Tumgik
#and no matter how hard i try to fix it i just end up right back here again
stvenzz · 2 days
Text
he smells like the sun.
that was your first thought about megumi fushiguro. it was surprising, considering his dark-colored clothes. you’d have thought he’d stink like a virgin nerd, but he smells like a warm sunny day. sitting next to him has made you realize how much you miss the days when you’d just drive off to the beach and sit there.
cramped in a small aula, you found yourself sitting closer to him than you’d thought. megumi doesn’t seem to care though, as your elbow keeps knocking against his. “-and of course, i’d like to remind you all that the campus winter ball is coming soon!” the dean says into the mic, and a flurry of groans follow. “it will be held in this very aula, with festive, non-alcoholic drinks! it will be a chance for you to bond with your classmates and get to know the faculty!”
“bond, like he boned one of the students last year.” you mutter to yourself.
that catches his attention. you smell like cinnamon. yes, yeah. like cinnamon rolls. megumi thinks, as he glances at you. he tries to think of why he hasn’t seen you around before - how he doesn’t recognize the cinnamon from your hair. you smile at your own joke, and he can’t help but smile a little too. not that it was funny, but because he thought you were funny. and alluring. and cinnamon scented.
“that’s it for today. i am hoping to see you all next week, alright?” the dean announces, but half of the crowd has already left to attend their morning classes. you start to pack up and leave, megumi does too. you think it’s the last you’ll ever smell sunshine indoors. he’s thinking of the cinnamon buns in the canteen.
Tumblr media
the next time you see sunshine - yes, that’s the nickname you’ve come up for him - is during a dorm check. you see, you’ve been staying at a dormitory for a year with someone studying physics. nerds like that don’t usually stay too long in dormitories - they get too homesick and have to go back to their mamas or end up renting some other place less noisy or dirty. you’re kind of jealous, actually. the dorms are most of the time filthy with the smell of weed or tears.
“excuse me,” you hear a male voice chirp outside your room. “[y/n]?” groaning, you get up and fix your shirt. it’s supposed to be my off day. what the fuck is the nerd doing here- oh. there he was. in a pale blue button down and puffer jacket, stood megumi fushiguro - sunshine. “oh. it’s… hi.” he mutters, a light pink shade blushing his cheeks.
unbeknownst to you, megumi had been searching for traces of your cinnamon shampoo all over campus. “hey, do you… smell that cinnamon shit?” megumi would ask his friends, to where they’d laugh and shake their hands.
“you shouldn’t be smoking here.” he says, with a surprisingly confident manner.
you immediately become conscious of the small cigarette in between your index and middle finger, and you raise your eyebrows. “who are you?” you ask, pretending not to enjoy the warmth of his scent. “the new resident assistant.” he says, pointing to his clipboard. his eyes are deadpan, but inside, his heart is beating a mile a minute - he finally knows! you were his mystery cinnamon smell, as creepy as that sounds. “i meant your name, dingus.” you roll your eyes, taking a long drag of the cigarette. at that, his eyes seem to falter in surprise, but he shrugs. “shouldn’t matter. you know i could get you kicked out, right? just for smoking.”
the threat gets you thinking - why were you trying so hard to resist this nerd? “i’m almost finished. be patient, will you?” you smile sweetly, and it’s hard for him not to smile back. there’s an unspoken tension between you two, and it’s not the bad kind. in fact, you feel like you could almost read his emotions and his deadpan face. megumi’s eyes scan around your room, looking for anything he could report.
“well,” megumi scribbles down something on his clipboard. “it’s nice to meet you, [y/n].”
your heart starts beating funny — he didn’t report you for smoking. usually, you’d be more careful when smoking in the dorms, but this time, with your roommate gone and the absence of classes, you decided to just do it once, in your room. oddly enough, that’s the exact time the newly-appointed resident assistant, megumi fushiguro, arrived at your room, looking to check on the conditions of your place.
“you too.”
you put out your cigarette and settle with the fact that you may just never know sunshine’s name.
Tumblr media
★☆ a/n: little blurb i wrote when i wuz in love with megumi.
60 notes · View notes
tortademaracuya · 8 months
Text
love being reminded by the "bestie" that keeps being close friends with all the girls that treated me like shit about the other friend not from that group that also treated me like shit and tried to convince others to leave me
3 notes · View notes
fantabulisticity · 3 months
Text
I GOT ALL MY EARRINGS BACK IN PROPERLY 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
0 notes
gaystardykeco · 9 months
Text
becoming abundantly clear that the less i socialize with ppl the worse im getting at it and the worse i get at it the less i socialize with ppl
#its just so frustrating bc like now i have few enough conversations with ppl that i really can spend hours obsessing over each one#and then i can find all the missteps i made and things i said wrong and just fixate on them for hours and hours#and really its on me bc i should be able to have friendly conversation without fucking up this much every time#but its just exhausting like i really do just need to isolate fully as painful as it may be bc my social skills are just getting worse#and its at the point where subjecting other ppl to them will ultimately only make them annoyed with me or disappointed in me#idk i know this all sounds silly im just tired of being so selfish and not having better control of what i say#like i think so hard all the time about how i can be a better friend and talk about myself less and then i get the chance to and just...don#i just feel like theres smth fundamentally wrong with me where the person i am is just not someone ppl want to be around#and no matter how hard i try to fix it i just end up right back here again#i feel like ppl think i stopped talking to them bc i didnt want to talk to them but thats really not it at all#i just dont feel like i can have other ppl in my life without eventually hurting them or having them regret choosing to know me#i just feel like looking back at any year of my life is looking back at so many ppl that are so much happier now that im not in their lives#and that hurts so bad and i dont know how to not be that person anymore
0 notes
sensitivegoblin · 1 year
Text
..
0 notes
DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.
or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?
or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~
Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.
It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?
Danny’s obsession was going crazy.
Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?
Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?
Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*
~~~~~
Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!
~~~~~
Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?
~~~~~2 hours later~~~~
Tumblr media Tumblr media
~~~~~
Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.
Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.
To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.
Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.
The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
~~~~~
Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.
999 notes · View notes
ms-fade · 3 months
Text
Patch Up
Tumblr media
Older!Luke Castellan x fem!reader. 18+ drabble.
Request: What about luke x reader (whatever Godly parent) but the reader helps out in the medic Station so he gets a little cut while training so he can get stiched up by her, which leads into him fucking her in the small cabin telling her "be quite or do u want everyone to know how much you love my dick" or smth along does lines 🤭🤭🤭🤭
Warning: smut content, dominate behavior, trying not to get caught, rough style f*cking, slight degradation, small chocking.
Tumblr media
Many times he found himself underneath your hands while you fixed him up after his mistakes in training. You’d patch up every cut and bruise on his skin, even paper cuts he used to come and see you. He didn’t need medication for any of his “injuries” but who was he to deny his overbearing lust for you.
The first time the two of you hooked up was when you were wiping off the healed cut of dried blood from his cheek. His eyes glued to your face as if it could leave his life forever if he looked away. The way you parted your lips to focus on him in every moment made him think about it in the dead of night. You had caught him staring making you get a shy grin and pull away from him. Luke ended up kissing you without hesitation, and one thing lead to another with you spreading out on the bed.
It never stopped after that. He’d come in with a small wound, you’d take him in, he’d fuck you like a whore and then leave. Waiting until the next time.
However this time was different. The gash across his chest looked bad, needing a bit extra attention from you but he was alright with that. When you placed your hands on his bear skin it reminded him of each time you’d pant and claw at his chest or back. His cock became painfully hard watching you work you magic as your soft touch made his skin on fire.
And, like always he’d have you in his clutch within minutes of his seductive eyes.
Your pants pulled down to your ankles as his arms wrapped around your body pulling you back into him with every thrust. His cock pushing into your heat making you bite your lip to try and silence the sounds you were making, but hums and whimpers filled the room. His fingers dig into your skin making sure to leave his claim incase anyone else wanted to touch you.
“that’a girl,” his husky voice spoke near your ear as the hairs stand up from his breath, “taking my cock just like that, so easy every time.” his lips kissed behind your ear.
his noises weren’t loud but still made your stomach clinch and tighten from his low groans and hard breaths. everything about him made your pussy drip.
“No matter how many times I fuck you, you still can’t stay quiet?” his hand inched up from your chest to the base of your neck to give it a light squeeze. The tip of his dick hitting far inside you when he slammed himself up making a slapping noise echo.
“M’sorry.” You mumbled as your eyes stayed shut from the pleasure within your core. He fucked you so good that you craved it from the moment you woke up, from the moment you went to sleep.
“I bet you wanna get caught with my cock inside you, don’t you? Someone seeing how good you take me, how pretty your body bounces while I thrust inside.” it was hard to deny the fact that part of you was turned on at the thought of getting caught. but it was too embarrassing.
“I see that pout at your lips, that tells me you don’t want it?” his foot moved and started a new pace. he leaned forward to start nibbling at your lower ear, “then why does your cunt clinch when I say that, hmm?”
there was no fighting when your own body was telling the truth and he could read you like a picture book. every reaction your body made he knew about it.
“That’s right baby, cry while I fuck you so good.” His hand went from your neck to your jaw and held it tightly making you whine.
“Let everyone know how much you love my cock.”
2K notes · View notes
ma1dita · 21 days
Note
BABEEE happy birthday!! (i'm so terribly late i'm so sorry) congrats on 23💖
🐥 so i'm having thoughts right now about luke x reader and physical affection. like maybe one of them being touch starved and always craving the other person's touch and the other person noticing it and doing it more? maybe from platonic (i will go down with best friends to lovers) to romantic, i'm just on this brainrot tonight
🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥
luke castellan x reader
a/n: back from the klerb but here with a classic 4am post 🥂 but the hangxiety wont let me rest until this is out! ill edit this in the morning... or not 😗
wc: 1.1k
It’s hard to miss what you’ve never had.
Luke Castellan was never a touchy guy. Sure, he’ll hold a new camper’s hand during welcome tours (especially the little ones who can barely keep up with his long legs; if they’re lucky they get a piggy back ride), and he won’t shy away from a clap on the back when his strategies for capture the flag bring his team to victory (they always do, mind you), and when he feels like it, he’ll even shove Annabeth playfully to show her he adores her (but she packs a punch now that she’s older).
It never really goes past that, and he’s never had to think too hard about it—physical touch.
He’s the one who takes care of others—a part of his nature like it is for Hermes’ cabin to take in unclaimed demigods. But something changed in the months that he’s gotten closer to you. At first, he’d bite his tongue at the way you’re so open to patting his cheek when he does something funny (which he doesn’t try to make a show of, but now…), how you choose to sit so close to him during bonfires that your knees touch (the Apollo kids could be singing about the heavens falling down on them for all he cares but he zeroes in on every word that leaves your lips), and the way you’d lock your fingers with him for a pinky promise after every little thing ‘to make sure it’s real’ (Luke didn’t understand the merit of a pinky promise over whether you could have his dessert for the next week if you took over arts and crafts with the kiddie campers for him; truthfully he’d give it to you anyway). It was unusual for him to have someone comfort him, to show care without a true reason. But he didn’t realize how much more it bothered him now that you wouldn’t even look him in the eye.
Silena and some of the other Aphrodite children had asked you the very defining question of, “Do you like Luke Castellan?” and having never thought of it that way, or being able to put your feelings for him in words instead of fingers in his belt loops or in the muss of his curls—that shit was terrifying!
You spent all Saturday afternoon at the docks with them belly down under the glare of the sun’s rays as they explained to you what the five love languages are. By the end of it, sunburn wasn’t the only reason you felt hot.
“Your love language is physical touch,” one of Silena’s older half-siblings—Connelly, says like he’s explaining that the sky is blue, “And Luke’s not that type of guy! Think he’s more acts of service…”
“Ooh, or words of affirmation….” another one of them muses, but the sound of your heartbeat tunes it all out. Well shit, have you been sending him the wrong signals? Or are there even any signals you want to send him? 
Nevertheless, in the matters of love or even the tiniest whisper of it—maybe there’s no one else you can trust with this stuff besides Cabin 10.
Wrong.
Absolutely wrong. Whatever the hell you’ve been convinced or whatever’s changed since last weekend—Luke just knows he hates it, and he’s angry. He’s angry at how you gasp in surprise every time you brush shoulders during archery practice when you used to let him fix your form, he’s angry at how you’ll squeeze campers’ shoulders to tell them they’re doing a good job carrying the strawberry crates—and all he gets is a mumbled ‘Thanks, Castellan’ when he stacks them up and takes your load.
Luke’s so terribly angry that Travis told him he’s been walking around like a big strawberry, face red and irritated—but not at you. 
He realizes he’s also angry at the fact that he can’t protect you from the onslaught of a rain cloud—or maybe it was the fact that you’re so okay with the rain touching your skin and seeping through your orange shirt like he wishes you’d let him. He’s angry at the way the wind blows your hair into your face and your fingers brush the strands away like he wishes he can. Most of all, Luke Castellan is angry that he didn’t know how good a simple touch could be until he lost it—before he even really got to appreciate yours.
You’re sitting on the opposite end of the row in the amphitheater laughing with your friends and the furrow in his thick brow is a tell-tale sign of his discomfort. Luke doesn’t dare to remember what it’s like before you to be honest—he’d rather give up Elysium instead of having you ignore him like this. He calls your name, a tinge of both anger and desperation until you look over at him, eyelashes kissing your cheeks. The hold you have on him transcends the physical touch of your fingers but he wants, no—needs you next to him.
“C’mere! Why are you so far away?”
Luke hopes it doesn’t sound pathetic, but a crooked grin splits across his face as soon as you make your way over, sitting down and crossing your legs away from him. It’s still too far, even if he can feel your breath on his shoulder.
“Did I do something to make you angry? I…” The words escape his mouth in a jumble—quick wit from his father escaping him, though he knows not to rely on that asshole, god or not. You mutter words that almost escape him too, and he leans in, chasing your hands and putting them in his own until they’re gentle and soft in his lap.
“No, no…. I just… don’t want to push your boundaries. I know you don’t like it when I’m too touchy,” and he thinks his heart clenches a little like how you’re squeezing his hands. Luke shouldn’t feel instant gratification from a subconscious action. He wants to know you mean it with him—that’s what he can’t put into words.
“I….like it when you do.”
You notice the way his fingers tangle tighter with yours, pinkys interlocking with yours. When he lets go, Luke wraps his arm around your shoulders until you’re able to laugh in the crook of his neck. He chooses to place a kiss on the corner of your mouth when your head sways to face him at the silly tune about centaurs and then you realize that Luke loves the way you love him. You wonder if he accidentally missed meeting your lips, but then the noise in your head quiets down when he pulls you closer, lips locking tenderly, intentionally—as they were always meant to.
You both hear a giggle that sounds a lot like tinkling bells belonging to children of Aphrodite. 
For once they were wrong about love. 
Luke’s tongue parts through your lips and meets your own like they’re in a long awaited embrace, dancing and devouring you from the inside out but this, you— are what he can rely on. This, your touch, and how he chooses to let it consume him, never letting go.
672 notes · View notes
anundyingfidelity · 6 months
Text
FOR ALL TIME, ALWAYS – Loki x female reader
Tumblr media
Summary: Loki escapes the TVA for a moment. Desperate and brokenhearted, he looks for you, his wife, in the Sacred Timeline. Even if you saw him die ten years ago.
Word count: 3.9k.
Warnings: LOTS of angst, some fluff, spoilers of Loki series in general. Language. Maybe I'm not getting how the branches work oops. This is right after the end of 2x02 and before 2x03. My English is also a warning, just in case.
Notes: while looking on the tags I checked a post of someone asking for a TVA Loki fic where he finds the reader but her Loki died in IW (not canon in my head btw). So I wrote it because is such a great idea, but I can't find the original post... ;-; anyway hope you like this!
☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !
GEN MASTERLIST!
Tumblr media
It's harder to stay...
Wasn't this situation hard enough? Sylvie was right. She had a point. But Loki wanted to do the right thing. Maybe he would find a chance... Again, right? Probably he would make the proper decisions this time.
The TVA was already fucked up, and with it, the thousands of timelines and lives in danger within them. Sometimes, it looked like it didn't matter. In the end, they were trying to fix something that was already broken.
Loki let out a deep breath he didn't realise was holding and walked to talk directly to his partner, Mobius.
"I need a favor," Loki mumbled, so the grey-haired man would be the only person to hear his voice.
Mobius met his eyes. He knew that gaze, it meant he was up to something. "What kind of favor?"
The god motioned Mobius to step away from the newly acknowledged variants and far away from what B-15 was witnessing. The branches were pruned from the whole existence; thousands and millions of lifes lost to the void in just the blink of an eye. Loki knew he had to do something before it got worst. Something for himself.
"I need to go the Sacred Timeline," Loki announced.
"Are you nuts?" Mobius scolded, in the same low voice tone Loki had used.
"Is just- listen, it's something I have to do. I really need to go back there. Need to see someone, make sure everything is okay," Loki insisted.
During all the times Loki showed he was desperate, Mobius was sure this was the peak of all of them. He wasn't explaning more than necessary, he looked serious, and his voice was crisp. Loki knew what he wanted at that moment. Mobius sighed, his hands finding the pockets of his pants, unsure of Loki's request.
"So it's personal..."
"A little, yeah," Loki nodded.
"Promise it'll be quick," Mobius said, taking off the TemPad from his pocket and his hand stopped in the air before the object could lay in the god's grip. "Don't make me regret this."
"I won't."
2029, Sacred Timeline
When Loki arrived to his destination, the nerves got the best from him. New York looked no different from the last time he was there. Shifting his usual clothes he wore at the TVA, he chose a plain suit to go undercover, or at least decided he would try to, considering he was a criminal once in Midgard.
But as he walked through the halls of the familiar building he met decades ago, he didn't really care. He longed for something else. Better say, someone. And it was you.
You, who met him in the past right after Thor's banishment, and even helped him to find the Teseract, only to give up to SHIELD and those idiots that people called 'The Avengers'. Of course his heart hurted for a long time, but Loki tried to deny the feelings blooming inside and instead, he just decided to walk away from you, even if that meant hurting you. It was the best.
At least that was what he believed until he checked further his file; the file that Mobius had prepared for him. His life. Even after what he did to your people and planet, you still held no grudges. And Thor was good enough to seek for yours and the sorcerer's, Stephen Strange, help once Hela appeared in their lives.
Loki would never forget the loving look in your beautiful eyes when you saw him again, after years of parting ways. He really paid attention to you while watching his file, and he found there was only love, protection, and care in you. All for him. Someone who didn't deserve it, he thought.
He felt grateful at least he had the pleasure to enjoy happiness for a moment. Even if that meant Asgard was destroyed. Loki already lost his mother, his father, and he almost lost his brother. He couldn't stand losing you either. The simple idea of living without you - even if he didn't know you further than your Loki did - was unbearable pain.
So while in the ship on the way to Midgard with the asgardians and survivors of the Ragnarok, you held a cozy, small wedding when he asked you to marry him. This was one of the parts Loki would replay again and again from his file, with disbelief that he was actually happy and joyful, enjoying a good time with you, his brother, and all the asgardians who survived. Loki felt full of hope after your wedding, thinking fate had better things to come with you as an oficial part of his life.
Unfortunately, it didn't last long, thanks to the Mad Titan. As his steps got near your door, the memory of his brother and your figure mourning on his lifeless body appeared on his mind. It was an image he couldn't erase that easily. Probably, he would never forget that was his original destiny all the way. That was meant to be. And for now, he could not change it.
Loki stopped outside your apartment. He took a deep breath and raised his shaking hand to reach the doorbell. He waited for a moment, not knowing if seconds or minutes went by, it felt eternal. Until the door opened and he saw you.
The bright smile you had on your lips faded away. Your eyes flooded with tears, your forehead was furrowed, and still, Loki thought you were the most beautiful creature in all the Nine Realms.
"Hi..." Loki barely whispered, his eyes were glossy and a single tear also ran down his pale cheek.
You were clearly in shock. You wanted to get closer and finally touch him, to feel him physically. But even if you wanted to move to take his hand to confirm it wasn't a trick of your ruined mind, your body was stiff and your feet were glued to the ground.
"Is this an illusion?" you trembled.
All Loki could do was shaking his head, before muttering. "No..."
"Loki, I saw you die..."
Tears ran down your face, denying to yourself that this was real. That this was really happening to you. And your mind started to wonder all the possible scenarios and reasons on why him, the god of mischief, the only person you loved dearly with all your mind, body and soul, was standing right in front of your door even if he was gone for you... Long gone now. And that couldn't be undone.
"I know you did, my love."
You tried to smile, even a little bit, as he pronounced those words so dearly. Loki came closer to your figure, carefully placing a trembling hand on your cheek, feeling the tears flowing on your skin. You leaned into his touch, with a simpering smile. Such was the effect you had on him, that a silly smile he also had on his lips.
And you realized Loki was so real... His touch, his heat, his smile, his scent, the way he would hold you... Everything about him was exactly as you remembered. You felt his lips brushing softly against yours, gentle and hesitant, and instantly, you melted into a slow kiss, sure knowing that Loki would taste the salt of your tears running down your face. Leaning in closer as the space between would allow you, you savoured each second your breaths allowed, longing to remain right there for eternity. For all time. Always.
"But now I am here... and I can explain," he whispered once you separated your lips from his in the sweetest way.
You let out a soft chuckle. "Mind to enlighten me, oh, god of mischief?"
Finally you guided him inside your apartment. That old apartment Loki saw his other self visiting a couple of times before you were something. It still had your vibe around it and he loved it. He felt like he was at home after a very long time. Once you closed the door, his arms wrapped around your figure, and you let yourself cry, pressing against his chest and with a tight grip of your hands on his coat.
"You don't have any idea of how much I have missed you all these years," you sobbed and his heart shrank on his chest. "I kept wishing every night and every day to be me instead of you."
"My love," he said softly, separating a little and cupping your cheeks with his warm hands. His eyes were red now because of the tears he was holding back again. "Don't say that... It was supposed to happen."
"What?" you mumbled.
Your hands found his wrists and you pulled his palms away from your cheeks. However you kept the contact with him, you just needed to touch him, to feel he was in the flesh. He was alive right now, wasn't he?
"Look, I am not your Loki. I know what you did, what the Avengers did after Thanos-" his voice broke just a bit but he continued. "I know everything. I just couldn't resist knowing there was someone for me, out there in the Nine Realms, capable to love me for who I am," Loki explained as he watched your face. Was it disappointment? Confusion? He didn't know, but he had to tell you the truth.
Your voice came out as a barely audible whisper. "So... you are saying... you're another Loki? Another him?"
He nodded softly. "I am." Loki thought for a moment on how to explain everything, but he just went for what his heart felt it was right. "It's a little complicated. I did something that wasn't supposed to be, and perhaps will sound like I'm insane, but thanks to that I am kind of trapped in time. With an organization that is not what everyone thought it was, hence a multiverse was created. Sponsored by another me, by the way. You are in what is called the Sacred Timeline, where things flow as how they were supposed to since forever. And I just needed to see you after I found out you were the love of my life."
You took a moment to understand everything he said, wishing that his fate would have been different from what originally happened. Loki gave his best, even in the last worst moments, he was changing for good. For you. For Thor... It wasn't fair.
"Your death was supposed to be then?"
"Yes, it was."
"Oh, Loki," you cried. "You know what, I don't care what's happened. I'm just- I feel happy seeing you here... Please tell me everything you've been through. I want to hear your voice again, to know you're with me right now, to feel you near... I'm not crazy, am I?" you chuckled between tears and Loki curved his lips in a smile, wiping your tears from your face with his thumbs.
Loki granted your wish and explained everything, answering every question you had about the lies of the TVA; the files he found out were his whole life; about Sylvie, Mobius and his variants. He spilled all you wanted to hear, asking like a child, until you understood what was happening. You noticed he truly had changed, just like your Loki did when he reunited with Thor before the Ragnarok took over Asgard. It was a bittersweet feeling however, thinking how much they they seemed to each other. They were the same person after all, but this Loki didn't had the chance to continue his path as it was supposed to.
Taking his hand into yours, you leaned towards him and laid down your head on his shoulder while you both sat comfortable in the couch, just enjoying each others company. Your eyes were dry at this point after crying for what it felt were hours, but his voice helped to soothe you enough.
"I'm glad knowing you have someone like Mobius by your side," you said after a quiet moment. "He sounds like a very good friend," you looked at him, waiting for an answer. "Because that's what he is to you, right?"
"He is a great friend, I'm not alone if that is what is troubling you," Loki affirmed.
You let out a sigh. "That is totally a relief to me."
Loki chuckled softly, leaning to leave a kiss on your hair. "Now you've heard everything about me, would I hear something from you?"
"I'm just a mortal, Loki," you smiled. "Doing the normal shit, not the superhero stuff anymore. I am hating my pretty much normal office job every day; I feed the birds when I go outside at the park, also thinking about adopting a cat or a dog... Maybe a dog."
"Or you could do both."
"Yeah, I might. But my place isn't that big for pets. Sometimes I feel like I'm too alone, very much alone... I would love to have a big farm, or a cabin in the mountains with lots of plants, pets and animals to take care of." The idea did sound good for Loki. Hopefuly you could find peace that way. "Do you remember Pepper?" you said, straighting up on the couch to look at him. He nodded. "Well, after Tony died I still visit her and their daughter, Morgan. She is ten years old, could you believe it?" Loki noticed the sorrow and pain you still carried after all those years of losing your friends, your people... "And I've been missing you and mourning you for ten years as well."
"It's not your fault."
"I know, Loki."
"Do whatever is the best for you, my dear... I would have loved to be here with you now, as the Loki from the Sacred Timeline."
You smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Well, either way, you're here now. It's all that matters to me."
Once again, you shared a loving kiss and took his hand to walk to the kitchen, asking him to take a seat in your breakfast bar, glad he decided to search for you in one of your free days. Otherwise, you would have surely missed his visit. But he was looking for you. Probably Loki would have found you anywhere at this point.
You talked some more while you had some tea and ate some cookies that you saved for special days on the shelfs. The afternoon was pleasant, and this was your turn to speak. Loki, coat long gone, was catching up with you and he asked every single thing about your life now. He smiled more than ever, laughed more than you have ever seen, and it was certainly something you could get used to from now on. Knowing you never continued your life with another person made his heart ache though. However, Loki was no one to blame. He would have done the same thing. No other was like you, no one would have replaced you.
"It's my decision," you finally said, reading his face like an open book. "I have loved you, I love you now and I will love you forever."
He took your hand, lacing your fingers with his. "I know..."
"The day we married you gave me a ring. I always have it with me, today I'm not working, but I use this necklace with your ring," you searched for the necklace hiding inside your shirt and taking it off, you showed him the precious jewel hanging on a fine golden chain. The ring he recognized once was from his mother. "I want you to have it."
"No,I can't-"
"But this is what I want. I know I would have to forget, because you will make me forget about this. About you, coming here, risking everything just to see me. So please, take it."
Loki knew you had made a decision, but then if he left, taking your memories away about this day, what was left for you? He had nothing, and it was okay. He would still know he came to the Sacred Timeline; that he kissed you, that you shared a moment together, that you still loved him. But you will have none of that. And you, as human as you were, would die without the memories and without the ring. You would have nothing and he was sure couldn't bear it.
"Perhaps I can have something else to remember you, I want you to keep this ring as a promise," he closed your hand around the necklace. "My promise that I still love you and I will do it. Forever."
And you sighed, taking the necklace back with a smile. Always so stubborn. "Give me a moment."
Loki saw you leave the kitchen for some minutes. While he was alone, he noticed the sunset through the windows, as it was almost ending to welcome the dark sky around the city. He knew he had to go soon. As much as he didn't want to and the simple thought of runing away was starting to hurt him deep inside.
When you arrived, you stood by his seat on the breakfast bar, putting a small photograph, perfect for a passport, on the surface. It was all in black and white, and you looked what you thought it was nice. Loki took it between his hands, lovingly and with a proud smile on his face.
"I used that when I was taking my Master's degree. Looks pretty decent," you joked.
Loki laughed, tears right at the corner of his eyes. "It's more than that. It's perfect."
His smile faded, knowing this meant he had to leave you again. Loki wasn't supposed to have a happy ending, was he? How he wished to stay there by your side.
You kissed his cheek as a sort of goodbye and comfort at the same time, noticing the sudden change on his face and whispered softly. "So you don't search for me on those files."
"Thank you, love."
Loki got on his feet to put his coat on, like some sort of mental preparation before leaving your apartment and the Sacred Timeline. He saved your photograph on his pocket securely along with Mobius' TemPad, pretending to be strong and swallowing all the pain he was feeling right at that moment. You took his hand, lacing your fingers together one last time and walked until you stood there, in the middle of your living room. He looked at you with loving eyes, trying to save your face and your figure before returning to where he was supposed to be now. And it seemed like time had stopped, as everything Loki could see and feel was you and only you.
"I guess is time now," you began, interrupting his mind.
"I guess it is," Loki nodded, expecting an answer from you. Anything. But it never came. You were also trying to save the moment as much as you could.
So he cupped your cheeks, feeling for the last time your warm, soft skin against his palms. He didn't want to talk, because if he would have said something, it meant you were really saying goodbye forever. What Loki didn't know is that you felt the same thing.
Was there something good to say to your lover, whose destiny was just to bring the best from other people with his cruelty and chaos? To the man who had learn to make things better and, in the end, died trying to protect his people and his wife? Was there anything out there that would bring the god of mischief the happiness and love you always knew he deserved? With these branches and multiverse thing, you hoped deep in your heart there was a universe where he found what he longed for so long. This was just one of many of them. Probably he was happy and living in peace in some others.
"I love you, Loki," you mumbled. He caressed your skin with his thumbs and wiped the small tears that were running on your cheeks.
"I love you too."
Loki leaned to kiss you one last time. You welcomed the kiss with shut eyes, savouring his lips and the taste of your tears, mixing now with his own.
The pain started to bloom; every heartbeat felt like a sledgehammer pounding against his chest. He was not ready to let you go, so this was all he could do. The seidr flowed from his fingers, the green lights covering your body with the help of the spell he casted for you was made to protect you from anything that could get out of hand in the Sacred Timeline, particularly from his own hands, the hands of the TVA, or any other danger that could chase you. Because if something would happen to you due to his stubborn decision, Loki knew he wouldn't forgive himself. What he was sure about though, was that he would still look for you until the end of time.
So when the kiss ended, you fell asleep in seconds. He had to take your sleeping figure with his arms to your bedroom, where he carefully laid you down on the bed. Making sure you were comfortable in your sleep, fixing the pillows and the blankets, Loki remained there, just to take in the serenity emanating from you. It was something you had, the ease and calm your aura projected to everyone in the room. This was the last thing Loki wanted to save from you.
He kissed your forehead and dried the tears on your face before standing up. Once you were to wake up in some hours, you would not be able to know everything was real. Loki made sure you thought it was a dream. So that is what you would have in your head. Something you wished for so long that will only be nothing but thoughts, scenes and emotions that felt absolutely true. As real as life could be.
Loki took the TemPad and opened the timedoor to go back to the TVA, where he knew Mobius would be waiting already since he left for hours. Without looking back to your room, he stepped in and forced to compose himself just in case he would bump into someone else. He sighed, observing through the halls of the headquaters as he made his way back to the room that was assigned to him.
At his door, a worried Mobius was already waiting for him, walking in circles.
"God, Loki I thought you were gone for a second," the analyst breathed out. Loki just handed the TemPad and Mobius took it back. He noticed his weary demeanor and teary eyes. "Thank you. Sorry I doubted you for a second."
"It's fine," Loki shrugged it off, looking for something on his pocket. The photograph slipped from his fingers and fell down to the floor. Mobius was quick enough to pick it up for him, but as he gave it back to his owner he observed it thoroughly.
"So this was the personal thing you did," Mobius said, looking the photograph resting on Loki's hand. He remembered that face from his files.
"Yeah... I guess all set now," Loki sighed.
"Good, I hope you're ready for another trip to the Sacred Timeline." Mobius turned to walk away, deciding it was better to give him some time, but he turned back to Loki before doing so. "And if you're feeling like talking about this any day, only between us, just let me know."
And with that, he walked away. Loki smiled, standing alone outside his door.
You were right. Mobius was a good friend.
2K notes · View notes
oh-koenig-my-koenig · 4 months
Text
sending him a naughty pic
(cw: age gap 25/41, naughty pics, sexting, masturbating in a bathroom, mdni)
part before: listening to music in his car
In the morning, when I wake up, the first thing I do is send König a message. And a naughty one at that. I lift my phone over my body and my shirt over my boobs, trying to get a good shot. After a few clicks of my camera, I choose one of the pictures, tits on full display, a slight smile on my face, and send it to him with the caption “early morning thinking about you”.
Then I get up and get myself ready to go to work. While I drink my coffee, my phone dings. Twice in quick succession.
👑 thinking about you as well
And a picture of his morning wood poking out of his black boxers which has me on the floor.
God damn it, this man is going to be the end of me.
I hop into the car and shoot him a message before I drive to work.
me: you not gonna do anything about that?
The little ding of my phone while I’m still driving sends a shiver of excitement. I pull myself together and wait to look at the message when I pull into a parking space at work.
👑 about what?
Oh, he’s acting coy now. A stupid little smile forms on my lips as I make my way to my desk. Wrecking my brain what to say next.
me: well, you’re clearly happy to see me… if i was there i’d already have my hand wrapped around you
I press send, feeling very cheeky right now, but I try to shake the blush from my face. I check my emails, answering the most pressing ones, waiting impatiently for his answer. Ding. Ding.
👑 you mean like that?
His boxers are pulled down now, his hand wrapped around his girth. My breath hitches in my throat, my eyes fixed on the picture, taking in every little detail. The black sheets underneath him, the happy trail on his lower stomach, the little vein popping out. The piercing on his tip that has me wondering how it would feel to lick over it.
me: yes just like that although… i couldn’t resist running my tongue all over it taking you in my mouth
Oh fuck, I’m fully sexting at work right now.
👑 yeah? you sure it would even fit? texting with one hand is hard
The last message makes me chuckle.
me: we won’t know until i try… or maybe my hands will need to do all the work while i lick just the tip
I’m feeling hot all over while I send the message, putting the device away like it’s burning me and trying to calm down while I stare at computer screen in front of me.
Just one Ding. I look at my phone and it’s a fucking video. I groan inwardly, looking around. There’s almost nobody here, but I can’t risk being seen watching this on my phone. I quickly grab my headphones and head to the toilet for some more privacy, locking myself in one of the stalls, lowering the lid, using it as a seat.
He sent another message in the meantime.
👑 i can’t stop thinking about yesterday
Yesterday when we fucked in the back of his car. Needy and quick, almost fully clothed. So hard, the whole car was shaking.
His words make me tingle all over, while I hurriedly put my earbuds in, intently staring at the screen as I press play, anticipation halting my breath.
The black boxershorts are gone now, but I can’t help notice them lying beside him on the also black sheets, before my attention gets pulled in by the - uhm - matter at hand.
His strong big hand is moving up and down his length, softer than I would have imagined. Pulling back his foreskin, lazily pumping up his dick. His thumb grazes over the exposed tip, playing with his piercing for a little bit. I want to do that as well, is the thought that floods my mind. Preferably with my tongue. A little bead of precum forms at the top, running down his length, before his fingers stroke over it.
He pulls his hand away for a moment, and I can hear him spit. I groan. Fuck. His fingers grip his cock again, coating it in his own saliva, jerking himself faster now. The grunts and heavy breaths… he isn’t holding back at all. “Fuck.”, he sighs, and hearing him, so close, makes all of this even hotter.
And it feels dirty, but I can’t help it, my hand wanders down to my pants, hastily opening the button, lowering my zipper, my fingers disappearing into my panties, until they find my pussy. Fuck, I’m so wet, holy hell. I bite my lip to stifle any moans as I push into myself, the memories of him doing that heightening the sensations… while I wish it was him again, touching me like this.
Knowing that he is touching himself thinking about me, thinking about what we did yesterday… is turning me on. His little video, with the soft moans and the grunts, isn’t helping either. I press play again, his sounds right in my ear are spurring me on, my fingers frantically strumming over my clit now.
The visuals of him fucking his fist, the memories of him fucking me from the back, his hands digging into my hips, the slaps of skin against skin, our panting breaths...
And when I hear the little “Fuck” again, his voice deep and husky, I cum, pressing my lips together not to make a noise, while my fingertips still stroke over my wet folds. When it subsides, I finally dare to breathe again. This… was definitely something I didn’t anticipate when I came to work today, but I can’t keep the little dirty smile from my lips.
I snap a picture, with my fingers still buried deep inside me, so he knows I touched myself as well. Then I type out the message that has been circling my mind those last few minutes.
me: wish those were your fingers inside me instead
His answer comes quickly.
👑 fucking perfect
A slight smile on my face and a little tingle down my spine I’m still sitting on the put-down toilet lid, feeling the cold tiles against my shoulderblades. I just try to breathe calmly and get rid of the blush that’s surely staining my cheeks, so I can go back to work.
Ding. Ding. I straighten back up in an instant, unlocking my phone, looking at the chat.
👑 you made a total mess of me
A photo attached of his hand and dick, sticky with his cum, little pools of the white liquid on his abs and tummy.
me: and i would clean it all up 👅 👑 you’re killing me me: the french don’t call it la petite mort for nothing 👑 don’t bring the french into this
I have to cover my mouth to not fully burst out into laughter, but our little back and forth pulls me from the naughty little situation and I get out of the stall. I make my way back to my desk, my ears still burning, my cheeks bright red, and sit down on my chair, because those emails won’t answer themselves. I send him another picture of me in this state, obvious that I’m at work and still very flustered.
me: you got me like this at work so don’t ever doubt my interest in you again, big guy
👑 i’m not doubting anything anymore, promise
And he has the nerve to also send me a picture of him, lying there in his bed, against his cushions. One arm holding up the phone, the other one tangled in his hair, deliciously showing off his tattooed biceps. His strong pecs peppered with dark hair. His lips are curled into a satisfied smirk and there is just the lightest blush on his cheeks, that I’ve been noticing on him after he’s just cum. And the lids are hooded a bit, his bedroom eyes gazing into the camera, the familiar mischievous spark in them. Fuck, can he stop being this dreamy?
👑 so, speaking about my fingers inside you… can i kidnap you to my humble abode this evening?
I chuckle a little, but the message only intensifies the blush on my face, while it simultaneously makes me also type faster.
me: yes pls, i would very much like that
next part or more stuff in the Masterlist ~
thanks to @notknickers who i told about my ideas for this little chapter and they gave me even more ideas <3 to our blorbos!
610 notes · View notes
thehighladywrites · 29 days
Text
— “I’m just a girl!”
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
☀︎ — pairing: nerd/tutor azriel x bimbo/ditzy reader
☀︎ — summary: you tell azriel you don’t know what taxes are, and that you haven’t filed them ever
☀︎ — warnings: fluff, dramatic reader, azriel being sweet and educational
☀︎ — amara’s note: man i wish i was her rn💔 also this is so fucking real bc what on earth are taxes???
series masterlist
Tumblr media
“Baby, please, you have got to grasp the gravity of this situation. Not filing your taxes is no joke. You could end up behind bars for tax evasion! There was a whole mandatory course last semester, didn’t you take it?” Azriel's tone is firm, his concern painted all over his face as he stands infront of you.
When you revealed that you didn't know what taxes were or how to "file" them, Azriel got worried sick, emphasizing the importance of understanding basic responsibilities like this.
He brought you into the living room, seated you on the sofa, and stood in front of you, carefully explaining step by step why not filing taxes was illegal and how to fix the situation. However, no matter how hard you try, you can't focus on his words, your attention completely consumed by his built muscles. Your mind goes blank as you find yourself daydreaming about him taking off his shirt.
Azriel knows you’re not focusing on his words, he knows you’re ogling his body, and even though he gets warm and loves it, he needs you to focus on the topic, at least for a few minutes.
“Are you paying attention, baby?”
You honestly don’t get it at all. Like, if they take tax from you when you’re shopping, shouldn’t they already know how much you owe or whatever? And who even are the IRS? Can’t you just live your life without all this complicated stuff? Why does Azriel have to make everything so...ugh, what's the word? Complicated?
“Oh my god, Azzie! Stop it, I don’t wanna do this and I don’t understand anything. Please, I’m just a girl!” you exclaim dramatically pulling your knees to your chest as you hide your face in your hands, tears prickling in your eyes. You’re feeling completely overwhelmed by the situation and the sheer thought of dealing with stupid taxes.
Azriel sighs deeply, his brows furrowing as he takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. If he doesn’t have a gray hair by the end of the week, he’ll consider it a win. As much as he wants you to understand what is wrong with basically committing a crime, he doesn’t want you crying, he feels sick to his stomach seeing you so sad but he just has to fucking ask.
“You’re—You're just a girl— sweetheart, what does that even mean?” he asks gently, completely flabbergasted by your statement.
You fold your arms over your chest, chin held high as you say, “Ya heard me, m’just a girl. And that means i should not be doing any of this, i should be living my best life instead of thinking about whatever taxes are.”
Azriel just looks at you with raised eyebrows, man you’re stressing him the fuck out. Luckily he caught your illegal activities early otherwise you would have gone to prison for sure. Even though he thinks it was ridiculous for a person to have never done their taxes ever, he doesn’t hold you against it. He just slumps his shoulders, taking a breather. Azriel can never be mad at you, never at his sweet angel. Especially not when you look so upset, big sparkly eyes looking at him with worry.
It’s in that moment. That tiny moment, he decides to never confront you with your mistakes. Sure you almost went to jail, but Azriel is here now. He is intelligent enough to think about the more serious issues for the both of you. And he will for the rest of his life, not because he has to, but because he wants to. He wants to take care of you.
“You’re right, my love, you shouldn’t worry about this. I’ll take care of it,” Azriel assures you, his tone gentle as he tucks a strand behind your ear.
You look up at him, eyes shiny with unshed tears as your face lights up before you stand up and jump into his arms, showering his face with kisses, your excitement bubbling over.
“Awe, you're the best baby, I love you so, so, soooo much!” you exclaimed, your words flowing freely in your ditzy excitement.
He laughs shyly, still getting nervous when you show him affection. “I love you too, beautiful.”
Tumblr media
🏷️: @ithan-holstroms-girl @whatdoyxumean @honeybeeboobaa @to-be-written @sidthedollface2 @stasiereads @andrewgarfield2022 @amara-moonlight @thescooby-gang @linoisqt @mischiefmanagers @tortured-artists @dwyniii @scoobies @harryshoobies69 @caroline-books @kalulakunundrum @meshelleexplosionmurder @danikamariewrites @clairebear08 @redbleedingrose @jeannineee @rowaelinsdaughter @nocasdatsgay @v3lv3tf0x @liati2000 @teenageeggscissorslawyer @impossibelle @stonerpersona @dreamlandreader @djaaaa @callmeblaire @thelov3lybookworm @polli05927 @ahitsalyssa @evergreenlark @thegirlintheshadows101 @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @readychilledwine @daycourtofficial @azriels-shadowsinger @sapphicmsmarvel @hungryforbatboys @justasillylittlegoofyguy @luvmoo @emryb @meritxellao @mochibabycakes @artists-ally @azzieslittlebunny @viatorem-maris @berryzxx @riddlesb1tch @sweetshifter @lilah-asteria
435 notes · View notes
teatreeoilll · 3 months
Text
𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐲 (𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐨 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
Tumblr media
˚• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • .
w/c - 0.6k content - MDNI! 18 + ! fem!reader, porn, sub!Choso, lil crack at the end because hehe, quick drabble because this anemic man is really too cute ahh
• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . °
You were gorgeous and naked, letting out loud, lewd moans on top of Choso so shamelessly he thought he was going to empty himself inside you each time you lowered yourself teasingly slow on his sensitive cock. He couldn't remember how you ended up on top of him - but he was so desperate to keep it going that he dug his fingers deep into your thighs as he groaned, "Fuck, like that - Fu - ck, please don't stop - "
"Hmm?" You halted your movements, grinding against his groin one last time before bending down to face his crimson-colored features as you murmured with a devilish smirk, "What is it, Cho?"
"Don't - ah - " He bit his lip, his eyes fixed on the way his cock disappeared into your body, "Don't stop." His hands reached to grab your waist as he desperately tried to lift you up again, "Please."
You placed a finger on his lips, gliding it softly against them to release his bottom lip from the grip of his teeth, "You'll hurt yourself if you do that," you breathed into his ear, "I said I'd go slow so that wouldn't happen, right?"
He twitched inside you at the sweet tone of your words, pushing his hips up, but straddled by your weight, it was barely the friction he was looking for, "Please," he choked out again, "let me - "
"M-mm," You shook your head, running your fingers soothingly through his hair, "will you be a good boy?"
He could barely speak, his glazed eyes locking themselves with yours, "I - will - " he rasped out as you lifted your hips up to sink down on his cock again, "Just - shit - " he groaned when you resumed your pace, clenching against his cock like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth, digging your fingers deep into his chest.
"Will you be a good boy for me, Cho?" You repeated, biting back your moans, "Say it," you breathed, your voice mixing with the squelching sounds filling the room, "Say it for me, Cho,"
Choso was dizzy. The heat spreading under his skin threatened to burn holes through his body the more you raised and lowered your hips. He relished in the bounce of your breasts and the little beads of sweat forming on your forehead, a reminder of how hard you worked to make him feel so good, "I'm - fuck," he panted, "I'm your good - "
-
"Wake up," Yuji rasped, still trying to blink the sleep off of his eyes as he furrowed his brows, hovering over Choso's flushed face, "nightmares again?"
It took Choso a moment to release the iron grasp he had on the sheets, still getting accustomed to the sudden silence of the bedroom, "I - uh - brother," he muttered, his mind still plagued with your image. No matter how hard he tried, every time he blinked, the same scene appeared in his mind. It couldn't be, could it?
Yuji's expression grew more worried the longer he didn't get an answer, "That bad?"
Choso straightened up in his bed, "I keep seeing her."
"Seeing who?" Yuji puzzled.
"(Y/N)," Choso uttered, his expression turning solemn, "Is she our sister?"
"Huh? Why do you keep thinking everyone's related to you?" Yuji asked, his hand coming up to rub his temple - oh, oh. "Is she naked when you see her?"
"She is," Choso quickly affirmed.
"Dear god," Yuji muttered.
"Huh?"
"Nothing, just - " Yuji locked eyes with him, "She not - just - " shit, how do I - never mind - "Nobody's related to anybody, just go back to sleep, yeah?"
977 notes · View notes
brabblesblog · 4 months
Text
Sounds like a plan.
Drabble set right after act II’s confession scene. What if Tav didn’t feel quite alright with Astarion’s manipulation, and tried to just go along with it for his sake?
Angst with a happy ending. Also a tiny bit of Gale. Enjoy!
Read on AO3.
Masterlist.
He starts to notice when you stop smiling at him.
Oh, you'd smirk and laugh when talking to him, but that wasn't it - you just didn't smile.
That one he'd craved so much to see, the one that made your eyes crinkle and your nose flare a little. That smile. He hadn't seen it since the night he confessed his feelings to you.
He’d worry about it more, if you two didn’t spend every waking moment together. If you didn’t move into his tent. Didn’t cuddle with him every night, and woke up tangled in his arms every dawn.
So he put it aside for now. Your relationship was a new and fragile thing, and he dared not risk it.
That is, until he noticed you smiling like that with Gale. Astarion had just been walking back to camp from a hunt, when he had heard your voice and Gale’s and had inadvertently began to eavesdrop.
You had been sitting by the campfire with the wizard, reading one of those raunchy romance novels Shadowheart had given you. The two of you were huddled close together, knees touching, chortling and snorting as you read the passages aloud.
“I don’t think elves have… appendages of that size,” Gale remarks after a particularly salacious line. “Would they?” He shoots you a particularly nasty smirk.
You laugh, all pretense thrown aside. “I haven’t seen enough elf cock to know,” you mumble. “Or any other type of cock, for that matter.”
Gale chuckles. “You’ve been sleeping with one, have you not?” There is a small note of sadness in Gale’s voice when he says this, and you note it. You had turned the wizard down for Astarion.
The laugh that was about to come out of you dies at Gale’s words. You remember sleeping with Astarion, remember how your relationship started, how-
You shake your head, trying to clear out those thoughts. You want to just have fun right now, not think about your complicated situation. Gale notices, and he closes the spicy book. He looks to you, those large eyes holding nothing but affection and concern for you.
“Is something the matter? Anything you need, I’ll be there,” he reminds. He may not be your partner, but he’s still one of your closest friends in camp.
“Actually.” You weigh your options. No one seemed to be here at camp, and so you decide to confide in your friend. “Yes. There.. there is a problem. With.. with Astarion and I.”
Astarion initially rolls his eyes as he hears this conversation. It’s just banter, and he doesn’t mind. What made him stay there and listen in for a moment was the sound of your laughter. It was so genuine and he had not heard it in what felt like forever. He felt a pang of jealousy that of all people, Gale had been the one to bring it out of you. As he prepared to go back to your shared tent, he finally heard you mention his name. He froze, immediately rooted to the spot by fear. He had to know what was wrong. He had to fix it before you left him.
Gale puts a comforting hand on your knee. “Then I will lend you my ears. I shall keep your confidence.”
“It’s- it’s hard to explain,” you begin, speaking gently. “Does it make sense if I say I understand why he would do something he did, but it hurts anyways?”
“More than you know,” Gale replies somberly. “You understand their reasons. Sympathize, even. But you can’t help how you feel.” He pauses, considering it. “Does he know?”
“No.” You shake your head, answering without hesitation. “I didn’t want to give him more things to worry about. He..”
He already has too many things on his plate, you figured, and your petty little issues are nothing compared to what he’s going through.
Gale nods. “And you didn’t want to burden him. I understand.” He clears his throat. “I’m not a good choice for advice regarding relationships, however- it’s common knowledge that hiding things from each other so early on is a portent for disaster. I hope you know that.”
“I know, Gale,” you say, your tone sharpening. Then you let out a sigh, forcing yourself to calm down. “I just don’t want to hurt him any more than he’s already been hurt. I can’t hate him for what he did to me, but I want to hate him for how much it hurts.”
Your voice breaks at the last moment, and you bury yourself in Gale’s shoulder. He wraps a comforting arm around you, letting you finally let out those feelings you’ve been bottling in.
“I thought,” you gasp, “that he’d finally be the one person to actually want me for me.”
Astarion, hidden in the periphery of the camp, sees and hears everything. He keeps silent, as his own heart rips at the sound of your sobbing. Of course. How could he have been so blind? How could he have just assumed you were okay with what he did? After his confession, you had said everything was okay, and he had taken it at face value.
Gods damned it, Astarion thinks. As the conversation dies and you gradually shift to just sobbing into Gale’s shoulder, Astarion slips away.
You head back to your shared tent and hour or so later, opening the flaps. To your surprise, your lover sits there. He snaps upwards the moment your face pokes in, as if he had been waiting for just that exact moment.
“You’re back early,” you say, slipping in and closing the flap behind you. You drop to your knees and crawl towards the bedroll beside him, exhausted.
“Caught a boar quite early on. I daresay I got a bit lucky,” is the reply, delivered in a tone that just sounded off to your ears. He moves to wrap an arm around you, pulling you close to him. “And you, darling? Catching up with the wizard?” He tries to go for nonchalant, and absolutely fails it.
You notice it then, the way he’s actually not even breathing. The way his chest is stiff as a board, the way his fingers tremble.
“Astarion,” you squeeze your eyes shut. “You heard.”
“Every word,” he says, a pained sigh escaping his lips. His arm stops pulling you close. You turn to face him, and you see his face, more pained than you have ever seen him before. When he had confessed, he looked frightened. This time he looked resigned. You watch him clench his jaw, preparing to say the words he knew he should say.
Astarion takes a small, sharp breath. He meets your gaze.
“I hurt you.” The statement is quiet, emotionless. “You shouldn’t have told me you were okay, darling. You should have let me know.” His jaw works again, and he struggles to say the next words.
“I’ve put your things in your pack. You can leave whenever you wish.”
He tries not to cry. Not to beg for you to stay. Because you deserve to go. You deserve real, and if you can’t be real with him, then he isn’t the one who deserves you. Swallowing, his hand caresses your cheek. “I am sorry.”
Sorry he can’t give you what you deserve. Sorry he hurt you. Sorry he was what he was.
You sit up. You try to see what he’s thinking, to see if this relationship still had anything to salvage. But here in the dark, it’s very hard to tell. You brace yourself; the thing missing here was communication, and you’ll be damned if you don’t try to do just that before it all blows up.
“Do you want this, Astarion? Us?”
A quick, quiet hiss of pain breaks the silence. His eyes brighten, filling up with tears. They don’t fall just yet.
“Yes. Gods, yes.”
Your own shoulders drop, and you exhale.
“Then I’m going nowhere. But I suppose we should talk about what you overheard.”
He exhales, relief flooding his features. The guardedness isn’t quite gone yet, however. He makes no move to close the gap. Instead he sits up, matching your position.
“What else is there to say? I manipulated you. You felt a lot less gracious about it than you originally thought. Seems about the sum of it, no?”
There is a little defensiveness there. As if he’s already building walls in the event of your departure.
“Somewhat, but not quite.” You clear your throat. “I don’t blame you. I’m not upset at you. Or resentful. Or whatever else you think I am. Before anything else, I want you to know that.”
His eyes widen, surprised. He had overheard the conversation; he should have known this. But hearing it so directly said was different. You can see his shoulders sag as the tension leaves his body, as that terrible knot in his heart starts to loosen. He nods, acknowledging your statement and an encouragement to continue.
“I’m just hurt.” That was the root of all of it, really. “I’m hurt, but I didn’t want you to know. You already suffer so much, that it felt…” you trail off, trying to find the words.
“Frivolous, darling?” He suggests. As you nod he continues. “Just because I’m going through things doesn’t mean there’s no space… for your feelings,” he begins tentatively. He takes one more small breath, then reaches across to take your hand, just like he did that night he confessed.
“I’ve spent two hundred years carrying my own burdens. You have shared my load. Please. Let me lighten yours too.”
You scan his face, on instinct, trying to see any signs of insincerity. There is none. His eyes are round and open, and his hand remains on yours, palm up, an invitation for you to come to him.
You choke back tears, leaning forward to touch your foreheads together. “It’s just that I wished you were.. that we started differently. That you wanted me..”
“For you,” he says, repeating what you said to Gale. “I know. And I might not have, at the start. I might have seen you as a means to an end.”
He gathers his courage and moves to wrap his arms around you. “But now I do,” he whispers against your ear. “I want you for you.”
You melt into his arms then, moulding yourself to his torso as you cry yet again. But unlike your tears when talking to Gale, this feels like relief. Like home.
He shushes you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “You said you aren’t upset at all. But you can. We can..” he thinks for a moment, then proceeds. “We can take some time apart, if that’s what you want. We can take a step back and see if we can end up back here again.”
Saying that felt like torture for him. But he knew it needed to be said. You needed to have that option.
You shake your head. “No. I’m- I would very much rather be in this, whatever this is,” you say with a teary laugh. “But you’re right. I think I’ll still need some time to go through it and accept everything.”
“Just don’t forget, Astarion. It’s not your fault. It’s not,” you say vehemently. “I’m just hurt, but I’m not holding you responsible.”
He wants to protest, but knows better than to. Instead he nods. Carefully he cups your face in his hands, and you shiver as his cool palms make contact with your wet cheeks.
He kisses the tears away, each kiss a soft, feather-light brush against your skin.
“Thank you,” he murmurs. For your kindness. For your forgiveness and grace. For your love, although he couldn’t even use that word yet, even to himself. For the gift of yourself, always so generously given, from the very start.
He wishes he could someday live up to your love. That he would be worth everything you give him. He tries to voice this out.
“If you’re staying, then… it gives me a challenge, mm?” He tries to smile. “I’ll try to be worth the trouble. But no promises, darling.”
You huff out a laugh. This beautiful, strong, insufferable man. How could he think he wasn’t worth it to you? But you understood. You felt the same way.
“I’ll hold you to that,” you say. “As for me, well. I don’t imagine I’ll ever be worth all that, either.”
“Then we’ll be worthless together,” he says without missing a beat. If you only knew how special he thought you were. How worthy. How you make him want to be better.
He presses his lips to yours, finally. Sealing your words together. A promise for you two to share each other’s burdens. Together.
“Sounds like a plan,” you agree.
679 notes · View notes
bouncybongfairy · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Stress Relief
Bakugou x Fem Reader
Summary: Aizawa offers you extra credit to tutor Bakugou for an upcoming test. Need I say more?
Word Count: 1.5k+
Ref Account: @kaionyx
TW: Rough Smut, Oral Female & Male Receiving, Facial.
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
Sitting in your room and dissociating never felt so good. It was finally the end of the week and you felt properly chewed up and spit out. Muscles were sore and brain was fried, all you wanted to do was sit in silence. Emptying out your backpack and organizing everything on to your desk. The stress you were under was slowly chipping away at you. Hearing a knock at the door made your eyes roll, the last thing you wanted was to interact with anyone. Wiping the scowl off your face, you go to greet the unwanted guest. The feelings of annoyance quickly turned into insecurity once you saw it was Aizawa and Bakugou. Trying to casually fix your appearance as he began speaking in his monotone voice. 
“Hello, sorry I didn’t mean to come to your dorm directly but this is a time sensitive matter. Bakugou needs a passing grade on this next test, I’m willing to bump your grade up 5% if you agree to help,” he explains, making Bakugou’s frown deepen. 
“Oh of course, we can start right now,” you said, practically beaming. Having your grade pushed up five percent was a God sent gift at this point in the semester. 
“Wonderful, Bakugou, please try to be open to the tutoring,” Aizawa said before walking away. 
You gestured for him to come in, made you feel nervous watching him take in the room. All your posters and collectables are now starting to feel a little dorky. Not really sure what to say, you just sat in silence as he took in your room. You were pretty soft spoken and he was anything but that. It often worried you seeing how dark he was. It was so apparent that his anger issues were coming from a deep wound from the past. When all your friends would gossip, they talked about him with such vascularity and objectification was quite sad. As much as you tried to discourage this, there were times you agreed. The intimidating look he always had written across his face. The way his pent up rage came out during combat training. 
It frustrated you knowing that he could overpower you. Any time you were paired to spar, he always managed to out maneuver you. Pinning you to the ground or wall. As much as it affected the confidence you had in your combat abilities, it made you feel warm and fuzzy. The last time the two of you were sparing, he grabbed your forearm so hard it left a bruise in the shape of his hand. You stared at it in the mirror for a while, confused why you liked it so much. Running your fingertips over the purple and brown blotches. Thinking about the way he looked into your eyes when throwing you to the ground. Walking away with no care or regard for you physically or mentally. It made you melt even though you’d never admit it. The two of you were sitting at your desk, helping him with his English assignment; he was getting frustrated and you were enjoying it a little too much.
“That just doesn’t make any fucking sense. The assignment was to summarize the fucking article. I don’t have to talk about my feelings about it, it’s not even specified!” he said, raising his voice. 
“I could understand you don’t want to give your opinion on it but the teacher isn’t going to accept it until you do. You’re being ridiculous,” you huffed the last part under your breath. 
“Excuse me?” he asked, folding his arms. 
“Nothing, i’m just saying the assignment-” you started but became interrupted. 
“No, go on. Explain why I’m ridiculous, I wanna hear you say it,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows and grinding his teeth. 
“You are ridiculous. Are you so ignorant that you don’t understand how lazy you are? You act like academics is optional and that you can rely solely on your combat. Nobody else will, so I'll be the first to tell you: Thinking physical prowess will get you where you wanna be is stupid and delusional,” you say, starting to pack his papers up. 
“If anyone is stupid and delusional it’s you, we both know the real reason you accepted this little study session,” he scoffs standing up. 
“What do you mean by that?” you ask, knowing exactly what he was implying. 
“Do you think I don’t notice you staring at me? Finding any opportunity to throw yourself at me. I can only imagine what runs through your head while you watch me. I have an idea by the way your cheeks flush and your pupils get wide. The way your body shakes when we spar. It’s stupid and delusional for you to think I'd ever want anything more than your body,” he said, now backing you against the wall.
You weren’t sure what to think, part of you felt like this was him showing his interest in you. Another part of you was worried he was just being cruel. Like he was stringing you along, trying to make you look desperate just to pull away.
“Interesting way to say you want my body, if you wanted me that bad you could just ask,” you patronize. 
“I wouldn’t have too,” he said, grabbing you by the throat and pushing you against the desk. 
You were now halfway sitting on the edge of the desk. Legs dangling off, separated by him grinding against you. Letting go of your hair, holding your face in his hands. The kiss was sloppy and wet, not being able to get enough of each other’s touch. You reached down and ran your hands up his back towards his shoulder. Lightly scratching down as he started kissing your neck. Nipping and sucking hickies on you, his heavy breathing giving your body goosebumps. Your hands begin to wander, fingers dipping into the back of his pants. Tracing all the way around, stopping when you felt his happy trail. He sits back on the office chair and stares you down. This makes you blush, sliding off  and onto your knees. Your body was slightly under the desk, he took your glasses off and set them down.. 
Genuinely being gentle, which made you feel more safe to be vulnerable and vulgar. Taking his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him. He moaned softly as he collected your hair in his hand. Using the other to stroke your cheek and face. Eventually you start bobbing your head up and down. Looking up and watching his reaction, he huffs and grunts that pour out of his mouth. His eyebrows furrowed together and sweat started to bead on his forehead. Feeling him get harder and harder as things started getting more sloppy. His hands were getting rougher, both of them now laced in your hair. Helping fuck your head down on his shaft faster. Cursing and moaning, starting to buck his hips. Making you gag around and spit around his cock. He pulls you by the hair off him with a loud pop sound. Grabbing himself to smack and rub his tip against your lips as he tips over the edge. Covering your mouth and chin with his cum. 
Expecting him to be done but being taken off guard when he grabs your jaw. Bringing you to his level and smashes his lips against yours. Moaning into the kiss, being taken completely by surprise from how brazen he was being. He pulls away, a mix of saliva and his cum dripping down both your mouths. Standing up, he grabs your waist and lifts you on the desk. Sitting back down and spreading your legs, using his fingers to massage your clit. Moving down and eventually pushing a finger inside you. Bringing his lips down and starting to eat you out. Flicking his tongue, moaning as he felt you tighten around his fingers. Increasing the speed of both his hands and mouth. Stroking himself off, seeing you in so much pleasure was making his cock feel touch starved. Reaching your hands down and pulling and yanking. His hair was sweaty and you could feel him breathing hard against your core. 
You tried holding back your orgasm as long as possible, wanting to enjoy the pleasure before becoming overly sensitive. He pushes a third finger which makes you fall  over the edge. Feeling the walls of your cunt spasm and tighten makes him cum for a second time. Standing from his chair, rubbing his tip against your clit while continuing to finger you. Making eye contact as his warm cum covers your lower stomach. Resting your foreheads together, trying to catch your breath. He almost dozed off but eventually realized it was getting late. You were passed out, not wanting to wake you up, he carries you to the bed. Grabbing a towel and wiping you down. He didn’t want to go through your clothes, so he slipped his tee-shirt over you. Walking out in his tanktop, Kirishima gave him a side eye as he left your room.
413 notes · View notes
flemingsfreckles · 2 months
Text
Be a Good Teammate
Tumblr media
Jessie Fleming x USWNT!Reader
Words: 3.4k
Preview: After Jessie misses her penalty in the Gold Cup semi final, she’s found practicing kicks by her old friend and college teammate.
Warnings: some cursing, a little angst, but nothing else too crazy.
A/N: I haven’t written anything in maybe 4-5 years. Recently fallen back into reading and then watching the Canada/US game sparked some inspiration and here we are writing again.
You could hear her before you saw her. You had come out of the dressing room well after the rest of your teammates. They hardly showered just throwing on fresh clothes in a rush to begin their celebration for moving on to the finals of the Gold Cup. The stadium had fallen silent with the exception of a faint noise coming from the far end of the tunnel toward the pitch.
It was the repetitive sound of a ball being kicked followed shortly by the swish of the net. One after the next, boot on ball, swish of the net, boot on ball swish of the net. Working like a clock, a perfect machine, that was until the sound of the net was replaced by the ringing of the crossbar and the frustration of the kicker.
“Stupid fucking penalty” a frustrated voice rang out. The sound of the voice halted your steps, you knew that voice. Jessie. You quickly recognize the voice as your former best friend and UCLA teammate. Once you hear her, you quickly realized what was happening.
You’d seen her do this when you played together, anything from missed headers, missed passes, missed shots, and now with missed penalties. Jessie was known for being a hard worker, her focus and determination was admirable by her teammates and led her to earning the right to wear the captain's armband. She pushed herself to be better and while it was that mentality that turned her into one of Canada’s best, it also came with a whole other side.
She was hard on herself, more so than anyone else, and she took it to extremes. You had watched in college as she would spend hours watching film of her mistakes, tearing her performances apart, nitpicking every step she took. Criticizing every mistake to the point of obsession. One bad touch or one missed scoring opportunity would cloud her brain, unable to focus on anything else until she could fix that mistake, that mistake was all that would matter to Jessie.
“Be a good teammate to yourself Jessie.” Those were the words you told her constantly in college when you’d find her overworking herself. Running extra laps after an already grueling practice. Taking extra shots after a game, refusing to stop the repetitions until they were in her eyes, perfect. “Treat yourself how you treat all your other teammates, you support us, you provide positive corrections, you're kind. Talk to yourself the same way you talk with me or anyone else on this team, be a good teammate to yourself.”
And that’s how you knew exactly what Jessie was doing out on that field. She was retaking her penalty from earlier in the game, the one she had kicked into the arms of your team’s goalkeeper, letting the young and your teammates erupt in celebration behind her as she walked with her head down to her team’s bench.
Now you are stuck with your brain telling you to let her be, she’s not going to want to see you, especially on a night like tonight. Just go celebrate with your teammates, you thought.
You and Jessie had been close in college, so close most of your teammates were convinced you two were secretly dating. And to be fair to them, you wish you’d made a move on Jessie but you didn’t. Too worried about losing your friend and still trying to figure out yourself in the process. Now your college days were years behind you and you both moved away after graduation to play professionally, her with Chelsea and now in Portland and you with Bayren Munich and more recently with Seattle.
Your communication with your former best friend had rapidly declined over the years, you both got caught up in your new lives, new clubs, and Jessie had gotten a girlfriend. It wasn’t public information at the time but you were close enough that she shared the news, gushing about the girl over one of your nightly phone call. You knew deep down that girl is what pushed you away. Even though you knew it was never going to work out between you and Jessie, it didn’t make hearing about her new girl any less painful.
So you pulled back, with going from long facetime calls, to short catch ups, to texts. It seemed mutual as Jessie followed suit reaching out less frequently. She figured you were busy and had forgotten about her, seeing you make new friends in your new teams. These days you were lucky if you saw a “nice game” “congrats on the win” or even “happy birthday” come across your phone from the Canadian.
No bad blood stood between you two that she was aware of, except for maybe right now as you stood wearing the crest of the team that had just ended her tournament hopes.
While your brain was telling you to head for the parking lot and leave, forgetting you heard her taking the shots, your heart refused to let your feet move in any direction but toward the pitch. As you turned the corner she came into view. The bright white 17 with FLEMING printed neatly across the back of her red jersey became visible as you watched her set up her next round of shots.
Now you were frozen again, standing just inside the edge of the pitch, only your eyes moving, watching as she placed a ball, moved backward, took a deep breath and took the shot. It sailed into the upper left of the net. You watched as Jessie once again stepped back to ready herself, having already placed the next ball while you were watching her first one go in the net. Again she took a breath and fired into the net. She continued just as you had heard her before, booting the ball into the net. Over and over and over.
The stadium that had previously been filled with fans shouting, coaches calling out, music, liveliness was now eerily silent, just the sound of Jessie methodical work taking place. You weren’t even sure how long you had been standing there watching her, you’d maybe seen her take 10 or 12 shots, all screaming into the back of the net. The systematic movement and sound had lulled you into zoning out, only snapped back into reality when you realized the noise had stopped.
Jessie was moving toward the goal, collecting all the balls she had kicked, only now you could hear her mumbling to herself. Unable to make out what she was saying, you watched as she continued moving all the balls back to start her drill once again. She had turned around, her face more visible to you, eyes still down looking at the balls she was kicking. You could see her cheeks were still bright red and her skin was shiny with sweat, or maybe it was rain. Her mumbling had turned into her regular voice, allowing you to make out every couple of words.
“idiot…if I just made it… don’t deserve this…” You watched her rip the captain's armband from her bicep, throwing it aside.
You felt your chest grow tight, seeing and hearing Jessie so angry at herself was painful. She was the kindest soul, she had been your first friend at school and one of the only ones who stuck around through all 4 years. the only thing she didn’t deserve is to feel this way about her performance.
Maybe i should leave, you thought, let her work through this, she’ll be okay with some time, how much can you really help at this point, it’s over, there’s no point in making her more upset and,
“FUCK” Jessie’s voice intrudes into your thoughts as she punts the last ball with such anger that instead of landing just outside the box like the rest, she sends it sailing, landing only a couple of feet from you. You look at the ball rolling toward your feet, being slowed greatly by the wet grass.
“Sorry,” Jessie hollers with a wave and a different, more polite tone in her voice. She begins jogging over to you, “I didn’t realize they were coming to do pitch maintenance already, I’ll pack up and go-“ she starts to ramble as you realize she hasn’t noticed that it’s you who is standing in front of her.
You move your eyes down at the grass, kicking some up unsure of what to do now while you wait for her to reach you and realize you’re in fact not the maintenance crew.
“What are you doing here?” Her accusatory tone returns and you look up to meet her eyes. Just as you’d seen from across the field her cheeks remained bright red, a layer of sweat making her whole face shine. Her lips are slightly parted and her breathing is quick. Her brown eyes that you used to stare at everyday are now puffy, as though she shed some tears following the game and you can’t help but stare for a second at her black eye. She cocks her head at you and you realize she’s waiting for an answer.
“Um, I just… I heard you. And I just wanted to check on you,” you realize you should’ve spent some of the time you were watching her kick thinking of what to say to her.
“I don’t need your pity party,” Jessie scoffs at you “don’t you have some celebrating to do?”
“I’m not here to pity you,” her change in tone makes you get defensive.
“Then what? You’re here to tell me it’s okay? That it’s fine it’s just a penalty, and maybe it feels that way to you,” she stabs her index finger into your chest, her touch surprises you. Both being midfielders you had contact during the game but that was different.
Before you were just the opponent in the same way she was yours, you were aware of her but in that moment she was just Jessie Fleming, a Canada’s midfielder who you needed to get the ball from. Now she was Jess, the girl you were roommates with, the girl whose shoulder you fell asleep on during a long travel day, the girl who you tutored in calculus while she in return tutored you in physics. Her whole face now just inches from yours. You share a similar height with the midfielder, leaving you eye to eye. You can feel her breath as she continues.
“You made your penalty, and you don’t have to wear the armband, you don’t have to sit with the expectation of never missing a penalty, but I do. And you didn’t let your whole team down, I did. So maybe it seems like not a big deal to you because you’re not the one going home!”
You feel like sinking into one of the puddles on the grass, this was a bad idea, you shouldn’t have bothered her. Before you can think of something to say Jessie starts again.
“Nothing? You have nothing to say to me? Then again, why did you come out here? To gloat? Because last time I checked, we’re not even friends anymore and that’s no fault of mine, that was all you, you ignored me, so why even bother? Just leave me alone, go away.”
Her words telling you that she doesn’t even consider you a friend anymore, sting. Sure it was nowhere near like it was before but you still would classify Jessie as a friend. You have every urge to tell her the truth, that you couldn’t stand seeing her with someone else and to protect yourself you took a step back. You wanted to tell her you never meant for it to silence your relationship, you just wanted to respect hers and that meant distancing yourself. Instead, you opted with the easy way out, “I’m sorry.”
“Whatever,” her brown eyes roll as she turns away from you.
“Jess, wait,” the short form of her name falling out of your mouth on accident. Hoping she’ll stay, you reach out grabbing her wrist preventing her from turning all the way away from you.
“I promise I didn’t come here to give you pity, honestly I’m not sure what I’m doing here.” You feel her shake your grasp from her wrist but instead of leaving she turns back facing you. “I just, I heard you and, I,” You try looking into her eyes but she’s staring at her hands that are fidgeting with the hem of her jersey.
“You already said that.” Jessie cuts you off
“I know, I know, I just,” you bring your hands up to cover your eyes rubbing your fingers along your forehead, hoping you’ll be able to squeeze the right words out of your brain. “I think I wanted to see you.” You admit finally, hoping it’s not too much at the moment.
“We just played 120 minutes against each other, you had plenty of chances to see me.” She throws back at you, her brown eyes still avoiding yours.
You begin to feel a tightness in your throat, a feeling all too familiar to you, making it harder to breathe, you start blinking away the tears that are trying to surface. You’re grateful she isn’t looking at your face. you recognize the same emotions that you felt when she had told you she was in a relationship.
Jessie had been so excited to tell you, and you tried your best to act excited for her, you really did. You had forced yourself to ask questions you really didn’t want to know the answers to. Asking about their first date, first kiss, other firsts, what Jessie liked about her, providing the typical best friend interrogation. What Jessie didn’t know was when she had hung up the phone, telling you she had to go as she was going to spend the night at her girlfriend’s, the tightness had taken over and you burst into tears.
In the moment it didn’t make sense to you, you summed it up to missing her and missing spending time with her. It took a couple months to realize your feelings were ones of jealousy. You wanted to be the girl she spent her nights with. You wanted Jessie to call up Janine and gush about you, not some other girl. And that’s when you started to pull away.
“That’s not the same, I, I just wanted to see you,” you let out a shaky breath, trying to relax before tears spill over, “I miss you.” The words come out as a whisper, almost quiet enough that you hope Jessie didn’t hear and you can move on.
A silence falls between the two of you, Jessie’s fingers are still playing with the hem of her shirt, her eyes glued to them. You look up, staring at what would be a starry night had it not been for the rain clouds covering the sky. It feels like time stops, neither of you moving, no one says anything. You stand there, looking up, while Jessie stands, looking down.
“Why now?” Jessie’s voice cracks, you can’t tell for a second if she’s looking for an answer but she continues on, “You could’ve called, or at least texted.”
“It takes you 3 to 5 business days to respond to a text.” A small laugh comes out as you say the sentence, hoping it’ll lighten the mood.
“I know, but for you,” she pauses slightly, “I would’ve answered in a heartbeat.”
Her words catch you off guard and you swing your head down. You unexpectedly meet Jessie's eyes. She’s got one hand running through her damp hair, the other resting by her side. Her stare feels intense, being under her watch gives you a feeling that sits somewhere between comfort and cowardice.
You’re lost for words, racking your brain for the right thing to say. Part of you says fuck it, tell her you love her, that you want her in every way, tell her you were jealous, you couldn’t stand seeing her with another girl, you want her to be yours and only yours.
The other and far more logical part of you says push it down, you don’t want to scare her off, you want your friend back, even if it means hearing about her girlfriend.
You’re saved from having to make a choice between the angel and devil that split your brain as your phone buzzed and a slew of texts from Lynn and Midge came in. You quickly grab your phone from your sweatpant pocket, turning the ringer off to silence the tone from going off again. You quickly skim the texts which consist of variations of ‘where are you’. You catch the time at the top of your screen realizing the game had ended nearly 2 hours ago. Sure, you had done some media, showered, and changed, but you hadn’t realized how late it was and just how long you had been standing around either watching or talking with Jessie.
“You should probably join them.” Jessie says, almost as if she could see your texts from your teammates asking when you were going to be at the bar.
“Yeah I probably should, I didn’t realize the time. The last thing I need is them sending a search party and finding me with the enemy.” You nudge her with your elbow. She gives you a quick tight lipped smile.
“I’ll uh, I’ll see you around?” You add in a raise in your voice in hopes she takes that as an invitation.
“I don’t know,” Jessie pauses, eyebrows creasing as she thinks of what to say next. “It’s just, I’m dealing with a lot right now, moving, captain responsibilities, some personal things. I just don’t know if I can add another thing on my plate right now. Maybe give me some time?” Her response isn’t the one you wanted, but you realize it’s better than a complete shutdown on her end. At least some small part of her was open to letting you back in.
“Of course, I understand the moving countries part, I mean. The rest of your stuff I don’t know about, I mean the personal stuff, and then the captain part.” You find yourself rambling at her. “But yeah that’s fine. I’ll be going.” You point your thumb in the direction of the tunnel.
She turns away, this time you let her walk away. You watch her for a moment before turning yourself and heading back to the tunnel toward your car. Just when you reach the start of the tunnel you hear it again. The sound of Jessie’s boot kicking the ball and the sound of the ball hitting the net. You turn around watching as she grabs another ball between her hands, rolls it around and then bends down to place it.
“Hey Fleming,” you call to her as she releases the ball on the ground and starts to map out her steps. You watch as she turns back over her shoulder locking eyes with you, raising her eyebrows nonverbally acknowledging your call, “Be a good teammate to yourself.”
You carry on to the parking lot, picking up your phone and calling Lynn to let her know you were leaving the stadium now. While you were too distracted on the phone, what you didn’t realize was the absence of the sound of Jessie kicking the ball.
Your words had caught her off guard, she hadn’t heard it in a few years, you last said it to her after she had a rough game at Chelsea. The simple phrase brought back feelings surrounding you that she had pushed down for a while now. She stood, staring at the ball she had just placed, taking a deep breath like she did before every penalty. Only this time, instead of stepping toward the ball with force, she simple walked toward it, picked it up and headed to grab the bag and clean up. She realized she had punished herself enough, the loss still hurt, but with your words and the smile on your face as you said it fresh in her mind, it hurt a little less.
419 notes · View notes
xxchumanixx · 2 months
Note
heyy can you do a tim bradford x fem reader where she is like his girlfriend or even fiancé and she gets arrested because she got in a physical fight with some other woman and when tim saw her handcuffed and brought into the station he told the officer who brought her in something like “i will handle it from here” or something like that. hope that makes sense
Double the ring
Tumblr media
Tim Bradford x fem!reader
Warnings/Tags: language, fluff, mentions of violence (only if you squint real hard)
Word count: 776
Authors Note: Hey love, thanks for the request! I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you'll like it!
Enjoy!
Tumblr media
"You're fucking kidding me..." Tim mumbled as he saw you - handcuffed, a bruise on your cheek.
An officer brought you in, walking you to the cells. Tim followed, jogging to catch up with you.
You heard him, before you saw him. "Y/N!" he called after you, worry lacing his voice though he tried to hide it, as the officer told you to sit down on a bench.
You did as you were told, looking up at your fiancé, who stopped right in front of you, as the other officer cuffed one hand to the bench.
Shaking his head slightly Tim looked at the other officer. "I'll handle it from here." he told her, to which she nodded, before she left.
When she was out of sight he crouched down, carefully inspecting the bruise on your face. "What the hell happened?" he wanted to know, brows furrowed.
You weren't one to do something criminal or even illegal - hell you apologized when someone knocked you over - so he couldn't place what caused you to end up being arrested.
"When I was at the mall there was a woman who wanted to have the shoes I just bought - high heels. She tried to rip them from my hands, as one of them slipped and hit her straight in the face. She thought I attacked her, so she hit me - thus the bruise. Someone called the cops, she's at the hospital right now - caused a scene that she could have internal bleeding - from a hit in her face!"
Sighing, he tried to stifle a laugh, causing you to roll your eyes, as you slightly pushed him. Trying to keep his balance he narrowed his eyes at you.
"Did you just attack a police officer?" he wanted to know, chin held high. Rolling your eyes again you smiled. "Am I double arrested now?"
He huffed, shaking his head at your antics.
"I need you to take off your shoes, socks and jewelry." he explained. Wiggling your fingers in front of him you grinned. "You mean this one?"
Your engagement ring glittered in the ceiling light, causing him to smile proudly, as his eyes fixed on it.
"Nah, keep it on there." he told you, pointing at your other hand, that was cuffed to the bench. "Look, now you have two rings."
Huffing, you shook your head. "Yeah, double the ring, double the luck."
Chuckling to himself he took your things, before doing the necessary paperwork.
"How long am I going to be in here?" you wanted to know, sighing. Your day couldn't have gotten any worse.
He snorted, cocking a brow at your words.
"My fiancé isn't going into a cell." he declared, shaking his head as he scribbled something down. "They have the report, your statement and evidence. There is nothing that should have even led to you being arrested. You're going home."
You looked at him in utter confusion, hoping he didn't do anything stupid like messing with the papers.
Then he gave you your belongings back, nodding to himself, as you slipped back into your socks and shoes. "I'm going to have a chat with that officer." he told you, biting his cheek. "No one falsely arrests my fiancé and gets away with it."
Eyes widening you looked at him in shock.
"Tim, no!" you stopped him, before he could have get that officer fired. "It's okay - she just did her job."
Staring at you he tilted his head. "Then she did it poorly." he argumented, looking at you like you were out of your mind. "She shouldn't have arrested you, no matter if you're my fiancé or not. I'm gonna talk to her."
Rolling your eyes you tugged at the handcuff still on your wrist. Mumbling something to himself he freed you, helping you stand up.
"Listen, baby, I know that you're angry at her, but please try and be gentle - don't get her fired immediately." you tried to reason, looking up at him, though he didn't meet your eyes.
"Timothy Brad-" He cut you off, eyes widening as he finally looked at you. "Okay, okay!"
Chuckling, you shook your head. He hated it when you called him by his full name.
"I'll try." he assured you, before putting his hand on your lower back, directing you back to the lobby. "And next time someone wants to arrest you, call me."
Cocking a brow you looked up at him, when you halted in the lobby. "There'll be no next time." Huffing he shook his head, a smile on his lips, before he kissed you.
"Never say never, baby."
405 notes · View notes