or rejection; ready to ignore whoever had something bad to say and completely freaking out that it could find its way back to Mother Miranda and be used against you both.

When you finally confide him to put down his tools, stump the cigar out and go over to his siblings and tell them he’s already boarder line freaking out.

The Lords stand at the ceremony cite, confused as to why they’ve been summoned without Miranda.

You stand there waiting for Karl to say something, as he stares back at you, pleading behind his glasses. You groan and face his siblings.

“Ugh fine i’ll do it you drama queen. EVERYONE! Karl and I are dating, there I said it for you!”

Alcina is the first to respond, cracking up with laughter as she sees her brother all embarrassed over such a small thing. She can’t deny that she’s happy for you and has known for a while that you were at least sweet on each other.

There have been many times where she’s caught you both staring at each other during family meetings or events and even heard whispers from the Duke about you both spending a lot of time together. Now her suspicions have been confirmed.

“My Dear, how you can stand him is beyond my knowledge but if he makes you happy then I welcome you into our family. Officially.”

Salvatore is beyond happy that you and Karl are together, knowing in some ways that the two of them are similar and have a habit of staying locked away in their respective domains without socialising with many people. So for him to hear that Karl finally found someone, he’s absolutely thrilled.

And Donna, well she’s so happy for the both of you. Both her and Angie love spending time with you and now that they’ve heard about your relationship she wants nothing more than to have lunch and talk for hours as you tell her all the little quirks about heisenberg that no one gets to see but you.

Soon all four lords make their way over to the Duke to get some lunch and any other supplies they might need. The whole time you hand is wrapped around Karl’s arm and you reach over to place a kiss on his cheek as he leans into you.

#karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #salvatore moreau #salvatore moreau x reader #resident evil village #resident evil headcanons #resident evil 8 #resident evil #asks #prompt

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planetsano · 3 years

Text

everyone finds out you two are dating.

SYNOPSIS: Class 1A find out you're in a relationship with some of your favorite MHA boys.

TAGS: established relationships, secretly dating, social media, making out, date night, sitting on kirishima's lap, fluff, slice of life.

CHARACTERS: bakugou katsuki, eijirou kirishima, todoroki shoto, kaminari denki, izuku midoriya

— bakugou

Everyone finds out you two are dating when he accidentally posts a video of you captioned, "this idiot 🧡", on his snapchat story.

It was a Saturday night and you both decided that it would be nice to spend the night in enjoying each other's company. Obviously you told your friends that you would be busy studying but in reality you were actually with each other.

You were on his bed wearing one of his ridiculously oversized hoodies. Admittedly, he thought you looked cute. You had sweater paws like c'mon. He wanted to save the memory.

(Contrast to popular belief, Bakugou is capable of being a cute boyfriend sometimes. He's just rough around the edges, ya'know?)

When you looked up from your switch you saw your boyfriend recording you with a smirk on his face.

"Stop, I look ugly." You whined and hid your face behind your handheld game.

"No, you don't. Shut up." He scoffed.

"Make me." You stuck your tongue out and flipped him off.

"What do you want anyway, stinky?" You asked resuming your animal crossing gameplay.

"Show me your shitty island." He said.

"Really?!" You looked up at him again with your face lit up in excitement.

"Sike, no." He deadpanned behind the camera.

"I hate you!" You whined & jumped on him starting a play fight. The video was cut with a shaky camera & couple of your giggles.

After about maybe a minute of roughhousing, Bakugou's phone started to blow up with texts, snaps, and facetime calls.

"Someone's popular." You said while looking up at him. He pinned you down easily since he had a physical strength advantage over you.

You were curious as to why his phone was blowing up so suddenly but you were too entertained by squeezing his surprisingly squishy cheeks.

While you did that, Bakugou grabbed his phone. The facial recognition automatically unlocking it for him.

"The fuck?" Was all he said scrolling through all the notifications. He was confused.

One text in particular out of 64 unread stood out to him. It was from "Mina 👽", and it said:

"No but really, did you mean to post (Name) on your story? 💀🤚🏾 I knew you guys were going to date at some point!!"

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

— midoriya

This man Midoriya is terrible at secrets. So it didn't surprise you when he accidentally spilled the tea about your relationship.

It all started when Uraraka, Momo, Iida and Todoroki asked him if he wanted to join them for dinner that night. Apparently they were treating themselves to something fancy.

"I'm sorry guys. I can't. I have a date with (Name) tonight." Midoriya doesn't even give what he said a second thought.

Everyone literally stops. "Date? 🤨"

"Yeah. I have a date... with...." Realization hits. "You know what? I've really gotta go guys! See ya!" This boy tries to run but they stop him so fast.

They have so many questions. The main being when exactly did you guys become an official thing and why didn't they know about it.

Midoriya tells them that he's not sure if he feels comfortable without you being there to answer all the questions they have since they weren't even supposed to know to begin with.

They're all understanding and don't push him any further. He's already embarrassed enough. The most important thing is that they're happy for the both of you.

Now the only thing on Midoriya's mind was how to tell you he told half the friend group you two are dating over dinner.

— todoroki

You both really thought no one would catch you guys sharing a "quick" makeout session in the kitchen area.

It was risky to begin with because it was like 9pm on a weekend and more than half the class was still awake roaming around the building.

But honestly, neither of you could help it. You were at that point in the relationship where you just couldn't keep your hands off of each other.

Plus that little adrenaline and dopamine you got from pulling little stunts like this made it all the more fun. It was you guys' little secret. It was fun.

You were sat on the kitchen counter with Todoroki standing between your legs. His hands were placed on your thighs mindlessly kneading at them while your arms were lazily draped around his neck.

"Sho, I really wanna kiss.." You said softly.

"The others might come in soon, love." His voice was so smooth. He really didn't want to tell you no but you guys were already pushing it in this position.

"Just one tiny little kiss?" You gestured the words tiny and little with your thumb and pointer finger. "Pretty please?" You pouted playfully and batted your eyelashes at him.

Todoroki mentally sighed in defeat. He just couldn't say no to you.

With that you two shared a simple kiss, then another just a little longer... and the last kiss turned into a full blown makeout. You didn't know how much time passed before you both heard a forced cough.

You guys pulled away and looked at this kitchen area's entrance to see Denki, Kirishima, Tokoyami and Asui.

Denki: "Care to tell us when UA became Love Island?"

Kirishima: "Aw, come on guys. The counter?"

— kirishima

Honestly, this pairing is bold because you two fully outted yourselves out willingly.

1A decided to have a movie night in the common area one Friday night. It would be some fun considering training and classes were particularly hard that week. It would be nice to blow off some steam and goof off.

You were a little late coming down from your room because you had to finish up some important papers your work study requested.

When you finally got down to the common room, everyone had already claimed their seats.

Kirishima sat at the end of one couch and the spot next to him was already taken :(

Through 1A's chaos and chatter, you locked eyes with him and pouted subtly.

Just when you were about to sit on one of the empty pillows on the floor, Kirishima beckoned you over with his head and patted his thighs.

He gives you a wide toothy grin when he sees you walk your cute self right over to him to plop yourself right on his lap.

"Hey." He looks up at you with a goofy smile while he wraps one of his arms around your waist.

"Hi." You smiled at him and ran your fingers through his hair. He had it down which was your absolute favorite. You guys didn't even notice the chatter die down until

"Um.. are you guys dating?" Midoriya asked carefully. The whole room silently thanking him for being the one to ask.

"Huh? Oh yeah, totally! I'm her/his/their man!" Kirishima smiled widely and gave a triumphant fist in the air.

*cue Denki, Mina, Sero, & Bakugou angry (but supportive ❤️) at you guys for not telling them*

— denki

Okay, this one is pretty funny.

Behind closed doors, Denki made it a habit to quickly kiss your lips before you two part ways. For example, when he leaves your dorm to sneak back to his, he gives you a quick peck before he leaves.

Everyone engaged in their own separate conversations waiting for class to begin.

Denki was sitting on your desk while you sat normally in your chair. Mina, Sero, Kirishima and Bakugou were gathered around holding a conversation about the homework that was due today and how it was harder than usual.

"Alright, everyone to your seats." Aizawa said as he walked into the classroom. Everyone audibly sighed and sulked back to their seats.

"I'll see you after class, babe." Denki as he leaned down to give you a quick kiss on the lips.

Now...

It only registered until after he pulled away from you that he kissed you in front of everyone.

You guys just stared at each other like "😀"

1A: 🤨🧐🤭

Aizawa: 🧍🏻🗿

"I don't care what you guys do outside of class.. but PDA isn't allowed in the classroom."

Yes, Aizawa put y'all on blast and if you weren't already embrassed, you are now.

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quietmyfearswith · 3 years

Text

needy little ; preferences

warnings — DDLG, swearing, mentions of longing/missing someone, mentions of leaving someone, teasing??

characters — dark!andy barber, dark!steve rogers, dark!ransom drysdale, dark!bucky barnes, dark!lance tucker, dark!clark kent, dark!syverson, dark!august walker

a/n — THIS IS FIC WITH DDLG DYNAMICS,, do not interact if youre not 18+,, finally??? a new fic???? oh my god im sorry, i may be a bit rusty..

tagging — @la-cey @doozywoozy @melancholyy-hill @pedropcl @beck07990 @isysen @anna-bailey @briefnerdwobblerpainter

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After placing two scoops of the chocolate ice cream on the cone, Y/N lifted her head up to look at her daddy who sported a scowl on his face as he was drumming a pen in between his fingers as he tried to piece together the facts of the case. Normally, she wouldn’t be allowed so close to Andy as he was working, but given how needy she had been all morning — despite sitting right by his feet wasn’t enough for her — she promised to remain well-behaved and quiet for him so he gave her the green light to go ahead and stay with hi as she played with her scoop and learn toy set. Silently putting down her cone by the ice cream trolley, she moved towards his leg and when he didn’t move or acknowledge her, she clung her arms around his calf as her cheek snuggled up against his shin. “What?” Feeling something cling around his lower leg snapped him right out of his focused trance as his confusion easily melted into adoration as he peered down and saw his girlfriend curled up against him. “My petal’s quite needy today isn’t she?” “Sorry dada,” She said lowly as her fingers drummed rhythmically against his clothed leg, “Was behaved and nice.” Nodding, he then bent and carried her to sit on his lap. She squealed excitedly as she then wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her face in his neck, “Wuv you, dada.” Humming, he rubbed her back soothingly as he looked into her eyes, “Need to hold dada huh?” The smile that formed on her lips was a toothy grin that was the attorney’s favorite sight in the whole world. “Want to hold you so much, dada; ‘m sorry,” She pouted at the thought of him being disappointed at her; sensing the drop of her mood, he then cooed and peppered kisses all over her face, feeling his prickly beard graze her skin prompted her to erupt in a fits of giggles as she loved the affection that he was showering her with. “This what you needed, my little petal?” He asked her in his gentle, playful tone as she nodded and snuggled herself against his chest as she toyed with his large fingers, “Mhm, love you so much, dada.”

“Hello?” August answered the phone call with a frown — Y/N was never one to call her boyfriend when he had missions that required him to go undercover and/or while he had overseas operations; so it was alarming that she called him he thought of only the worst possible scenarios. “Hi, daddy,” She sniffled out into the phone — part of her was relieved she got to hear his voice, but really she just longed to be with him. “What’s wrong, little one?” He furrowed his eyebrows as he impatiently tapped his fingers against the steering wheel; she let out a sigh before admitting, “Miss you, daddy. So sad without you.” Despite feeling pain on the field of his job, the sound of her small and vulnerable voice was the most painful thing he ever had to hear or endure. “Little one, have you been good for me?” She nodded against her phone as she hugged the Cinnamoroll stuffie that had a shirt specifically sewn on for the stuffie which had the words “daddy’s little one” embroidered on it, “I do, daddy. Miss your kisses and hugs so much.” As he parked his car in front of their yard he smirked as he answered her, “Well who knows when I’ll get back right?” He was positive that there was a pout on her lips as she thought of the likelihood that she was going to be alone for a while, “But daddy I miss you already!” Her whine was so loud that she didn't hear the way August opened up their front door and walked to the living room where she was lying in the couch; he ended the call and he could see her slumping down her shoulders from behind before jumping down beside her and hugging her, “Well good thing daddy’s home now, yeah?” She let out a shrilling shriek in excitement as she kissed his bearded cheeks repeatedly, “I missed you so much, daddy! Promise I was the goodest girl for you!”

“How are your chicken tenders, sweetie?” Bucky asked after pressing a kiss on her forehead; they were out to dinner with Sam and his girlfriend, Leila — who like her was a little too. After the two bonded over the activity paper the server handed to them, they both munched down on their meal. “So yummy, tătic! But,” She trailed off as she looked around nervously. After drinking down a chunk of his beer then looked at him with worry written on his face, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Without a word, she snuggled close to his side right as she tangled her arms around his metal arm before looking up at him with doting eyes, “All better, tătic!” Slightly picking up on what she was up to, he grabbed another chicken and tapped it on her lips; she moaned lowly when he fed her then snuggled up more to his arm. “Need my touch, don’t you sweetheart?” Shyly, she nodded as she played with his fingers, “Always want you close to me.” Sam and Leila were both busy being all snuggled up too so Bucky repeatedly, sweetly kissed her lips before telling her, “How ‘bout we take a bath later, sweetie?” Extremely thrilled with the idea of spending tub time with her daddy, she nodded too much that little chunks of the chicken she was eating escaped her mouth as she expressed her liking of his idea, “So excited for that, tătic! Can we go home now and bathe together?” Chuckling at the small mess she made, he wiped the sides of her mouth with a napkin then kissed her forehead, “Only a few more minutes before we can bath together, sweetie.”

“Into the tub you go, doll,” Steve sing-songed as he gently placed Y/N into the bathtub that was filled with warm water and soapy bubbles. She giggled as she felt the warm water graze her skin. For a while, she was busying herself with playing and blowing the bubbles; after a while, she was craning her neck to look for Steve, “Sir? Where are you?” A pout was now formed onto her lips that earlier was stretched out into a smile. The super soldier was in their shared bedroom preparing what she was going to wear after her bath when he heard her distressed call for him. Entering their ensuite bathroom the skin of his forehead wrinkled up as he approached her and kneeled down by the tub, “What’s wrong, doll?” A small amount of water splashed onto him when she crossed her arms, “Want you, sir.” Not fully understanding what she meant, he brought a hand to caress her back — as if to coax her into explaining as he said, “I am here, doll. What do you want?” “Want you here, sir,” Unclasping her arms from where they were crossed, she dropped her arms in the bubbly water and pouted at him. Nodding in understanding, he then stood up; hearing her whimper in need made him chuckle a bit, “I’m just gonna remove my clothes then join you in there okay, doll?” Gone was the frown that earlier donned her face for she now had a wide grin as she clapped when Steve slowly dipped in the tub, careful as to not spill water out of the tub. Once he was fully seated in the tub, his doll then moved over to him and hugged him tight, “Love you, sir.” Placing her on his lap, he then kissed the top of her head as he tried to calm his beating heart, “I love you too, doll. Now, how ‘bout we clean you up with your favorite shampoo hm?”

“Where you bringing me, baby girl?” Sy wondered out loud as he allowed his nearly 200 pound self to be whisked away. It was unusual of her to remain this quiet; for some her whining and blabbering would be annoying, but the Texan captain loved how verbal she was especially since it served as a constant reminder about how much he was needed by her. Upon being brought to the den of their house that served as the office, he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he gently stroked her back, hoping to coax out an answer out of her, “What are we gonna in the office, baby?” She pointed to the landline phone and to the stuffed animal that arrived defective a few days ago. “You want me to make a call?” He asked and she nodded with a wide smile. “Why can’t you make the call?” The question was asked out of curiosity, but with the way she batted her eyelashes and bit her lip bashfully had him worried. A small smile graced his face when she opened her mouth, but she quickly closed it and instead grabbed a pen and paper. Sitting down on the swivel chair, he patiently waited for her to finish jotting down her message. When she was done, she shyly slid over the paper to him and once he read it the words broke his heart, “My voice is ugly. Who said this, baby girl?” Shrugging her shoulders she fiddled with her fingers but he placed her on his lap which allowed him to gently stroke her thighs, “Come on, baby girl, please talk to me? I miss hearing your pretty voice.” As if to prove his point, his beard tickled her skin as he pressed kisses on her throat; she giggled as her hands pushed his wide chest away and cleared her throat, “Some guy said my voice is too deep for a girl.” Sy’s jaw clenched in anger at the person who disrespected his girl’s feature; a thick finger of his hooked under her chin to make her look at him, “Listen to me, okay? Don’t listen to the meanie who said that. Your voice is beautiful and lovely, just like the rest of you.” Biting the inside of her mouth, she then looked up at him with teary eyes; he was about to question as to why she was tearing up when she wrapped her arms tight around his neck as she peppered kisses on his bearded cheek, “Thank you, daddy. Needed that reminder.”

“Papa?” Y/N groggily called out as she rubbed the sleep away from her eyes and looked to the side of the bed; she frowned when she noticed that the gold medalist wasn’t occupying the earlier spot he claimed. Grabbing for the first stuffed toy he had given her in her arms, she made her way off their bed and checked their walk-in-closet and ensuite bathroom — and was displeased when he wasn’t there. There were two other bedrooms and a bathroom on the upper floor and all three areas did not house her loving boyfriend. “Where are you?” She was now close to crying as she headed down the stairs. Upon hearing noise coming from their dining room, she then skipped over there and was shocked to see him wearing his USA jacket and was faced in front of a laptop. “Well I have to say that my biggest motivation has to be my loving girlfriend,” Just as he said the last word he shot Y/N a sincere smile, patting her lap — motioning for her to sit on it. Thankful that she wasn’t wearing her little pajamas and instead fell asleep wearing one of his sweatshirts, she shyly sat on his lap and was surprised to see that the accomplished gymnast was being interviewed, “And she just pushes me to be the best I can be, in all aspects.” At the compliment, she shyly waved at the interviewer. “Well that is all the time we have. Thank you so much Lance Tucker for gracing us with your presence and introducing us to your lovely girl too.” Lance’s computer screen faded into his screensaver of the two of them — the gymnast kissing her cheek as she smiled wide into the camera. “Woke up without you and was so scared, papa.” Her confession had his heart hurting a bit but he cuddled her and explained, “I’m sorry, angel. I had an interview and you looked so adorable while you sleep that I didn’t want to wake you.” At his explanation, her little mind was able to understand it and nodded, “Promise to never leave me?” His reply was instant, “My greatest nightmare would be leaving you. I love you so much, angel,” For the only thing he has ever been sure of in his entire life was that she was going to be with her for the rest of their days together.

As much as Ransom and Y/N enjoyed summer, the bright sunny days allowed them to stroll around the different sights and go on long road trips across the state — even the country if the only Thrombey child wasn’t feeling lazy. “Princess, have you packed your clothes already?” He asked from the main floor of his house as he zipped up his duffle bag after checking once again that he had packed the necessary garments for their three-day stay in the high-end resort Ransom got them a booking to. “King, can you come here please?” The man that was called for had to chuckle as he made his way up the stairs, heading for their bedroom because he could practically sense that she was pouting as she called for him. “Princess, everything alright with you?” Seeing her kneeling down in front of her suitcase with a wide array of clothing articles spread all around her. Shaking her head, she crossed her arms as her lips formed a pout, “Need king to help me pack.” Wrapping his arms around her and placing her on his lap, he kissed the side of her neck, “My little princess needs help packing her clothes?” Snuggling against his chest, she nodded as she slipped her thumb into her mouth, “King packs my clothes better.” Having her in his lap as he was folding some of her clothes then placing it on her matching suitcases didn’t pose as a challenge for him; in fact he loved the thought of her being all small that she needed him. “Such a helpless, needy little thing you are hm?” Even though he was partially joking, she took it seriously but was not offended by it, “Just want my king near me at all times, please.” After zipping up her bags once they have been filled with all the clothes she was probably going to use during their stay there, he simply kissed her cheek and gently pat her thighs, “Well king’s not going anywhere without his pretty princess. Now let’s go on our vacation, okay?”

“Where are you, bubba?” Y/N pouted as she rubbed her hands on her arms as she stood by the balcony in their apartment. Her phone was in one of the pockets of the bathrobe she was wearing, and when she grabbed for it, she searched on Twitter for Superman. A sad smile graced her lips when she read about him being currently in a different country, aiding citizens who were currently suffering a forest fire in their location. Locking her phone, she then moved towards the door and before fully going in and locking the door behind her she looked up in the sky with hopeful eyes, “Please come home soon, bubba.”

Removing the robe from her body, she rested it by her dresser then crawled under the covers as she hugged the pillow Clark often laid down on when they slept together. A gush of strong wind blew past her and before she could even process what it was or see it properly, she was faced with a freshly showered Clark who was smiling and laying down beside her, “Hi, bubba. I’m home.” Her cheeks hurt from smiling so wide as she kissed his lips repeatedly and excitedly. “I’m so happy you’re home, bubba! I missed you so damn much.” She moaned out in pleasure when his arms opened wide and cuddled her close and warm into his chest. Pressing a kiss on the top of her head, he then rubbed her back soothingly, “I know, bubba. I heard you.” hearing those words, she hid her face deeper into his chest, not having the guts to look up at him. With a cheeky grin, he reassured her, “ And don’t worry, I’ll be all yours this weekend. There’s no way I will be neglecting my precious bubba.”

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harrieatthemet · 3 years

Text

Mustache

He has never been keen on sharing.

And Gemma’s mere existence, as well as the small indent on her left thumb she swears is a scar (though Harry vehemently denies it is), is living proof.

Mr Ducky was his favorite bath time companion for a good bulk of his childhood. There were even times he’d carry it around with him in the house tied to a string like a pet, one of Anne’s fondest memories and favorite stories to tell whenever she found the opportunity.

Maybe it was Gemma’s own fault; she was only six at the time and was foolishly under the impression that the stupid rubber toy was at anyone’s disposal, which is what led her to try and situate the duck in her backpack as she geared up for school.

It’s also what led her to tears because Harry caught her on the way out the front door, Mr Ducky in tow, and he instinctively sunk his teeth right into the side of her hand in protest. And, okay fine, he may have bit down a little harder than he should have, but the overall message he was sending came across very clear. Gemma never touched anything he owned again for a very, very, long time; and eventually went on to tell everyone in her class she had a vampire as a brother.

“What do we think of this little number,” your hip jut, innocent as it was, just now became a permanent memory in Harry’s brain, “too much, like.. revealing?”

You like nice in red; devilish, even, and in the best way possible. There’s nothing revealing about the dress at all. Somehow, though, he finds himself perched squeamishly at the foot of your bed in complete fucking anguish. In theory, no, the dress is not too much. It’s the perfect ensemble and flatters you so well he feels like whoever made the dress conjured it up with you specifically in mind.

And no, it’s not too much, for literally anyone else except him. How is such a modest dress enough for him to think you up the way he is right now; bent over in front of him with your hair wrapped tightly up in his palm while that dress lays in a sloppy ball by his feet.

“Would be nice with nude shoes,” he mules, “like, those sandals y’ave, yeah?”

The way your eyes light up, that same way they always do when your mind starts to move at light’s speed as you start assembling a million different ideas into one, is enough to tug a grin onto his mouth.

He didn’t really want to agree to this. When you texted first to ask he ignored it, that way you’d have just carried on without him and he could blame a busy schedule or an overrun nap on his delayed response time. It’s much easier to blame a missed text for no response. Of course it’s not in your nature to send a text, and he knew that already. So it came a son surprise when he was bombarded by 4 phone calls. By the fifth one he had picked up, succumbing to you and just the flat out unfulfilled urge he had to hear your voice at the other end of the phone.

“Seriously Harry,” your voice is like fucking honey, sweet and sullen like it always is, and he’s in euphoria listening to it as you poke your earring through the lobe of your left ear, “it’s just, y’know I don’t- I’m nervous and I appreciate you helping me do something as stupid as picking a dress.”

“S’not stupid,” he reassures, “y’know I just like spending time with yeh, since y’so busy ’n stuff.”

Which is true. That’s the only thing that got him over here; and he rescheduled a zoom call just to sit in your bedroom for all of twenty minutes. Not one part of him regretted it, either.

“I’m busy?” You tease, “coming from the A lister who’s in London, than LA, than New York, London again, oh, than LA again oh, then ‘sorry love, m’in Tokyo.’”

Also true, he knows that, which is why he’s snickering at fault in response to your harmless teasing. He wouldn’t say it now, mainly because he doesn’t want to make it weird, but regardless of where he falls on the map he somehow still finds a way to fit you in. He’s never minded doing it, either.

Twenty minutes isn’t enough. Maybe another twenty more could be a sufficient amount. That’s almost an hour, right? Forty minutes is almost a full hour with you and he’d love to get even that much. Or twenty more hours, even, would be that much better. It’s better for him to think of getting more time with you than to let his thoughts wander and remind him of where you’re getting ready to go off to.

A date. It’s why he was so hesitant to come here. It’s hard enough as it is being a prisoner to his own thoughts, being around you and not getting to interact with you the way he actually wants; kiss you the way he wants, touch you the way he wants, hold you and talk to you the way he wants. Adding a new element to the mix, another man getting access to you the way he wants, well that’s just mental warfare.

You don’t know anything about though. And thank God, because if you could get a peak into his thoughts and see just a preview of what he thinks he almost knows for sure you’d ice him out in a heartbeat. He’s got a soft spot for you, nonetheless, which is why he swallowed the massive-sized lump in his throat when you told him you needed help on an outfit for a date and b lined it over to your place.

“Who’s this guy, anyways.” He chimes, following you similar to that of a lost puppy as you start heading towards the staircase, “Like, wha’s he look like ’n stuff.”

Immediately after he asks he wishes he hadn’t. The way that pesky fucking lump reappears when you wiggle your eyebrows in response, stuffing your hand into your leather purse in an attempt to fish out your phone. A simple response like ‘handsome’ or ‘he’s a nice guy’ would’ve sufficed for him. Seriously, that’s all he needed. What he didn’t need was an entire fucking slideshow of an above average looking guy. And he had a cool mustache, to boot, which really pissed Harry off for some reason.

“Should probably shave,” he squints his eyes at the photo you’ve got propped right in front of his face, trying his hardest to act like he isn’t so fucking jealous of that mustache, “kinda looks like a squirrel on his top lip."

“If I didn’t know you so well,” you tut teasingly, “I’d think you’re a dick.”

“You know me so well and still don’t think that?”

He likes the way your laugh sounds, and it makes him happy that he said something amusing enough to drag it out of you. And the toothy smile you pair with it practically knocks the wind right out of him. Everything you do seems to wow him, corny as it sounds. It makes him feel so at ease, and the butterflies he gets each time gets him reminiscing to the days where he was just a kid and had the worlds biggest crush on the girl who sat three rows ahead of him in grade school. He’s giddy and he doesn’t want you to leave for this date.

For a second he thinks about doing something elaborate; breaking his foot or faking an illness so that you literally have no choice but to hang back and look after him. That’s selfish though, and honestly just crazy and super fucked up, so he opts out of that. But he doesn’t want you to go so bad he seriously considers it, especially as you start sorting through the downstairs closet to find a coat that doesn’t clash with your shoes.

He could just be honest. He could just tell you that he doesn’t want you to go, solely because he’s absolutely infatuated with you and for every hour he’s awake and functioning you manage to consume every thought he has. He could just be an adult and tell you he’s got feelings for you that very much surpass a platonic, friendly demeanor. That might be a better way into persuading you to stay back with him than breaking his fucking foot.

“Ok now wait a minute,” he chokes, and there’s a painful twang that strikes his gut when you frown, “gotta tell y’somethin’.”

“What,” you groan, and he swears he would rather die right now than do anything else, “it’s the shoes, right? They make my calves look like I’m a running back don’t they?”

He wants to laugh but he thinks if he opens his mouth he would projectile vomit everywhere. But the thought occurs to him that if he does that than it would be an excellent excuse for you to skip the date. Though, of course, he runs the risk of grossing you out and absolutely humiliating himself all in one go of it.

So he shakes his head no. In fact he loves the shoes, and they make your ankles look slender and really compliment your legs quite nicely. Still, he’s scrambling to string together a coherent sentence because his brain is working a lot faster than the muscles in his mouth are and it feels like someone just super glued his lips shut.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace,” you tease, and the cheeky wink you shoot him over your shoulder just edges him even more if that’s possible at this point, “Styles.”

“I don’t want y’to go on this date, (Y/N).”

He’s well aware that he blurted that out in a way that he really, really, wish he hadn’t. Now the air in the room is stale and heavy, dense too, like someone just sucked all the air out and left the two of you here with nothing to inhale but words and unspecified tension.

And he’s starting to get more anxious as your playful manner dissipates. He can tell your puzzled not just be the demeanor of your face, but by the stance of your body because your letting shoulders hang the way you do when you’re a little uncomfortable.

“Oh,” you breath, and his chest starts sinking inward, “okay, I just- well why not? Do I not.. like, do I look bad or something?”

“No,” he coos, and he feels like the worlds biggest asshole when you start to frown, “No y’don’t- Christ, (Y/N) y’look amazing. Y’always look so fuckin’ amazing. It’s just-”

“What,” you huff, “than what is it, than? Why wouldn’t you want me to go?”

He’s really done it now. The proper thing to do would’ve just been to let you go, walk out with you and watch you drive off before he headed home himself. The proper thing to do would’ve been for him to just go home and think about you on a date with someone other than himself, curled up in a ball watching a Friends episode he’s already seen four times while he felt sorry for himself. But that’s not what happened, and what he should’ve done was just broke the fucking foot like he initially thought to do. That would’ve been less agonizing than this.

“Because,” he’s frustrated now, not with you but really just himself, “I should be taking y’out. M’absolutely in love with yeh, (Y/N), and I don’t have a cool mustache but I could take y’out on a date, ’n I want to so bad.”

There’s still that dense energy looming in the room, and his gut now too as he feels it winding up tightly in an anxious bundle of knots and twists. You’re not saying anything and the only thing he notices is that you’re breathing is vaguely staggered and your clutching onto that purse in your hand like he’s about to snatch it and run off. God, he should’ve just broken the foot!

“Please don’t go out wit him,” and now, his voice is small, “think it might kill me.”

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juletheghoul · 3 years

Text

Oblivius Chapter 4

Am I insane for posting another chapter? Yes. Am I doing it anyway? Yes. Should you message me about how you feel about Spills & Francis? YES!

(Got a song you want added to the playlist? send it to me!)

I've gotten so much love over this series and I cannot tell you how happy it makes me that you guys love these two idiots as much as I do. <3

(Feo means ugly in Spanish but it can be used as a term of endearment between [male] friends)

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Angst, yearning, 18+ language, alcohol (Spills gets wasted)(Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 3 Part 5 Playlist

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Age: 17

“No Francis I don’t wanna watch this - I’m gonna get scared.” It was late, you were both sitting in his cozy living-room, a big shit-eating grin on his face.

“Why, are you chicken? It’s just The Shining, it's not even scary.” He put it on and despite your protests, he settled and let the movie play, You gave him a pout.

“Okay if you really don’t want to I’ll change it you big baby.” He rolled his eyes to grab the remote but you stopped him.

“Promise you’ll walk me home?” You knew it was one of his favourites. He smiled wide.

“Of course! If it’s too much I'll change it.” He gave you most of the blanket that was draped over his legs and you sat very close to him. He was taller than you remembered him being, having gone through a growth spurt over the summer and he towered over you now. All knees and elbows.

When the room scene came on you burrowed your face into his neck and he wrapped an arm around you, you were so pretty. Your hair smelled so good and he buried his nose into the messy bun you wore. You practically clawed at him, trying to get closer - he made you feel safe.

“Is it still scary?” You spoke into his neck.

“Yes - don’t look yet, just a little longer.”

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**Present Day**

Pope was holding up a shot-glass full of something and there were shots lined up for the three of you when you walked in.

“Catfish, I never thought it would happen for you feo, but I’m glad it did. Claudia, he’s lucky to have you.” He raised his shot glass and a chorus of ‘To Frankie and Claudia’ rang out before everyone tipped the liquor back.

The burn in the back of your throat couldn’t just be from the tequila, you’d swallowed a lump. You’d forced back the tears stinging your eyes when he dipped her back to kiss her. With her laughing and grabbing his neck they were the picture of romance and the smile you had plastered to your face must have looked manic. Popes eyes caught yours then and his eyebrows raised, a question in his features that you couldn’t quite read but he looked away and left you with your thoughts.

You got very drunk. Fall-down drunk. Forget about everything drunk.

“Spills, I think you should stop - you’re going to feel like hell tomorrow.” He was softly taking the shot out of your hand and you tried to fight him but his grip was iron.

“St-op t-telling me wh-what to do Francisco.” You tried to take it back but it seemed like the floor was coming up to say hi. An iron grip around your middle stopped you from losing a couple of teeth.

“Jesus Spills, okay - that’s enough. I’m cutting you off.” He held onto you and you wanted nothing more than to turn around and kiss him but you also wanted to throw up. Decisions decisions.

“I-think-imgonnabesick…” you brought your hand up to your mouth and part of you expected him to let go but he didn’t.

“Take a deep breath, it’s okay, Pope can you get me some water?” He was holding onto you, rubbing soothing circles onto your back and you tried to focus on his hands on you as the whole room spun dangerously. A few minutes later he was holding a cold glass of water to your lips. “Drink the whole thing, I'm going to hold it because if you spill it I'll kill you.” You chugged it down and he put it on the table.

“When did you get so strong, Francis?” Your words were slurred and you felt his chest rumbling with laughter at your question. “You smell so good.” You said it lower- more to yourself, but he heard and the laughing stopped.

“Oh no! Are you okay Spills?” Claudia was there now, her hands pulling your hair away from your face and before you could succumb to the urge to tell her never to call you that Frankie spoke up.

“She’s okay, just need to get her home. You’re okay right, Spills?” His voice was lower, so soothing you could fall asleep to it.

“Hey Frankie, you and Claudia should stay, tell me where she lives and I’ll get her home.” It was Pope, Frankie must have trusted him immensely because before you knew it he was putting you into the front seat of Pope's rental and buckling you in. Claudia was tying your hair back and putting your purse into your lap.

“Be careful please - this is her address, just make sure she gets in and lays face down. There should be a bucket somewhere in her bathroom - water and some aspirin on her night table.” Frankie was talking as you closed your eyes. When you opened them you were parked in front of your place.

“Hey honey, come on let's get you inside. I’m just going to look for your keys, okay?” Pope was taking your purse out of your lap. You nodded vaguely.

He helped you in and guided you to your bed. You could feel him taking off your shoes and throwing the blanket over you.

-----

Someone is driving an ice-pick into my skull.

The light was intense and you swore out loud when you cracked an eye open. You stretched and felt a piece of paper beside you on the bed.

“I locked your door - keys are in your mailbox. Drink the water - take the ibuprofen. Let Catfish know you’re okay when you wake up- he was worried. - Pope”

You groaned.

[Francis]: Spills, are you okay?

[Francis]: Can you answer me please?

[Francis]: Don’t tell me you’re still asleep? What, are you a teenager? Getting drunk and sleeping until 4pm????

[Francis]: Sorry Spills, just worried - can you please let me know you’re okay before I show up?

You could see the three little dots signalling that he was in the middle of typing another message and you quickly called him to stop him.

“Jesus, it’s about fucking time.” He sounded worried and relieved and it pulled on your heart strings in a way you both loved and hated.

“Stop yelling Francisco, I am begging you.” You threw your arm over your eyes to block out the light as you lay there, in yesterday's clothes. You didn’t even want to know what you looked like right now.

“Feeling all that tequila aren’t you? I haven’t seen you that drunk for a long time.” You could hear the faint smile in his voice.

“Yes yes I know - so fucking embarrasing. Did I do.. Or say anything..?” You were trying to ask him without asking him.

“You almost threw up, but if you’re asking me if you started table-dancing you’re good.” He laughed and you sighed with palpable relief. All you needed was for him to tell you that you’d confessed your love or told Claudia to fuck off.

“Thank god. That would have been all I needed. Can you tell Pope I said thanks? Okay, I'm going to go shower for a million years now.” You wanted to hang up, your head was pounding and you needed a few hours of silence and about a gallon of water.

“Okay - see you in a few hours.” You didn’t want to deal with both of them together, not with how you felt right now.

“No Francis I don’t want to entertain, I already embarrassed myself enough yesterday.”

“It’s just me coming and I’ve seen you much worse. I haven’t been home in a long time so, take a shower and do what you have to do and I'll be there at seven.” He hung up and you could have thrown your phone across the room.

Fuck.

---

The knock at the door at exactly seven didn’t surprise you.

What did surprise you was how nervous you were that he would be coming over.

You were literally attached at the hip at one point, he’s seen you at your worst.

“You’re looking much better than you did last night, Spills.” He laughed as he walked past you and into your home.

“Oh god.” You groaned as he laughed, why had you been nervous? You watched him as he set down the bags of what looked to be way too much food on your kitchen counter. Grabbing napkins and forks - completely at ease within your space. “What did you bring?” moved to peak into the bags.

“Chinese - “ He looked to see your eyes wide and the big toothy smile you were giving him and laughed. “Did you think I’d forget you always get Chinese when you’re hungover?” He laughed as he took out what looked to be all your favourites.

“You’re a lifesaver Francis, truly.” You were practically bouncing on the balls of your feet as you served yourself.

“I know, I’m practically a saint.” He walked over to your couch and plopped down, an egg-roll in his mouth as he turned on your TV and looked for something to watch. This was it - this was how it was supposed to be.

This was easy.

He had come over in comfy clothes and seeing him on your couch in sweats and a soft flannel was almost too much. His hair had gotten longer than he had worn it before he went away and it looked so soft; practically begged for your fingers.

“Are you still a baby about horror movies?” He asked without looking at you, you saw that he had put on some cheesy zombie movie. A big smile on his face.

“No, I’m okay, as long as you check every single corner of this place before you leave.”

“God I love horror movies, Claudia hates them so we never end up watching.” He sighed. Her name cut through the air like a knife. An ice cube casually dropped into your shirt.

“That’s too bad.” You quickly shoved food into your mouth, stopping yourself from saying anything you’d regret but he knew you too well. He looked at you then, eyes narrowing a fraction.

“Do you like her?” He asked, point blank and your eyes widened at him.

Fuck, don’t make me answer this right now.

“Yeah, she’s great.” To your credit, you tried. You really tried to sound genuine.

“Why don’t you like her Spills?” He sighed heavily, putting his plate down onto your coffee table to face you properly.

“What are you talking about? I said she was great!” You could feel the flush creeping up your neck and licking at your face at the lie. She was great, that wasn’t a lie - you just didn’t like her.

“Seriously? You’re going to act like I can’t tell you’re lying through your teeth? Just tell me! I’m going to marry this girl. I have to know why you don’t like her.” He had a little frown on his face and you could see that he was worried, but what would he have to be worried about? Worried you’d picked up on something he’d missed maybe?

“I just don’t know her, Francis, that’s all. There’s nothing wrong with her, you know I'm just weird. She seems really nice and I’m sure I’ll like her once I get to know her better.” You smiled at him sadly, you didn’t want to talk about her anymore.

He smiled back at you and picked up his plate, happy with your explanation.

---

It always seemed to happen this way, ever since you’d been teenagers. He’d put on something scary and you would end up with your face buried into his chest.

“Oh god - that is disgusting!” You shut your eyes as he laughed, his chest rumbling underneath you at a particularly gruesome scene. You felt his hand rubbing your arm, and it was such a comfort that you sighed lightly. The words bubbled up without your permission.

“I missed this.” You felt him rest his chin on the crown of your head.

“Me too Spills, I always missed this while I was away, missed you.” He spoke into your hair, you could feel his breath ghosting along your scalp and your heart raced, you wanted nothing more than to turn and kiss him. His hand stilled, and you felt his heart beating under your ear. You wanted to do it, your whole body seemed to tense with want and you turned slightly to look at him through your lashes. He was already staring at you, his mouth was so close.

His phone rang, snapping him out of his trance and you moved away from him reluctantly.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” He smiled apologetically. “Just take a deep breath, it’ll be okay. I’m on my way.” He hung up and gave you a look that said I’m sorry. “Gotta go, wedding emergency.” He sighed heavily as he got up, taking both your plates to the kitchen with him.

You wanted him to stay, you wanted to grab him and sit him back down on the couch and straddle him. Grab the soft material of the flannel while you kissed him but you didn’t. Instead you smiled and thanked him for coming and for the food.

He made his way through the apartment before he left, opening every door.

“Just checking every corner, so you can sleep.” He smiled.

I love you too.

————————————

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kn1feinthec0ffee · 3 years

Text

new love - spencer reid

spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: spencer tells the team about his new girlfriend, y/n.

warnings: fluff in its purest form.

word count: 1503

notes: IM BACK!!! i know it’s been a little while since i posted anything but i actually had the time (and motivation) to write this and i think it’s rlly cute!!

********************

spencer gazed down at you as you slept, adoration filling his eyes.

last night was the first night you had slept over at his place. he wasn’t really against the idea, other than the fact that you’d wake up alone in his bed. he wished he could stay and cuddle you longer, but unfortunately serial killers had a habit of killing innocent people. it was spencer’s duty to prevent that, and well - duty calls.

spencer couldn’t seem to spur his legs into action, the image of you still asleep and curled up under his covers was one too precious to walk away from. you were spread out on your stomach, your hair sprawled out across the pillow underneath your head, your hands softly grasping the comforter.

spencer found himself immensely grateful for his eidetic memory so that he could never forget how adorable you looked.

in lieu of fully rousing you to say goodbye, he decided on placing a kiss on your forehead. the whimper that the small action elicited from you made his heart clench - and made it that much tougher to leave you.

spencer quickly found some spare notepaper and scribbled a note for you encouraging to call or text if you felt lonely, his chicken scratch hardly legible in his haste.

——————————

as he sat on the train that morning, he couldn’t help but realize that everything just seemed so much better now that you were a permanent fixture in spencer’s life. it was as if his life were a coloring page that had suddenly been filled in with the most vibrant of markers - as cliche as that sounds.

the inconveniences that plagued him almost daily now seemed like nothing - for example, the embarrassing half-jog-half-sprint he had to do in order to make it onto the train in time. spencer felt like he had a new outlook on life, and it was all owed to you.

spencer arrived at work, walking into the bullpen with a noticeable pep in his step as he made his way over to his desk. he set down his satchel, only to glance up and find morgan and jj staring at him.

“do i have something on my face?” he frowned, wiping at his face to ensure there was nothing there.

“you didn’t head to the coffee machine straight away,” morgan pointed out, swiveling his chair to face him.

“i, uh, don’t feel like i need it?” spencer’s brows knit in utter confusion at the sudden interrogation he found himself a part of.

“you always get a cup of coffee in the morning, spence, regardless of whether or not we’ve got a case.” jj chimed in.

“and?” he wasn’t quite sure what the point of all this was.

“do you mean to tell us the doctor actually got a decent amount of sleep last night?” derek scoffed.

“i suppose so. is that an issue?” spencer cocked his head, much like a puppy dog.

“no, it’s not an issue at all, it’s just unusual for you.” jj shared a look with morgan, who stood up from his chair to saunter over to the doctor’s desk.

“so who’s the lucky girl, pretty boy?” he grinned.

the heat instantaneously rose to spencer’s cheeks at his words. “wh-what? what girl? i have no clue what you’re talking about!”

“come on, spence, you don’t expect us to realize the way you walked into work with a grin on your face? that hardly ever happens before you’ve gotten any caffeine in you, which - if you’ll remember correctly - you didn’t even have this morning.” jj grinned at the blushing boy.

“come on, that’s no fair! you guys know we’re not supposed to profile each other!” he practically whined, crossing his arms over his chest.

“ooh, who’s profiling who?” penelope said as she scurried towards the trio. “woah - boy wonder you are glowing. what are you hiding from me?”

before he could stop him from answering, derek spoke. “we think pretty ricky’s got a girlfriend.”

a sudden expression of pure joy made its way onto the analyst’s face as a smile lit up her face. “please, please tell me he’s right!”

spencer weighed his options carefully. the two of you were relatively new, and he didn’t want to spoil anything by telling his friends about you so soon. but on the other hand, every time he’d brought them up, you’d mentioned how much you’d love to meet them all one day. so he figured, what would be the harm in telling them?

“yeah. i do have one. a girlfriend, that is.” he spoke awkwardly.

penelope practically squealed as she pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. “i’m so happy for you! but spencer reid, how could you hide this from us? but i need to know absolutely every last detail!”

the way she flipped from excitedness to borderline anger left spencer feeling a little frazzled, but nonetheless happy to share. “her name is y/n, and she works in the bookstore downtown. that’s actually where we met.”

“y/n reid really has a ring to it, doesn’t it?” penelope exclaimed, clasping her hands together.

derek noticed how flustered spencer was becoming with all the sudden attention on both him and his love life and opted to pull her back slightly. “alright, let’s reign it in, babygirl. he only just mentioned her, i’m sure they’re not getting hitched any time soon.”

he sent derek a thankful look before continuing. “we’ve only been dating for a month now, i don’t think either of us are ready for that yet,” he laughed nervously.

“what’s she like?” jj asked, perching on the edge of his desk.

“i can’t even - i don’t even have the words to articulate how wonderful she is,” spencer sighed dreamily. “she’s just so kind and loving and funny and so, so beautiful.”

morgan and jj exchanged a knowing look, while penelope looked like a child who had finally gotten the pony she kept asking for.

“y/n’s one lucky girl,” she grinned a toothy grin. “speaking of y/n, when might the lucky lady like to meet us? please tell me she wants to meet us.”

“she actually really wants to meet you guys, she-“ spencer was cut off as garcia whisked him away to arrange a date with the whole team.

before she could get too far, morgan grabbed him by the arm. “seriously kid, i’m happy for you. she seems like she makes you really happy.”

spencer could only offer a quick ‘thanks’ in response before garcia dragged him all the way to her cave to plan.

——————————

“you’re home!” spencer heard you shout as he stepped past the door. he braced for impact as you practically launched yourself into his arms. “how was your day, baby?”

he smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead as you pulled away. “it was good, just a paperwork day, but i didn’t get much done - except for one thing.”

“and what was that?” you quirked a brow at his odd statement.

“i might’ve told the team about us,” he grew slightly panicked as he noticed the shocked expression on your face. “i-i hope that’s okay with you. i know i didn’t ask, but i-“

you took his hands in yours, gently thumbing over his knuckles. “it’s fine by me, i just wasn’t sure if you were comfortable with it, spence.”

his heart skipped a beat at your thoughtfulness, pressing a kiss to your hands. “i don’t know, i guess in that moment, any doubt in my mind went away. n-not that there was any to begin with!”

you stepped up to place a chaste kiss to his lips, silencing his clarifications. “it’s okay, i think it’s sweet. so, what’d they say?”

“they were really happy for me, and i think garcia nearly burst a blood vessel when i told her.” the two of you giggled. “they kept saying how lucky you were, but i couldn’t help but think that i’m the lucky one.”

“oh they’re absolutely right there. i am the lucky one. how else could i have ended up with such a catch like you?” you smirked at the growing blush on your boyfriend’s cheeks.

“after i told them about you, garcia dragged me away to go plan a date for you to meet them, a-and i told her this friday would be fine, so i hope that’s okay with you.” spencer admitted, looking down at you hopefully.

“spence? are you kidding?” you beamed, clasping your hands together in excitement. “i can hardly wait!” you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for your lips to meet.

his hand came up to cup your cheek, thumbing softly over your cheekbone as he smiled into the kiss. when you finally pulled away, you motioned for him to follow you into the kitchen for dinner.

as you practically skipped away, all spencer could think about was how incredibly thrilled he was to have met you. he wondered if maybe his teammates were right: you were both the lucky ones.

********************

i LOVE how this turn out and i put a lot of thought into this and actually had some friends read over it before i posted it so i hope u guys love it too 😊

as usual i’m tagging ppl on my taglist & ppl who i think might be interested :)

tags: @sojournmichael @stinkyelf @crazyfore3 @cal-ifornication @eggygorl02 @howdycharlie @eosprincess @mortallythoughtfulgurl @illuxions-x @unlikelyempathpruneauthor @blankets-for-bees @holycandypizza @flyingbabyunicornnamedangel @lovelyrdjr @elitereid @minnie-bby @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @fantastic-fans @keomoon @elric8097 @jjtheangel @spacedikut @whoreforthebau @angelbunnyoxo @theonewithcriminalminds @andiebeaword @big-galaxy-chaos @beatleszeppelin @averyhotchner @dreatine @you-sunshine

#i sound like a broken record but i really like this a lot #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds #cm #criminal minds x reader #cm x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler character #mgg #mgg character #my writing

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