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#i particularly appreciate the one in the very middle
soarrenbluejay · 1 month
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Supervillains for a community. (Well, except those jerks over in Gotham, insular lot, but they’re they’re one problem) Of course they do- supervillains are a group defined by strong opinions and a willingness to see them through, often with a healthy dash of societal failures and trauma as a catalyst.
The fentons, while not active even on the online message boards, are well known and explosive when they do show up, full of fascinating insights and hours long rants on mad science on hair pin turns courtesy of that ADHD attention span. Bit of the cryptids you feel honored to bump into kind of deal. Besides, like a good quarter of the community as it aged, they’d settled down and had kids (not necessarily in that order) and taken it very seriously! Out in the middle of nowhere, where even the most fearsome government outpost members, the local branch of the IRS, quake before them in fear. Out of the way.
Reveal gone okay-ish, Danny moves to Gotham still to get some air bc now things are Akward and he landed that engineering scholarship which is loads better than any other college would give him with his track record. So- the mysterious Fenton children are finally crawling out of hiding! Everyone is psyched! And roll in to Gotham en masse to witness the fireworks!
Except Danny is Determined To Be Normal. He’s had enough of the throwing himself into harms way shit for a lifetime- he wants to be free to peacefully built Rube Goldberg machines and unintentional increasingly complex bombs to his hearts content. JAZZ, on the other hand- the coveted token Normal One, has finally snapped! She’s watched her baby brother she practically raised throw himself into danger over and over and could do nothing, and now that she’s exposed to this whole network of superheroes outside of small town Amnity, some of those uglier emotions are coming out. And boy is she pissed! And can’t afford to show it much while filing the paperwork to have Arkham legally razed to the ground!
See I love this idea of like, niches in superhero society. A villain the heroes know they can plop their kiddo down with for an exciting afternoon brawl while they take care of a particularly grisly case and come back to a few hours later ranting about some new life lesson and a new move they really want to try. A villain who has a functioning moral compass despite their somewhat batshit long term goal and you can contact to fuck with another villains’s plan so they can laugh at them and you can have an easy afternoon. One who pries up hostile architecture and fills in pot holes, idk man. Get creative here, there’s such potential!
So Jazz becomes a Training villain- someone the heroes know their sidekicks will walk away from in a fight 100% of the time, usually with some new lesson to ponder and only a couple of bruises. Sometimes even snacks!
She also absolutely ambushes mentors to check that they’re worth the kiddo, which they appreciate once they get over being jumped in a dark alley by a 7 foot Amazon trained force of nature. They are not used to being on that side of the jumping, it’s a little unnerving.
(Yes, she low key adopts Shazam upon checking in with him on cursory ‘is the main hero of this city and asshole’ checkin. Yes, the super clones get yoinked out from under Superman’s negligent thumb to go have a blast with Ellie. What about it?)
This however only encourages more assorted weirdos to crawl out of the woodwork. It’s not often one of their own forfeits their potential spot for the running of the coveted Most Normal I Swear prize, but when they do it’s bound to be good! But jazz is off hounding various heroes and punching the faces in of pedophiles and shit whenever there’s no cape within easy reach, and so is a mite bit harder to contact than Danny, who has innocently gotten an apprenticeship under a clockworker for access to their workshop and is gleefully going about doing nerdy shit with great abandon.
Plus this is Gotham. No one gives a shit if someone in the Mad Alchemist uniform and still smoking from their latest experiment pokes their head in a window to bother the local shrimp teen- none of the usual social rules apply, everyone’s crazy here! So everyone drops any and all attempts at masking and just acts their genuine unhinged selves, much to the alarm of the Bats and frustration of Danny.
Bc he cannot get these mfers to go. Away. Even liberal use of the creep stick has little effect when the interloper is calibrated for an opponent with super speed or laser vision or whatever, and he’s trying to maintain his guise as a Normal College Student Do No Investigate.
So he calls in the big guns. He’s not super active in the supervillain kids group chat ever since things in amnity calmed the fuck down post becoming King and then immediately using a loophole that says he will not take the throne until he is grown, as defined by finishing learning his trade a la the medieval standards Pariah set up. So he can just take his sweet ass time with his graduate degree and out of inter dimensional bull shit that much longer! Point is, he hasn’t taken the chance to rant over there in a while, so his Crazy friends are getting a lil worried.
The change to come over and shout at their batshit crazy but (mostly) well meaning parent AND see Danny? Score!
The bats, however, are getting awfully suspicious about this one kid that villains from all over the country are flocking to, especially young and upcoming ones as of recently! And he’s acting his engineering course- all the worst rogues are known to have flown through their PhD studies prior to Cracking. They seem to have a real problem on their hands with this Fenton guy.
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queen-of-the-avengers · 8 months
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Knight in Shining Motorcycle
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~3.1k
Warnings: almost rape, touching without consent, kissing without consent, calling one a bitch and 'easy' for not giving in, heartbroken-ness, fluff at the end, bucky being protective
Summary: Your roommate, Bucky, is one of the worst players you've ever seen. He has a new girl every week and doesn't stay too long to get feelings. When a cute barista asks you on a date, he's not too keen on who it is. You think this is the opportunity you need to get over Bucky but the date doesn't go as planned, and your knight in shining motorcycle comes to your rescue.
Squares Filled: leather jacket (2020) for @star-spangled-bingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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You didn’t get a lot of sleep last night after a particularly rough night. Your roommate had a special friend over making all kinds of noises you’d rather not hear come from his room. It’s not that you were upset that he was getting some and you weren't, it’s that you wish it was you in that room instead of her.
But it’s not like you’re gonna tell him that.
You get out of bed with a yawn and leave your bedroom in search of food. You just bought your favorite cereal that you can’t wait to dig into. You turn the corner and stop when you see a woman you don’t know in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal. Upon closer examination, you see it’s your favorite cereal.
“Oh, I didn’t see you there,” the woman says and smiles at you.
“Is that my cereal?”
“Bucky said I could use this one.”
“Of course,” you roll your eyes.
You turn and storm over to Bucky’s room which is down the hall from yours. You don’t bother knocking so you enter his room expecting to see him lounging around but he’s standing in the middle of the room with only a towel on his waist. Water drips from his toned chest down to the top of the towel, and you find yourself watching the water droplets disappear behind the towel. He clearly sees you checking him out which boosts his ego. He always knew you had a thing for him ever since his sister introduced you two. You look at his face to see him smirking and you give him a deadly glare.
“Are you gonna stay for the show, or…?”
He undoes his towel but doesn’t remove it from his waist so he’s still covered. You jump at the thought of seeing how big his cock is.
“Tell your whores to keep their paws off my shit. She better be gone before I get home.”
You turn and slam his door, missing the way he smirks at your attitude. You quickly get dressed and head out before Bucky can leave his room. You meet up with your best friend who happens to be the sister of Bucky. She waves you over once she sees you but frowns at the sour look on your face.
“Is it Bucky again?”
“He was non-stop fucking this bitch all night, and she was eating my cereal this morning. I didn’t get a good night’s sleep and I didn’t get to eat breakfast.”
“I told you not to be roommates with him.”
When you moved into town to get away from your overbearing family, the only person who would rent to you on such short notice was Bucky. You weren't a stranger, you’re practically part of his family, and he figured he could make some decent money off your part of the rent since he can pay for it fully without your help. Mia warned you not to room with her brother since he’s known to fuck a new girl every week, sometimes twice a week, but you needed a place to stay.
“He’s not all bad all the time, but there are times like this morning when I want to wring his sculpted neck,” you groan.
“Still not over your crush on him?”
Mia is used to all her friends having crushes on her brother. He’s charming, cocky, arrogant, can be super romantic, very protective, and smoking fucking hot. You’re the only one who stuck around long enough to catch Bucky’s attention.
“He’s not worth crushing on.” She looks at you and raises her eyebrows. “Okay, no, and it’s never going to happen. I’m just waiting for this phase to pass however long it may take.”
You two head inside the coffee shop and get in line. Since you couldn’t eat breakfast at home, you’re going to get a sandwich and a coffee with a double espresso. You get to the front of the line and smile at the male barista, Jackson.
“Hi, how are you doing?” he asks.
“Better now that I’m gonna get some energy in me.”
“What can I get for you?” You give him your order. “What’s your name?”
“Y/N.”
“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” You blush at the compliment and look at Mia who smiles. “Is it safe to assume you’re single?”
“I am.”
“Can I take you out tonight? Say, seven?”
You’re quite sure what to say to this. Your mind thinks back to Bucky and how you’ll suffer waiting for him, and Mia shoves you forward as if to say, “This is your way of getting over Bucky”.
“Sure.”
“Cool.” He scribbles his number on the cup and winks at you. “Call me.”
Mia gives him her order and the two of you wait on the other side of the shop for your coffees to come out.
“Girl, I can’t believe that just happened. He’s cute!”
“I know. Is it bad that I'm actually kind of excited?”
“Hell no! What are you gonna wear?”
“That new dress I bought last week.” You grab both your coffees when they’re ready and hand Mia hers. “I’m gonna see if I can get some work done before the date.”
“You work too much.”
“You can’t talk. You don’t work at all.”
You and Mia say your goodbyes and you head back to your apartment. Thankfully, Bucky’s whore is gone so you’ll be able to get some work done. Bucky locked himself in his room but you’re not thinking about him right now. There is a mini workstation across the room from you where you can go to work. Bucky was using it as a video game/music room but gave it to you when he heard you needed it.
You put your headphones on and get to work. You’re an IT support girl for Apple that specializes in fixing computers for people by logging into their network and diagnosing the problem. The next six hours are spent on the computer, talking to people, logging in lots of hours, and watching movies on your other screen.
You have two hours before the date starts so you decide to clock out for the day. You’re not sure what kind of date you’re going to go on so you’ll grab something to eat here. The kitchen is empty when you enter it, and you grab the ingredients for a BLT. Bucky made a bunch of bacon since it was expiring soon, so you’re finding new ways to eat it before it goes bad.
You slather some mayonnaise onto the bread and layer the ingredients on there. When you put the lettuce on, you squirt some mustard on top. The first bite always tastes like Heaven, and you smile as you chew.
Your smile is lost when you feel someone right behind you. Bucky places his left hand on the counter next to you and the other reaches up to grab a glass from the cabinet above you. He presses his body against yours so that you feel the outline of his muscles.
“Excuse me,” he whispers into your ear.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting a glass. I’m thirsty.” He backs up slightly which allows you to turn around but the hand on the counter doesn’t move. “Are you done with work?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Let’s do something. The bowling alley doesn’t close until midnight.”
“I can’t. I have a date.”
Bucky’s entire demeanor changes. He takes three steps back from you and anger is evident on his face.
“What?” With who?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
You grab your sandwich and a paper plate and walk back to your room. Bucky shakes his head and quickly follows after you, not being done with this conversation.
“Yeah, I would.”
“Can you get out? I’m changing,” you say and set your sandwich down on your dresser.
“If I see something I haven’t seen before, I’ll throw a dollar at it and I’m all out of singles.”
“Get out.”
You push him out of the room and close and lock the door. Bucky can’t believe what he’s hearing right now so he takes his phone out to text his sister. If anyone knows who you’re going on a date with, it’s her.
Before getting dressed, you decide to take a shower. Bucky likes to keep his room clean but the bathroom is a different story. He has products everywhere, his short hair litters the sink and his clothes are strewn about haphazardly. You thought you were bad. You ran out of shampoo and conditioner a while ago so you’ve been sneaking some of Bucky’s without him noticing, and this time is no different. He’s not gonna miss a few drops from each bottle since he has so little hair.
After the shower, you walk into your room and grab the dress you bought last week. It’s strapless with the sleeves only covering your arms from the elbows down and it goes down to your knees. You pair this with chunky wedges that make you taller by a few inches, and you pin your hair back in soft curls.
As soon as you slide in the last bobby pin, Bucky comes into your room through the bathroom since your door is still locked.
“I could have been naked.”
“What the fuck are you doing going on a date with Jackson Elliot?”
Mia must have told him who you were going out with.
“He’s a nice man who asked me out. What the big deal?”
“He’s a playboy.”
“Like you aren’t?” you scoff and swipe some lip gloss on your lips.
“Doll, you wish you were going on a date with me.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t ask me. He did.” You unlock your door and head into the living room with Bucky trailing behind you. A motorcycle can be heard from the street below and seconds later, a message pops up on your phone. “He’s here.” You two look out the window and see Jackson on his motorcycle which makes Bucky laugh. “What?”
“There’s no way in hell you’re getting on that.”
“You have a motorcycle.”
“Yeah, I know how to ride one.”
“I have a date to get to. Excuse me. Don’t wait up for me.”
Bucky watches you leave the apartment. You two are on the second floor so it doesn’t take long for you to get down to Jackson. Jackson gives you a winning smile as you climb onto the back of his motorcycle. You look up at Bucky who is watching from the window, and you slide your arms around Jackson’s waist just to piss him off. He glares down at you as Jackson takes off down the street.
He didn’t even give you a helmet to put on.
Jackson takes you to the beach that is quickly losing people as the sun goes down. The water gets colder, the wind gets cooler, and the beach becomes less crowded at this time of night. You didn’t know he was taking you here otherwise you’d have worn something warmer.
“Wow, it’s kind of cold out here,” you shiver.
“You’ll be alright,” Jackson says without offering his jacket to you. He takes you down to the tables where people can sit and have lunch or stop to rest underneath the umbrellas. The employees of the restaurant had tied the umbrellas down so they wouldn't blow away in the night. “So, have you lived here long?”
“For a year, yeah,” you nod.
“Then how come I’ve never seen you at the coffee shop? I think I would have remembered someone like you.”
“Well, my best friend and I actually went to this other coffee shop that’s in the middle of our apartments. We went there for quite a while but they closed, so we--” You’re suddenly cut off by his lips on yours. You’re completely taken aback by this and pull away from him. “What are you doing?”
“Kissing you.”
He leans in and kisses you again but you put your hands on his chest to push him away.
“Wait, a second--”
“Come on, you know you like it.”
Instead of attacking your lips, he forces his mouth on your neck. His right hand grips your thigh and starts moving dangerously close to a place where you don’t want him.
“No, stop,” you gasp and try to push his hand away.
“Come on, baby. There’s no one around for miles.”
“I said stop!”
You push him away and slap him right across the cheek as hard as you can. An angry look passes over his face as if you told him you wanted this and suddenly said no.
“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he scoffs and gets up.
“I thought you wanted to date me, not do this. I wouldn't have come otherwise.”
“The only reason I asked you out was because I heard you were easy. I’m out of here. Find your own way home.”
If there were people around, they would for sure hear your heart break. Jackson leaves you stranded at the beach with no way of getting home. You contemplate calling Bucky but you don’t want to hear an, “I told you so” from him. Plus, he’d probably get off on seeing you so sad. Jackson’s motorcycle roars to life as he drives away, and you miss the second motorcycle that speeds by the beach after him.
Thirty minutes pass by that feels like hours, and you’ve moved from the tables to the sand where you’re sitting and watching the ocean crash upon the shore. No one is on the streets walking by or on the beach but you hear footsteps come closer to you. At this point, you don’t care who it is. The person sits down next to you and you see familiar boots come into view.
“Look at me,” Bucky says gently. You can’t. He slides two fingers under your chin and pulls it toward him so you’re forced to look at him. There are new and dried tears on your cheek that break his heart to see. He uses his other hand to wipe the tears away. “He’s not worth crying over.”
“I thought he liked me,” you sniffle. Bucky removes his hands from you and that’s when you see it. Bucky’s knuckles are raw and busted with dried blood crusting over the wounds. You grab his hand and run your thumb gently over the wounds. “What happened?”
“Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about.”
He lets his hand linger in yours for a few seconds before he pulls away completely.
“I bought this dress last week. I never thought I’d get to wear it,” you sigh sadly.
Bucky opens his mouth to tell you just how gorgeous you look in it when he sees you shiver. Upon closer examination, he sees goosebumps litter your arm. He immediately takes off his leather jacket for you to wear.
“Here, put this on.”
“No, I’m okay--”
“Doll, take the jacket.”
He wraps the jacket around your shoulders. You’re immediately enveloped with warmth and his smell. It makes you smile which doesn't go unnoticed by Bucky.
“Thank you.”
“Come on, let’s go home.”
Bucky gets up and holds his hand out for you to take which you do, and he helps you to his feet. He takes you to his motorcycle and grabs the only helmet for you to wear.
“No, you should wear it.”
“Doll, take the damn helmet.”
You do and shove it on your head. Even this smells like him which is making you dizzy. He gets onto the bike first then you do, but you’re not pressed against him like he knows you should be. You’re sitting up instead of leaning into him, and he fires his baby to life. He jerks the bike forward and you go flying into him from behind. You wrap your arms around his waist to steady yourself and he smirks without looking back at you.
He drives off carefully but you’re holding onto him for dear life. Just as he thinks he can get used to holding onto him, he arrives at your apartment building. No words are exchanged as you two make your way inside the apartment. You stop right outside your door and Bucky leans on the wall next to it.
“Thank you for taking me home.”
“We live together. I was just driving myself home,” he jokes.
“Still. Thank you,” you smile. You grab your doorknob to enter your room when you pause. “Oh, here is your jacket.”
“Keep it. I have another one.”
“Okay,” you blush. “Goodnight.”
“Night, Doll.”
You and Bucky retreat into your own rooms for the night. You get ready for bed and crawl under the covers. You try and get some sleep but you can’t get the feel of Jackson’s hands off your body and the feel of his lips off your lips. No matter what you do, the disgust you feel is blocking you from getting sleep.
The thought of Jackson is replaced with the thought of Bucky and how gently he treated you. There is a softer side to Bucky that no one else sees but you that you’re grateful for. Maybe… no, he probably won’t let you. Maybe? You get out of bed and walk through the bathroom to his door and knock on it lightly.
“Come in,” you hear him say.
You push the door open and see him lying on his bed without a shirt on. It makes sense he doesn’t have one on since he’s going to sleep but the sight makes your cheeks heat up slightly.
“Can I sleep here tonight?”
Bucky doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he scoots over to give you room to sleep. You quickly crawl into bed and lay flat on your back. The both of you don’t say a word to each other for fear of ruining the moment. What would you even say to him? Thank you? Sleep tight? Don’t let the bed bugs bite? Bucky can hear the gears in your head turn so he turns toward you and wraps his arm around your waist. He pulls you into him so your back is pressed against his chest.
It’s scary how well you fit against him.
Bucky can feel you smile against his arm as you allow sleep to come easily to you. He presses his head in your hair and takes a whiff of your scent. He smells his shampoo in your hair and the thought of you using his shit makes him smile.
You make him happy and he hates it took him a year to figure it out.
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lendeah · 4 months
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Thank you very much, Gale. Goodnight.
Pairing: Gale x Fem!Reader/Tav
Summary:
Upon reaching the Last Light Inn, your party is informed about the room arrangements: you will have to share rooms in pairs. Fate has it that you find yourself paired with a particularly charming wizard. To add a twist, there's only one bed. or Gale and Tav relive the "there was only one bed" trope.
Tags: Fluff and smut. They are so cute.
Word count: 3.5k
Warnings: NSFW (minors dni), thighs, frottage, heavy petting, mutual masturbation, touch starved Gale.
Note: This was going to be a prompt but it got out of hand. Anyway, a small gift for the Gale girlies (me, I am the Gale girlies). Also, not proofread and english isn't my first language, so be gentle!🫶🏻
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"You will have to share rooms in pairs" Yaheira had deadpanned. After our long journey, we finally reached the Last Light Inn. We were hoping for a comfortable bed and some privacy, but our hopes were crushed.
Yaheira didn't seem fazed by our reactions, her expression remaining stoic.
"After all the blood, sweat and tears we poured into saving you lot back there this is the beautiful appreciation we get in return?" Astarion exclaimed dramatically, his tone laced with sarcasm.
Yaheira's cold stare silenced him. "Many soldiers are residing here, sacrificing their own comfort for our cause. Four of them have given up their bedchambers for your stay. You should be grateful," she reprimanded sharply.
The creaky wooden floors and musty smell hinted at the age of the building, but it was a small price to pay for a warm bed and shelter from the danger of the shadows outside. The group stood in a huddle, debating their next move. Wyll's voice rang out confidently "I propose we stay at the camp like we have been doing.".
Karlach's response was immediate and determined: "What, and die in the shadows? No, thank you."
You let out a frustrated sigh, feeling about to faint from weariness. "Guys, we're all exhausted. We should just accept the offer and get some rest. We practically sleep on top of each other every other day anyway."
"Yeah, but not on the same bed." Shadowheart chimed, giving Lae'zel a sly side glance. "And how would we determine who sleeps with whom, anyway?"
Gale, the ever-practical one, interjected: "Perhaps we could employ a method of chance, such as drawing straws, in order to make a resolution?"
So that's how Gale and you end up entering the old dusty and messy bedroom from the last Light Inn. The single bed in the middle seems to be laughing at us.
Gale sighs. "I knew sharing rooms wasn't a good idea. I should just crawl under the bed." He scans the room, eyes coming to rest on the window, with the dark sky looming outside. "I could sleep out there too." He pauses. "The prospect of such a cozy rest is indeed quite alluring. The brisk gusts brushing against my face, as I gaze upwards towards the unobstructed expanse of the starry heavens. Delightful, wouldn't you agree?"
He moves to get out of the door, but you grab his arm, your voice pleading, tinged with desperation from the exhaustion. "Please, Gale, I know it's uncomfortable, but can we just please do this tonight and figure out a better plan tomorrow?"
He swallows, glancing down at your fingers wrapped around his arms. "I-I don't think you realize just how difficult it'll be for me. This bed's too small, and it's too close, and—I can't."
I look at him with my eyes narrowed "If you don't get on the bed in the next five minutes, I am going to use my maze on you. And let me tell you, it hurts"
He looks at me dumbfounded ."...You wouldn't?" You give him a pointed stare. Of course, you don't mean to hurt him, but you are too tired to fight or move for that matter.
He swallows, looking you up and down again. Then he nods and turns toward the bed. "Uh, fine. I guess I'll, uh, get on the bed. However, I cannot guarantee that any peculiar occurrences will not transpire. I mean, not that I expect anything weird to happen. Just, you know, putting it out there. Okay, I'll stop talking now."
Your roll your eyes fondly at his rambling. As Gale awkwardly settles onto the edge of the bed, you quickly change into your undergarments and crawl into the other side. The bed creaks under both of your weight, making Gale flinch. The space feels narrow, forcing you close together. There's barely an inch in between, and any movement sends you brushing up against him. You can feel his body heat radiating off him, a little toasty.
"The dimensions of this bed are rather diminutive," he whispers, staring up at the ceiling under the blanket, unable to make eye contact with you.
"Aren't you sharp" you whisper teasingly.
"It's... it's tiny! How do you expect two fully-grown individuals to successfully sleep in this thing?" He says in an exasperated whisper. It is small, though. Feels like I'm being wrapped in a blanket... Except the blanket is another person.
I sigh in exhasperation, "Gale I am trying to sleep for god's sake!"
Gale shifts uncomfortably, trying to make himself as small as possible on the narrow bed. "I apologize, I didn't mean to disturb your slumber. I just...I can't get comfortable in such confined space."
You let out another sigh, feeling a little bad for him. "I'm sorry. This isn't your fault, but is it possible that we exchange our positions? I don't mean to inconvenience you, but I feel like I can't relax like this. I can sleep on the edge of the bed, and you can sleep in the middle."
You look at him, one second away from grabbing your maze for real. "Gale, there is no middle, every part of this damned bed is the edge!"
Gale, is still fidgeting on his side.
"This is ridiculous," you mutter under your breath.
"I know," he responds quietly. "I'm sorry." He bites his lip, looking up at the ceiling again. "It seems as though you are now stuck with me as your blanket," he says, turning his head in your direction. "I hope this arrangement does not cause any discomfort for you... I would not want to impede upon your sleep."
At that, you can’t help but smile fondly back at him "It could be worse," you remark softly. "I could be stuck with Halsin and his incessant snores."
"Halsin snores?" He blinks in genuine surprise. "I never would have guessed. Is it disruptive? Like a storm tearing through the night?"
You roll your eyes. "You wouldn't know, you sleep like a rock all night." Your words are playful, as you nudge him lightly with your elbow.
"I do not! I am an extremely light sleeper, in fact, the slightest noise can jolt me from my slumber. It's quite a remarkable feat, really." His brow furrows. "Wait, does this imply that you have observed me in my sleep?" He blurts out. He is now on his side too, both of us facing each other.
A soft chuckle escapes from your lips, banishing all thoughts of sleep. "Yeah," you remarked with a playful smile, "I must say, you look really cute when you're sleeping."
The moonlight streaming in through the window cast a gentle glow on Gale's face, making your heart swell with affection. His tousled hair and big brown eyes look even softer in this ambience.
His mouth drops open, his eyebrows now shooting up to his hairline. "I do not look cute while I sleep!"
"So cute, with your cheeks all puffed," you say, reaching out to pinch his cheek playfully.
Gale's face flushes a bright red and he turns away, trying to hide his embarrassment.
"I—I'm not cute when I sleep," he whispers." I am powerful! A talented wizard, a master of magic. I do not need to be "cute". And I'm not!" But as he protests, you can't help but notice the way his cheeks flush and how his hair sticks up in all directions, making him look endearingly disheveled. You can't resist the temptation and reach over to tickle his middle. "Cutie!"
"I am not!" he protests, giggling as you tickle him. "Stop it! You're making me... gahahaha!" His laughter bubbles out of him despite his attempts to hold it in.
You laugh too, enjoying the sound of his laughter. "See? Cute."
"I'm not cute!" he gasps out between laughs. "I'm... hahaha... I'm powerful!" He tries to sit up, but you pin him down with your hand on his chest. "You are cute, Gale. And you're adorable when you laugh," you say, looking into his eyes. He looks at you, his cheeks still flushed with laughter and embarrassment. For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other before Gale clears his throat and lays on his side again.
"Gale?" I call out softly, hoping to break the silence.
"Yes...?"His voice is barely audible.
Smirking mischievously, you decide to push his buttons a little more.
"You know, I have trouble falling asleep unless I'm cuddled up next to someone." you whisper
He flinches. It takes a moment for your request to fully register, and he stares at you with a mixture of shock and confusion.
"...Are you serious? You want me to cuddle you?"
You nod eagerly, a hopeful smile playing on your lips. "Usually it would be Shadowheart offering, but she's not here right now."
"You want—me, to wrap my arms around you, to..."
His eyes narrow. "Am I hearing you right? You're asking me, to hold you?"
You roll my eyes "Yes Gale, that is usually how cuddling works."
Gale looks at you, taken aback by your request. His face flushes with embarrassment as he considers your words. "Um...I-I'm not entirely certain if that would be a prudent course of action," he stammers out, looking away from you.
"Forget it," Frustration wells up inside of you and you let out a low grunt before turning away to face the opposite side of the room.
"Er- I mean, wait, that wasn't a rejection... " He scoots closer, careful not to touch you. You turn yourself, so you are looking at him again. He looks down at you with a nervous expression. "So if I were to, hypothetically speaking, encircle my arms around your form, you wouldn't object?"
For some reason, your heart skips a beat at the thought of his arms around you.
"Well," you respond playfully. "I would probably say something along the lines of 'thank you very much Gale, goodnight'."
He hesitates for a moment before finally inching closer, his arm hovering uncertainly in the air. With a deep breath, he takes the plunge and wraps his arm around you, pulling you gently against his chest. You let out a surprised gasp, not expecting him to actually cuddle you, but the warmth and comfort that radiate from him are welcome in the cold room. You nestle into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your ear and inhaling the intoxicating combination of an old book's musty pages and his rich cologne, laced with a subtle hint of sweat. You wrap your arms tighter around his soft body, savoring the feeling of being held in his strong embrace.
"Thank you, Gale" you whisper, intertwining your fingers behind his back. "Goodnight."
As the exhaustion of your journey settles over you, you feel the familiar pull of sleep in your body. However, the moment is disturbed by the feeling of something hard poking your stomach. Your eyes snap open and meet Gale's, who stands there frozen with shock and embarrassment.
"I... I'm sorry," he stammers out, mortified. "I didn't mean for that to happen. It's just been so long and you are so close and..."
Your bodies are still pressend, and you try to make sense of everything. Finally, you laugh softly and pat his arm reassuringly. "It's okay, Gale. There's nothing to be embarrassed about." you say reassuringly, though you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.
"But... but I didn't mean for this to happen," he repeats, still clearly flustered.
"It's natural," you say calmly, trying to put him at ease. "It happens sometimes when people get close like this."
Gale nods slowly, still looking a little uncertain. He shifts slightly so that the bulge isn't pressing against your body as much anymore. "Thank you for understanding," he says quietly. Your heart swells with affection as you watch him; there is something endearing about his vulnerability in this moment. You have an overwhelming urge to pull him close, to shield him from any harm and take care of him.
A twinge of guilt tugs at your conscience as you watch the flush rise in his cheeks, a direct result of your teasing. You chew on your lip for a moment before an idea strikes you. "Do you... want me to lend a hand?" You offer tentatively, gazing up at him with soft eyes and a gentle tone. His big brown orbs widen in surprise at your unexpected offer. You are also taken aback by your own words, but don't take them back.
He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. You can see the struggle in his expression as he tries to process what you just said.
"I mean, it's completely up to you," you quickly add, not wanting to pressure him into anything. "I just thought maybe it would help alleviate some of your... discomfort."
He takes a deep breath and looks away from you, clearly embarrassed. Gale hesitates for a moment before nodding slowly. "Okay," his voice barely above a whisper.
Your heart races at his acceptance. You were not expecting him to actually agree to your offer, but you are weirdly glad he did. "Okay," you repeat softly, moving your hand down to his waist and pulling him closer. You slowly reach down between both your bodies, gently taking hold of his erection through his pants. Gale gasps softly as your fingers brush against him, sending shivers down his spine. You can feel his breath hitch in anticipation as you start to move your hand up and down. As you gaze up at him, his arms still holding your body, a deep stirring awakens within you. The wizard before you, with his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, is more attractive than you had ever realized. His tanned skin is like velvet against your fingertips, and his long hair falls over his face in gentle waves. Each reaction to your caress, every soft moan that escapes his lips, only adds fuel to the fire growing inside of you. Looking so eager for your touch.
Without hesitation, you lean forward and capture his lips in a gentle kiss. To your surprise, he responds enthusiastically, his hands moving to rest on your face as he pulls you closer to him. You deepen the kiss, your heart racing at the feeling of his warm lips against yours and the subtle tickle of his beard on your cheeks. As you continue to kiss, your hands never stops the gentle strokes on his erection. Gale's moans are becoming louder and more urgent. You can feel his need growing as he grinds against your hand, seeking more friction.
"L-let me touch you" he says between ragged breaths.
You smile at him, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the effect you're having.
"I have a better idea," you say softly, moving your hand away from his erection. You take off your panties, and move on your side in front of him again. Gale lets out a small gasp as you straddle him, feeling the heat of his arousal pressed against your bare thighs.
"What are you doing?" he asks, his voice thick with both curiosity and lust.
A mischievous grin plays on your lips. "I'm going to give you something even better than my hand to relieve yourself," you purr, swaying your hips in demonstration in a slow, enticing rhythm, that elicits a delicious friction between his cock and the warm heat of your thighs and cunt.
You take one of his hands and guide it to your breast, letting him feel its softness and moaning quietly at the touch. Gale's eyes widen in surprise, gently squeezing it but with his eyes fixed on yours.
"You're so beautiful," he whispers, reaching up to touch your face with his free hand.
"Thank you, so are you," you reply, leaning down to capture his lips in another tender kiss. He seems to find your praise very arousing, as his breathing quickens and he thrusts his hips upward, seeking more contact with your body. In response, you arch your back and press your chest against him, savoring the feel of his erection against your core and thighs.
"I want you so much," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "I've been dreaming of this moment for so long but I never- I didn’t think-“ he gasps at a particularly good thrust.
You're not sure how to answer, so instead you keep whispering sweet nothings in his ear. "You're an amazing kisser, Gale," you say, "you touch me so good..."
He moans in your mouth, gripping your hips harder as he keeps pounding erratically. Your hands move to his hair, pulling from the strands and eliciting a small whine from his throat. You can feel the hardness of his erection brushing against your wet folds with every movement, and it sends shivers of pleasure down your spine. You let out a moan into his lips as his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing small circles that send sparks of pleasure throughout your body. Feeling his arousal growing even more, you know he won't last much longer, so you move your hips in a faster rhythm, grinding against his cock with more urgency.
Gale lets out a low growl, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he matches your movements. The friction between your bodies is almost unbearable, but in the most delicious way possible. As you continue to move together, your breaths growing heavier and more ragged, you can feel the familiar sensation of your orgasm building within you too. Gale seems to be close as well, as he begins to thrust deeper and harder into your thighs, his breath hot and ragged against your neck. You can hear the slap of skin and the squelching sound of your now wet thighs.
"Oh, gods," he gasps out, feeling himself getting closer and closer to the edge. "I'm gonna..."
His body suddenly tenses up as he comes undone, his hips bucking wildly as he spills himself into the soft skin. For several moments, Gale lies there panting and gasping for breath.
"Oh, gods," he gasps out. "That was...amazing."
You lean and press a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling at him as you do.
"I'm glad it brought you pleasure," you whisper softly, running your fingers through his hair.
Suddenly, his skilled fingers find their way back to your core. He seems to sense that you didn't reach climax with him earlier and now he's determined to make sure you do. His touch is intense as he circles and rubs against your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You let out a moan, arching your back and grinding against his hand. He watches you with intense desire in his eyes as he continues to pleasure you.
"Gods, you're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with lust. "I am not going to be able to forget this."
His words only fuel your desire even more, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge once again. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you ride the waves of pleasure, your hips moving in sync with his fingers.
"I want to make you feel good," Gale says breathlessly, kissing along your neck and collarbone. "Tell me what feels good."
You guide his hand lower, signaling for him to enter you with his fingers. He complies eagerly, sliding two fingers inside of you and curling them just right to hit that perfect spot. You cry out in pleasure, your walls clenching around him. You know you are not going to last long, still sensitive from the previous ministrations.
"Thank the heavens and hells," Gale groans, looking at me like I am a work of art. Setting a steady pace with his fingers, he kisses down your chest and takes one nipple into his mouth. The combination of sensations has you teetering on the edge once again.
"I-I'm close," you manage to say between gasps.
"Come for me," Gale whispers against your skin, increasing the speed and pressure of his movements.
With a final thrust of his fingers and a flick of his tongue against your hardened nipple, you come undone in a powerful climax that leaves you panting and shaking in Gale's arms. He holds onto you tightly as he continues to pleasure you through the aftershocks.
"That was incredible," he murmurs against your skin as he peppers kisses all over your face.
"Yes it was," you reply dreamily, still basking in the afterglow.
Gale pulls out from between your thighs and settles down next to you, his strong arms enveloping you in a warm embrace. As you press your body closer to his, you feel a subtle shift, an unspoken understanding passing between the two of you. Instead of voicing it out loud, you turn to him and whisper,
"Thank you very much, Gale. Goodnight"
534 notes · View notes
queenimmadolla · 11 months
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𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬
(Tattoo Artist!Eddie Munson x Apprentice!Reader)
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Summary: . . . After deciding you were meant for more than what life had in store for you, you gave into the siren call of the city─well a city. But when city life finally eats away at your bank account and your main source of income isn't reliable, you take on an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop where your boss is the six-foot something, tattoo covered Eddie Munson who quickly and unwisely becomes intrigued by you. Nothing romantic can come from it, lest you risk it being torn apart by your past, his lover and yourself.
Entire Work Warnings: 18+ (smut will take place in later chapters), swearing, financial problems, mentions of loss, escorts/call girls, age gap (Eddie is 36, reader is 25), financial shaming, slut shaming, implied sexual harassment, bimbo!reader (she may not be book smart but she knows the score) angst, self-sabotage.
a/n: based on my initial post and elements of Breakfast at Tiffany's. next chapters will be significantly juicer, this was just something to get us going. this is dedicated to @munsonology, happy birthday and I hope this year was a good one! and a very gratitude filled thank you to my dear friend, @kitmon, for continuing to be an an amazing beta! hope you guys like it so far ♡ (attempting the keep reading feature, fingers crossed)
word count: 5k
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“They don’t bite.” “Hmn?” Came your absent-minded reply, eyes cutting from the harpy, evil in her eyes and blood soaking her talons, to the man flipping through the red binder you’d been carrying around you in the Indianapolis heat. 
  Sweat evaporated off your skin, giving away to goosebumps in the air conditioned shop, a much welcome relief to the borderline unbearable heatwave settling over the city streets, something that can be found in every nook and cranny. You’d been navigating your way throughout the city since before dawn broke, eager to get your fill of it while the streets were quiet and a decent temperature. It had been almost chilly this morning, your thick strapped tank top and daisy dukes—that you normally wouldn’t allow yourself to be caught dead in—leaving most of your skin exposed, with no direct sunlight to warm it. Now that the sun was out, you were on fire out there.
“The artwork.” He glanced at the framed harpy drawing along the wall, the one you’d been staring at, one of many framed depictions of gruesome and mythical looking creatures. “I don’t blame you though, that one isn’t particularly my favorite. Pretty badass, though. Heh.” “Oh,” You shook your head, the oversized shades adorning your face sliding down the bridge of your nose, “No, I’m not afraid of it. I like it. It must have taken forever though.”
  You turned your attention to her again, admiring how realistic her feathers appeared. Painstakingly detailed and whoever was walking around the city with her on their body surely endured a generous amount of pain to get her. 
  And a large hole in their wallet.
  “It took a ton of sessions, for sure. My boy did it a couple years ago.” The man, Argyle, as he’d introduced himself when you’d first walked into the shop, flipped his long black hair over his shoulder before he flipped to the next page of your portfolio. He let out a sound of appreciation as he leaned his weight on his elbow, hand resting over his mouth.
  “This is good! This is really good!”
You lifted your chin to peer at the drawing he was fascinated with. Ah.
It was a drawing of the skeletal Grim Reaper, cloaked in a black robe and scythe clutched in one hand while his boney middle fingers stretched his eye socket holes down in an obvious taunt. A tongue, black and tendril like, lulled out of his mouth.
You thought it was pretty good, too. The idea for it had struck you at a party, you’d been hiding from an annoying suitor and ducked into an office room, doodling to your heart's content once you grew past your boredom.
You grinned, a feeling of giddiness beginning to bubble inside you.
“Listen, the DM’s out right now, running some errands. He should be back soon, can I hold onto this?” Argyle asked, gripping the sides of the binder and raising it as if you didn’t already know he was referring to your portfolio, “I think he’ll be pretty impressed with your stuff.” You fidgeted with your fingers, giddiness giving away to nerves once more. “Really? You think so?” Hope was something you hadn’t felt in a while; you’d been through exactly fourteen tattoo shops throughout the city, most of which you’d been rebuffed from before they so much as flipped open your portfolio, having already decided your particular aesthetic didn’t fit their image. They hadn’t verbalized as much, but you knew. You glanced down at your pink boots, already such a stark contrast to the black beams beneath your feet.
It wouldn’t be a big deal if you hadn’t made a wager with yourself, you could only go home once you’d accomplished your task of getting one of the shop owners to actually look at your work. While Argyle had made it clear he wasn’t the head honcho, he’d be passing it along.
“Yeah, man! This is some pretty legit stuff! I’ve been tatting, myself, for a couple years now, and I’m good–don’t wanna flex or nothing but I’m really good. Only it took a couple of years for me to actually get this good, you know? And I’m not even talking about on skin. You haven’t tattooed anyone before, right?” You thought back to when you had mentioned your art skill to a brief...something, he’d been intoxicated enough on expensive wine and your sangria kisses to encourage you to use the tattoo kit one of your friends had re-gifted you after her interest in the subject waned. You’d never particularly imagined yourself etching into people’s skin before, not even when she’d given you the supplies because she’d seen some of your doodles.
Thanks to her, a suit and tie you no longer spoke to, who made more money than you’ll ever see, was walking around with a secret under his briefs: a pair of shiny cherries on his left ass cheek.
  It was no loss to you. Sure, he made money. Just not nearly enough for you to tolerate how aggressive he’d been with his affections as soon as he was sloshed. You’d given him the tattoo with his drunk pals cheering him on, went out to a very high standard club, then promptly ditched him the moment you were out of his sight. You hadn’t answered the door when he came pounding on it the next morning and the morning after that.
  You’d originally had no intentions of using the tattoo equipment, until that encounter. It had planted a seed, an idea that may get you out of what you had to do to survive. Tattooing hadn’t been a passion, and it still wasn’t quite one but you needed money and you had talent.
“No,” You lied with a shake of your head, “I haven’t.”
“That’ll change soon,” he laughed, closing your binder as he leaned further over the glass counter. Your gaze briefly flickered to the jewelry it housed.
  “You got a number we can reach you at?”
  You’d scrawled the number of your landline down on the back of one of their business cards before Argyle could rethink his decision to pass your work along. 
  “Hopefully, we’ll see you soon!” He called out as you retreated towards the door.
  God, I hope so.
  The thought of a somewhat stable job that could help the pitiful state of your checking and savings account was the only thing powering you through your long walk home. You couldn’t risk a cab, that would mean you’d have no fare money for tonight, and who knows if you’d have to make a speedy exit?
  You’d learned. Eventually.
  Forty-five minutes later, you entered your apartment, sagging back against the door as you dropped your bag and kicked your shoes off, unconcerned as to where exactly they’d landed. 
  Sweat glistened over your skin, and unlike in that last tattoo shop, there was no air conditioning to cool you. You and Sid saved that for special occasions.
  Instead, you opened the large window to the fire escape, obnoxious sounds of the city you called home filling the apartment.
  It wasn’t much, but it was better. Next came the matter of your clothes, stuck in the most uncomfortable of ways to your flesh. Your tank top was peeled off and thrown over the couch, daisy dukes abandoned near the entryway of the small kitchen on your way to the bathroom.
  A quick glance was spared behind you, taking in the state of your shared home. It was a mess and not even remotely surprising. The place was barely furnished with the essentials, all of which were secondhand: a couch, a coffee table with a sheet over it to hide the stains, one shelving unit, a rug and tapestries hung artfully on the walls for deception. They made the place look more put together than it was, but you’d love it even if it were still barren. A roof over your head in the city meant you didn’t have to return to the past you’d clawed your way out of..
  The only thing worth much was the framed photo on the kitchen counter, and that was only in sentimental value. You and Sid, arms around each other’s shoulders as you sat in a booth at a shitty diner you’d tried upon first moving to the city. They’d taken your photo for being the 600th customer and tacked it to the wall.
  You’d stolen it and had no regrets because you got to keep your memory and ended up getting food poisoning.
  With a shrug, you entered the bathroom for a much needed scrub down and some disassociating. Your mess could wait.
  ─
  Eddie was not in a great mood when he walked into the shop.
  His jacket was clutched in a sweaty palm, rings twisting around the flesh of his fingers and his bangs were beginning to stick to his forehead, all the result of the walk from his fucking car to the shop door. 
  “Grumpy?” Argyle asked, amused with the clear annoyance on his face.
  Eddie sneered, standing under the vent for a minute to cool down, “Triple digits. Triple fucking digits out there, man. You could shove a thermometer up the devil’s asshole and it’d be cooler than that.”
  Once he’d solidified, he stalked past the front desk, threw his jacket onto the counter and picked up a stack of mail.
  “Did I miss anything?” Eddie asked as he flipped through the envelopes, mostly junk.
  “A couple of walk-ins. Nothing too major there, handled them myself. Simple stuff, one wanted a goldfish. Not like a detailed one, like how you’d try and draw a goldfish cracker. We did have a few who wanted a couple of advance pieces, got ‘em booked for consultations with Johnny boy and Rob.”
  “Nice,” Eddie chuckled under his breath at the mental image of the goldfish tattoo, most likely an act of affection. Tattooing people who wanted to permanently carry reminders of their children was one of Eddie’s favorites to do, partially because of the sentiment but mostly because the drawings were amusing.
  He’d just finished tossing out the junk mail when he reached for his jacket to hang it up properly and discovered it had been concealing something. 
  “What’s this?” Eddie asked as he lifted the slim red binder. Looked relatively new.
  “Huh?” Argyle glanced up from the sketch he was working on, recognition flashing across his face, “Oh, yeah! We got a prospective new hire, someone dropped off their portfolio.”
  Eddie rolled his eyes and heaved out a heavy sigh as his jacket was tossed aside yet again. He had nothing against other tattoo artists, but the last one he’d hired that hadn’t come from his friend group ended up nearly destroying the group. 
  Henry had been charming, good at his job and charismatic. Turns out, he’d also been a master manipulator and had a particularly abhorrent temper. Tensions had been high, heads were butting and fights had occurred—with a permanent reminder in the wall near the front entrance where a large hole had been punched through. Henry had to go.
  Eddie wasn’t looking to repeat the situation.
  “I think we’re good on artists around here–and put a reminder on the calendar for me to patch that damn crater up.”  
  “Well, it’s a good thing the artist isn’t a tattoo artist. Yet. I’d look at that portfolio first before making any decisions, if I were you. I think you’re gonna see the beginnings of something goooooood, and dude, you’ll be killing our fun if you fix it. Do you know how many glory hole jokes we tell?” Eddie ignored the latter half of Argyle’s statement, reluctantly flipping the portfolio open to the first page and annoyance began to associate itself with him once more. 
  A body, in a state of decomposition greeted him. But it wasn’t maggots or rotting flesh involved. Flowers grew out of the crevices, with moss and mushrooms over her skin. A lot of fine line work.
  The next page was home to a bird-like creature with the body of a lion, a Griffin. Done in American Traditional.
  A skinny, demonic looking goat with horns and legs long enough to belong to a horse, clouded eyes and wyvern wings was on the page after that. The Jersey Devil. Someone knew their Cryptids.
  The portfolio contained a vast amount of drawings from horror depictions to more aesthetically pleasing visions; the hydra, skeletons, dragons, goddesses, respectable attempts at the modern Renaissance pieces, and even a couple of Barbie references, ranging in a variety of tattoo styles. 
  Eddie closed the portfolio and drummed his fingertips across the countertop, scowling. 
  That long haired doofus was right. This was beyond good work. But if they weren’t a tattoo artist, there wasn’t much Eddie could do with them. Drawing on paper is a much more different experience than skin. Mistakes can be erased on paper, the sketch done over again. Can’t do the same on flesh. 
  It’s intimidating. 
  They’d have to start off slow, like he had. Trained under a watchful eye, an expert who’d guide them with experienced hands. He was sure Jonathan and Robin would be eager to have an apprentice.
  But before Eddie would even begin to entertain the idea of an apprentice in his shop, he’d have to see exactly what it was he was working with.
  “Leave a number?” He asked without looking at Argyle because he knew he’d see nothing but a smug expression.
  “Yup.”
  “See if you can get him back in the shop tomorrow.”
  “Why not today?”
  “Because I have a session for the rest of the day, remember?”
  “Oh, yeah! I forgot.” Argyle’s grin was sheepish as he read off the calendar. “Stacy Peterson called. Car troubles. Unable to make it to appointment with Eddie. Rescheduled. Heh. So…you also missed that.”
  “I’ll strangle you later, just get him in here then.”
  Argyle opened his mouth, then closed it as an expression that said I know something you don’t crossed his strong features. “Righty-O, boss. I’ll give him a call.”
  You’d been lounging in the bathtub, hair up and out of the way, eyeing the grooves of the shower tile. They were a permanent taunt, stained dark no matter how hard you and Sid scrubbed and you hated the sight of them. 
  People with money didn't have to stare at them, able to afford to have them professionally cleaned or the shower wall—the entire bathroom renovated.
  Someday, that would be you. 
  You sunk further into the water, toeing at the faucet when the shrill sound of the landline filled your more than humble home. The thought of simply letting it ring played in your head until you remembered the tattoo shop you’d visited last. 
  Hastily rising from the tub, water was splashed along the floor while you did a terrible job of drying off and ran naked the rest of the way to the living room, almost slipping as you did.
  The receiver was yanked off its post, “Hello?”
  “What’s up, Dudette? Argyle calling, dunno if you remember me from earlier…”
  “Yeah! From the tattoo shop, right?”
  “Right-O! Listen, The Dungeon Master is in and he wants to see if you can get down here to show him what you got. Possible?”
  “Yeah, it’ll be no problem!” You’d have to run most of the way but street traffic around this time wasn’t that bad so you wouldn’t have to fight your way through bodies.
  “Cool, cool, cool. And between you and me, this is pretty much the interview process. Good luck, dudette, and may the force be with your tattie skills. I’ll see you when you get here!”
  As soon as you’d hung up, you ran to your room to get dressed. You didn’t have much of a wardrobe, but it wasn’t high on your list of priorities considering you and Sid practically shared one. Another tank top was selected—to mitigate sweating on your way to your interview—along with a gifted pink thong and matching bra. You’d snagged your Daisy Dukes from the floor on your way out, shimmied them on, grabbed your small bag and keys and headed out.
  The selection of attire was a good one, the heat was still stupidly unbearable and heavy. You’d need to wash off again tonight. You’d managed to make it to the shop in under twenty-five minutes, having ignored all the looks you’d received as you hurried along the streets and the feeling of the air conditioner on your skin was a welcome one when you made your way back into the shop.
  Argyle greeted you with a bright grin from his place behind the counter, throwing up his hands, “You made it! One sec.”
  Then he turned his upper body to call into an area you couldn’t quite see into, “Oh, Eddie boy! Your prospect has arrived.”
  You hadn’t cared to entertain ideas on what your potential boss could look like, all you were concerned about was the position and getting your foot in the door. Even if you had tried to imagine him, nothing could have prepared you for the actual sight of him when he emerged.
  He was big, tall and cloaked in black, despite the heat of the city. He wore what you figured had once been a black t-shirt but was now lacking sleeves and a proper neck hem to be considered a makeshift tank. His pants were shiny leather and also tight, hugging the muscles of his thighs, and he sported a dark pair of pointed boots.
  He wasn’t particularly muscular enough to be the body builder type, but it looked like he could probably pick another grown man up with ease. His skin had a light tan to it, barely anything really, just like everyone else, he obviously couldn’t escape the sun. It was littered with intricate tattoos, weaving up his arms—a few you could tell disappeared under his shirt—and his neck.
  The word freak was permanently etched in black ink along his temple and over his eyebrow. Two silver balls decorated his other eyebrow.
  Leaning up against the back wall like that, arms crossed to make the muscles of his arms bulge slightly and oozing confidence, he looked like the personification of some really good sex.
  But he wasn’t what you were seeking out and you didn’t like to mix business with pleasure.
  Eddie was caught completely off guard, trying to school his shock and keep his composure.
  When he’d seen that portfolio, he was expecting someone with jagged edges, piercings galore and more than just a couple of tattoos to be behind it and standing in the entryway of his shop.
  Someone who looked like their art.
  You…didn’t. With your little pink cowboy boots, tank top that accentuated your figure and shorts so small, they should’ve been considered a form of underwear, you didn’t look at all similar to what Eddie was expecting. Not even if he closed his eyes.
  You didn’t waste time, quickly introducing yourself as you stepped up to the front desk and Eddie pulled himself from his stupor, closing the distance to shake your palm. Smaller than his (though most were) and slightly sweaty, no doubt due to that god forsaken heat outside.
  Eddie could see bits of your hair sticking to your skin, little beads of sweat prickling over your exposed collarbone and trailing down, down between your─
  “Thank you for taking the time to even look at my portfolio! I really appreciate it.”
  Eddie blinked hard, clearing his throat before smirking to pretend he hadn’t been drawn in by your chest.
  What the fuck was wrong with him all of a sudden? 
  He’d had plenty of beautiful clients, he’d tattooed nice asses, tits, pubic regions, thighs, all the beautiful areas. Now all of a sudden he was acting like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. 
  Hell, Eddie had been thoroughly busy with a pair, held them in his hands before he came into the shop.
  Professionalism, he reminded himself.
  “Not a problem, what I see—saw was pretty impressive,” Nice save, Eddie, you dick. He cursed himself, “You adapt well to different styles.”
  “Thanks!” You chirped, excitement filling you at the praise. It was so nice to hear positive feedback about your work instead of being sent out of a shop before they so much as opened your binder. “I like to experiment with different styles, see what it is that people like so much about them and honestly, it’s mostly because I haven’t quite found my art style just yet.”
  Hence your range, you were constantly expanding with your art because you hadn’t found one style you wanted to make yours yet. Or maybe you had and just didn’t know it yet. Whatever.
  Eddie and Argyle exchanged a look before he stepped back and nodded in the direction he came, “Why don’t you follow me? Show me what you can do?”
  You didn’t hesitate, stepping past the front desk.
  There was more artwork lining the short hall he took you down until you arrived at another room, obviously one meant for actual tattooing as there was a tattoo chair in the middle of the room. 
  On one of the counters, was an area already prepped for you. A tattoo gun, some ink, and some obviously fake skin that rested on top of a disposable sheet cloth, along with some gloves.
  “Argyle tells me you haven’t worked on skin before.”
  Sure you haven’t.
  “Not a whole lot of people lining up to get tattooed by someone with no experience,” you shrugged, following him over to the counter he was leaning up against.
  “You’re hanging around the wrong crowd then.” He joked and you let out a small laugh.
  He had no idea how right he was.
  “The first tattoos I ever got were from inexperienced people. This one,” he gestured to a Wyvern on the back of his arm, “I got my junior year of high school from a waitress at a bar I always snuck into.”
  “And this one,” he yanked the tattered collar of his shirt down to expose more ink, but the one he was referring to was a spider, “I got my first senior year from someone I did…business with.”
  First senior year? Eddie was proving to be an interesting character.
  “But enough about me,” Eddie released his shirt, allowing it to hide the artwork depicted on his chest, “let’s get down to business.”
  Before he could even explain what everything was, you dropped your purse onto the counter nearby, pulling a small box of unopened gloves from it.
  “You mind?” You asked, fingers poised to rip it open.
  “Go for it,” He shrugged. Gloves were gloves, so long as they were uncontaminated he didn’t mind.
  You tore into them and Eddie was still somehow surprised to see they were pink. Clearly his black ones weren’t your style.
  “Can I ask you a question?” You asked as you pulled the gloves on. Eddie watched you, intrigued as you finished assembling the tattoo gun without his help and opened the ink pack. 
  “Sure,” He mused, eyeing you skeptically. Hadn’t tattooed anyone but you were clearly familiar with it. Interesting.
  “Did your tattoos hurt?”
  Eddie waited until after you’d started the tattoo gun and got into working on the fake flesh. Apparently you already had an idea in mind.
  “A bit of an amateur question, you don’t have one?”
  “Nope.” You confirmed, paying him no mind as you leaned forward, gaze focused solely on your task, “I kind of want one but I’m not in any particular rush, you know?”
  Eddie made a sound of agreement, at a brief loss of words as you arched your back, ass sticking out and he became painfully aware you were wearing a hot pink thong, the tails of it peaking out past the top of your denim shorts. He should’ve offered you a seat but you didn’t seem all that bothered with standing.
  No, that was apparently his foil, because he was incredibly bothered by you standing, especially with your ass out like that; when it made his pants tighten considerably in his crotch region.
  He was getting hard. 
  Eddie was mortified, stiffening (go figure) as he attempted to calm himself, eyes darting away from your ass to stare at one of the cabinets. Of course this had to happen to him on the day he chose to wear a pair of pants that left little to the imagination should the boy downstairs start acting up.
  Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.
  “Hurts, depending on the area, which I’m sure you already know. The tattoos on my back and my thighs hurt pretty bad. Forearms were a bitch, but nothing I couldn’t handle. The ones on my wrists and hands were the worst, pain wise, in my opinion. Obviously it didn't stop me, but those tend to be areas with a lot of bones, veins and very little muscle, so it’s expected.”
  You hummed in response and his gaze briefly flittered over to you before his cock pulsed and he tore it away again, grateful your attention wasn’t on him.
  The remainder of the ‘session’ was spent in relative silence with the music playing through the speakers installed throughout the shop, keeping it from being awkward. Eddie had just managed to will his erection away when you finished, setting down the gun before you pulled your gloves off.
  “What do you think?” You asked, still admiring your work and Eddie peered around you to assess it.
  A wyvern, similar to the one on his arm but done in a fine line style.
  He chuckled, amused with your reference and you fought valiantly with yourself not to grin. You were trying to impress him, sticking with a subject he liked enough to make it a part of him permanently, but you hadn’t imitated the style of it to keep from downright copying and to showcase your ability to adapt.
  “That’s pretty good,” And it was, not a whole lot of people could get lines that perfect or seem as confident in their abilities on their first try. Still, Eddie could tell you’d have some ways to go before you were ready to be on your own, “but you can do better.”
  You tried not to frown, “Oh.”
  Eddie smirked and you finally turned to face him, apprehension on your face.
  “Don’t look so down. After some time around here, watching us work, you’ll be ready. The apprenticeship will fly by in no time.”
  “Wait—you mean—you want me?!”
  “I’d be stupid not to.”
  You let out a squeal and threw yourself at him, giving him a quick squeeze before your brain caught up to your body and you pulled away.
  “Sorry, sorry! I’m just so excited.”
  Eddie cleared his throat, shifting his body away from you and rasped out, “Argyle will have the paperwork for you to fill out.”
  “Got it,” You grabbed your bag and was just about to head out of the room when Eddie called your name, “Huh?”
  “Be back at the same time tomorrow. You’ll be practicing on real skin.” 
  “But I thought you said—” 
  “Me.”
  Something in you bubbled with excitement and nerves.
  You nodded once and then left the room to see Argyle for your paperwork.
  “So?????” Argyle asked once you’d approached him, a sullen look on your face. 
  You couldn’t keep the act up, beaming as you practically bounced, “I’ll be seeing you around more often now!” 
  He whooped, extending an arm out for a high-five which you reciprocated.
  “You are gonna love it here, Dudette. Just wait until you meet everyone! First, we gotta start on your employment.” 
  Your brows furrowed as you watched him go through a filing cabinet.
  “Wait—this is paid?”
  “Yeah! We’re not big on slave labor here.”
  Score for you! You had a feeling you wouldn’t be clocking a ton of hours but every single penny counted, especially considering how hard of a time you had actually building a savings account.
  Argyle had walked you through the paperwork, where to sign, what things meant and since the shop was getting ready to close up you’d simply just bring the completed paperwork back with you tomorrow.
  The door chimed behind you and you turned to see who could be coming in at the last minute, eyes widening at the voluptuous woman before you. Her hair was long and jet black, skin pale (apparently one person in this city was capable of defying the sun) and make-up done so elegantly it reminded you of actresses from the silver screen era. Her dress was simple, black and hugged her curves exceptionally well. You could tell it was worth more than everything in your apartment combined and you’d feel bad about it if you also couldn’t tell she was older than you. 
  You’d have time to get there.
  “Hey, Deidre.”
  “Hello, Argyle.” She gave the both of you a dazzling smile as she removed her sunglasses and walked right past Argyle, down the hall you’d come from.
  He didn’t even look surprised and paid her no real attention.
  “We’ll see you soon?”
  “Damn straight.”
  Argyle let out another cheer as you walked out the door with high spirits. Not even the nasty, hot air could get you down.
  You’d climbed up the stone steps until you reached the sidewalk and glanced behind you at the neon sign depicting the name of the tattoo shop you’d now be working at.
  “Welcome to The Dungeon,” You mumbled to yourself with a smile. 
  You turned back to the sidewalk, staring down at the pathway you’d have to take before you thought better of it, sticking your fingers into your mouth to give a sharp whistle.
  It caught the attention of a cab driver down the street, and you gave him your address when he’d pulled up and you’d hopped in, ready to prepare for tonight's plans. You deserved a little break, after all, you were one step closer to securing the future of your dreams.
  Eddie sagged against the counter once you’d left the room, scowling down at the bulge that had reappeared in his pants when you’d hugged him.
  Why his body was suddenly acting like he was a horny teenager again, he had no idea.
  He wasn’t about to do anything about it, though. Not when you’d be hanging around the shop for the foreseeable future. Eddie didn’t get involved with his employees. He’d worked in a couple of shops where he’d witnessed that occur and it always ended in a mess. Not a good kind.
  He busied himself with cleaning up, tossing away the supplies you’d used and storing your first piece of work. It’d be nice for you to look back at once your apprenticeship was over. When Eddie had nothing else to clean, he sighed and rubbed at his eyelids. 
  Platonic. Professional. God, if he couldn’t keep his dick in check, he’d be in a world of trouble. You’d be trouble.
  “Need a hand?”
  Eddie snapped around, relieved to see it was just Deidre. Explaining why he had a boner to anyone else wasn’t something he was keen on doing. In fact, he probably wouldn’t be telling her exactly why, either.
  Taking her up on her offer, however, was something he would eagerly do.
  “Are you offering yours?”
  She laughed, setting her purse down on the counter where your bag had been just a few minutes ago, and walked right up to Eddie, her body pressed against his and grinding onto him as the older woman slid her arms around his shoulders.
  “Mmm, not just my hand.”
  All Eddie knew next was the taste of her red lipstick. 
2K notes · View notes
applepeye · 5 months
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「 ★ 」 THEM TITTIES
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I for the love of God cannot explain my obsession with male pectoral muscles and this will be your problem now too
—cw: mass, boobs, nipple and piercings and how well they are with a bit of pulling, titties.
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GOJO SATORU
gojo's tits are big , like you can place your hands on them and you still wouldn't fully cover them . Their also a bit heavy thanks to some muscle training on his side. His nipples are cute and perky , they also have a nice light pink color that darkens a bit . He doesn't have piercings bc he's still a teacher but if he did they'd probably be those big ones that look like hoops. He loves when you pull and suck and them , he also likes when they rub on cold surfaces when you fuck him from behind.
Bonus : after a particularly rough night with his chest he'll wear band aids on them to prevent rubbing against his uniform.
GETO SUGURU
geto's are a bit bigger then gojo's, they look almost the same in size but geto's are bigger . His nipples are a bit farther away from each other not much but still noticeable. His nipples are also a darker color and a bit more... how do I explain? Their like inverted, but not really just a bit puffy to the point it almost hides the bud . He has piercings but those really small one's . And like gojo also wears band aids from time to time . He doesn't really like when you pull but loves when you suck on them , particularly when you use your tongue to play with the piercing.
Bonus : kinda wishes he could lactate.
TOJI FUSHIGURO
he was inverted nipples arruge with the wall ,likeee and their so puffy too cuz unlike geto they fully cover the bud . His nipples are also dark but are a a bit lighter in the middle . He could wear a double- D bro tbh , and isn't really shy in flexing his tits. He would put a piercing but he thinks the hassle of removing them for missions is to much, sometimes has you massage them for fun . He likes when you pull , use them for a boob-job or just play with them He couldn't care less .
Bonus : he can lactate, a lot , has you suck the milk out when it begins to hinder him.
SUKUNA ( true form )
Their huge , bigger then toji I would dare to say . He loves when you look at them when he talks to you . His nipples are a dark pink color but still light enough to stand out against his tan skin . His nipples aren't inverted (boo) they're actually very perky and very sensitive ( probably why he wears his kimonos so lose ) his piercings would also be those hoop one's but they'd be a bit heavier than the normal. I don't think he'd appreciate you pulling on them and you sucking on them is really an once in a blue moon event.
Bonus : when he does let you suck on them he'll almost always have you bite on them.
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The Joke's On
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Hi guys!
This is a request but I can't find it and that's break my heart because the idea was sooo fun to write 😔 Dear anon where are you, please come back?
Well I'm not really happy with the end, but please enjoy this one 🙃
TW : People scaring people, a lot of angst, (fake) blood.
______________________________________________________________
Alessia is a spontaneous and adorable girl and this is probably what you prefer about her. Not to mention her beautiful smile, her incredible blue eyes and her little angel face. You fall in love with her the very first time your eyes lay on her. You were first friends, before you try to make a move by asking her on a date. The rest is history and you are both very happy.
You realized pretty soon after you met her that scaring her was something really easy and you have to admit that you abuse it a little. Whether during your trainings or in your apartment, every opportunity is good to make her jump or scream. And if you can film it to keep those memories, it’s even better.
Even if it must bore her in the long run, Alessia doesn't seem to hold it against you, laughing once the fear has passed. At least it was what you imagined.
********
With the Arsenal team, after celebrating New Year, you flew to Portugal for a training camp. You enjoy this kind of moment generally, because it allows the team to get together and enjoy themselves after a little separate time. It’s more appreciated for you as you fly away with your girlfriend, both playing for Arsenal.
After having celebrated Christmas separately, Alessia joined you in your native Ireland to celebrate New Year together. You then flew back to London, where you flew with the rest of the team to Portugal. Climate change is significant, even if it rains almost as much as in London. This isn't where you will perfect your tan, unlike Katie and Caitlin who were coming back from Australia tanned like never before.
Speaking of Katie, it's with your compatriot that you return to the hotel after your little night walk. Alessia refused to accompany you, like all the others finally. This didn't surprise you, today’s training was particularly physical and tiring. But if you don’t have your little night walk, you can’t fall asleep.
"Where’s Lessi?" you ask, frowning, once you joined the team in the common room.
Most of them sit in front of the television, but there’s no trace of your girlfriend.
"She said she wanted to wash her hair, I think" Lia says, smiling nicely.
You smile while rolling your eyes. Alessia has a very special hair care routine and you like to tease her about it. This doesn't prevent you from regularly offering to brush her hair or dry it, loving to take care of her and the smile she offers you when you do it.
"I’ll go see her" you decide, going to the elevators.
"Don’t do things I wouldn’t do" Katie teases you maliciously.
Blushing in spite of yourself, you show her your middle finger before leaving the room and joining the room that Alessia shares with Lotte. The staff having the habit of not putting couples together, you find yourself with Caitlin. Which is not disturbing since you like the young woman, but you’d rather sleep with your girlfriend.
Out of pure politeness, you knock on the door before sliding the magnetic card she gave you earlier. You are however surprised to see that the room is plunged into darkness, just like the bathroom. Either Alessia did it faster than usual, or she changed her mind.
Leah not being in front of the television either, you go to the room that she shares with Katie.
"Is Alessia with you?" you ask your captain once she opened the door.
"No, just Beth and Viv. Why?"
"She’s not downstairs and she’s not in her room" you answer with a frown.
"Did you try calling her?" asks Beth from the bed where she’s sitting on.
You shake your head and take your phone out of your pocket to try to call her, Leah pulling you inside the room so you don’t get stuck in the hallway.
"Are you sure she’s not downstairs?" asks Leah
"Yeah. Lia told me she went up to her room" you mumbled
When you land on her voicemail after several tones, your eyebrows are so wrinkled that Leah would be jealous. You look at your phone screen as if it was responsible for the silence of your favorite blonde, before writing her a message.
"Oh look at this poor little thing missing, her sweetheart’s hugs" teases you Beth.
You roll your eyes once again, before putting your phone back in your pocket, checking that it's not silent to hear Alessia’s answer.
"Go back check downstairs, maybe she went down when you went up"
You approve Viv’s advice before coming out of the room to go to the ground floor. You take a look in Alessia’s room and in yours by the way, both completely empty. And, when you find yourself again in the TV room without any Alessia on the horizon, you look so defeated that it seems to alert Manu.
"You all right, Mate?"
It draws the attention of others to you and you shrug your shoulders. In truth, her disappearance is beginning to worry you. All the others, except Beth, Viv and Leah are here.
"I can’t find Alessia"
"Isn’t she in our room?" Lotte wonders and you shake your head negatively.
"In Leah’s? Or yours?" Katie asks.
But you shake your head twice at these proposals, nervously passing your hand in your hair.
"It’s starting to worry me" you whisper to Katie.
You know you’re probably gonna get teased by one or two people, but when her eyes cross yours, Katie understands that you’re serious. You see her exchange a look with Caitlin before getting up from the chair on which she had settled.
"I’ll help you look for it, she must not be far"
She puts a hand on your shoulder while training with her outside the room.
"I’m coming with you" Kyra proposes, standing on her legs.
"She's not answering her phone either" you inform them.
At Katie’s request, you try to call her again but in vain. You take a look in the common areas of the hotel, even going to the gym. But after looking almost everywhere, there is no trace of your blonde.
"Let’s go back to the rooms" proposes Kyra by heading to the elevators.
You follow them mechanically, pulling out your phone to try to reach her again.
"What is that?"
You’re not paying attention to Kyra’s question, until Katie approaches what the Australian is pointing at. When Katie gets up with something in her hand, you feel your stomach drops.
"It's Lessi's phone!"
You almost rip the phone out of Katie’s hands, turning on the screen to see that the oldest notifications are two hours old. There are also your missed calls and messages. When you look up at your two teammates, your face is livid.
"I’ll call the police" you decide without hesitation.
"There must be a logical explanation, Y/N, don’t panic" Kyra kindly tells you.
"Alessia has been missing for two hours, no one knows where she is and her phone is found on the floor in the hotel hallway! What more do you need, Kyra seriously?"
"Stay calm, don’t yell at her" Katie steps in and puts a hand on your shoulder.
But you just glare at her. That’s when Leah’s room opens, revealing your captain’s face.
"Why are you making all this noise?" asks the blonde.
"Less is missing, she’s nowhere to be found and her phone was on the floor in the hallway" you almost yell at Leah, hoping for a little more support.
You’re almost reassured to see Leah’s blemish face. She also knows Alessia well and they’re friends.
"Maybe she went for a walk too?" asks Beth.
"Less?" snorts Leah
"Nah, if she didn’t want to follow her missus, she wouldn’t have left by herself" Katie add.
"Keep talking, I’ll get my jacket and then I’ll tell Jonas I’m going to the cops"
You lose patience quickly, nerves more tense than ever. You died of worry, it's not in Alessia’s habits to disappear like this without even taking care to warn anyone. You can already imagine the worst-case scenarios, the main one being a kidnapping of your girlfriend by a psychopath.
"I’m coming with you"
In two seconds, Leah puts on her jacket and follows you to Alessia’s room.
"I left it here" you mumble to Leah, opening the door for the third time this evening.
But this time, as you take your jacket off a chair in the room something catches your eye. Something you haven’t seen before.
"Leah" you call in a fear voice
"What?"
The blonde was waiting for you at the open door and slide her head through the yawn. Your finger shakes when you point the red puddle on the ground.
"You said you checked the room!" exclaims Leah with wide eyes
"I did! I hadn’t seen it before!"
You feel panic so much that you wonder if you’re not going to throw up. You don't know what you will find when you open the bathroom door, in truth you don't really ask yourself, which is probably better that way.
The bathroom light turns on suddenly when the door is open. And, instead of facing a horror scene, you find yourself facing a laughing Alessia who jumps on you.
"Gotcha!"
You are too shocked to react, not realizing that almost all of your teammates are now in the corridor to witness Alessia’s victory. Leah highfive with Alessia above your head when you finally realize what just happened.
"Did you know about this?" you ask Katie, still half stunned by the outcome of the evening.
"Of course we did, we even helped her set it up" laughs Katie, triggering more laughter around you.
"Traitor" you moan, holding back a smile.
Katie laughs again and your eyes fall on Alessia’s delighted face when your best friend takes the others out of the room to "let you back on earth".
"Are you okay?" asks Alessia, looking uncertain, seeing you always looking stunned.
"I hate you" you mumble and smile in spite of yourself.
Alessia laughs and fondly hugs you to kiss your head.
"Oh baby, I’m sorry. But maybe now you’ll think twice before you hide a plastic spider in my sneakers. Or stick a photo of gollum on my rearview mirror. Or…"
"Okay, Okay Babe. I get it"
You’ve probably never been so calm in a long time as at the end of the evening, to the delight of your teammates and your girlfriend. The blonde probably ends up feeling a little guilty, since she begs Leah to accept that you and Lotte swap rooms for the night so you can sleep together. Faced with Alessia’s level of supplication, Leah finally gave in.
So it’s with pleasure that you snuggled up against Alessia after your shower and put on your pajamas. The pretty blonde doesn't wait before passing an arm around your waist to hold you against her.
"Aren’t you mad at me?" asks Alessia after a few seconds of silence.
You’re amused by the question, but don’t be surprised either. The kindness and benevolence of the blonde are known to everyone. It even surprises you that she managed to put all this together without changing her mind and thinking that it might cause you too much panic.
"Nah. I’m actually quite impressed with what you managed to organize" you admit.
Your finger drawing shapes on her belly, you feel it contracting when she laughs softly. Again, you can’t help but smile. Her laughter is the sweetest of melodies to your ears.
"I asked Katie and Leah to help me. And then we got everyone involved. There’s just Kyra who didn’t know, we were too afraid that she would give you information unintentionally."
You hum for any answer, continuing to slide your finger on her skin. Tonight’s emotions tired you to be completely honest.
"I really thought something had happened to you" you admit quietly after another moment of silence.
You know perfectly well that Less could tease you a little more, but you also know that she’s not going to do it before you open your mouth.
"I’m fine. And I’m right here with you"
She tightens you against her and you find yourself lying almost entirely on her, which you will not complain about at all.
"On the other hand if now I do not let you take a step without having stuck me to you, you should not complain"
"It fits me perfectly. Now please kiss me."
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ayaboba · 5 months
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DAY 1: FIRST FALL OF SNOW ❅⋆⍋
summary: activities you do in the snow
characters: albedo, childe, diluc, wriothesley.
notes: wc: 260-300 per character, roughly 1.1k total, gn! reader, fluff, mentions of reader being lost in the snow in childe’s, petnames, the madness begins.
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ dreamy december event masterlist
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albedo - how to build a snowman
All year round, Dragonspine is inundated with thick layers of gleaming snow.
Twinkling in weak sunlight, an ethereal sight both close-up and afar.
However, there was always something particularly striking about waking up to a fresh new coat of snow. Impeccably perfect, its raw beauty enthrals you each time. It was a privilege, you knew. Not just anyone could climb such an intimidating mountain, and the only reason you got to experience such phenomenons, the one who introduced you to this very mountain—was someone you’d never imagined to meet. Much less be more than acquaintances, a renowned genius, who currently stood completely blank in the suggestion of building snowmen.
"So, ah… I just add another pile on top?”
For the hundredth time this morning, you shake your head with an expression of amusement. “No,” you mutter, rolling the pile next to him into the shape of a sphere before placing it before him. “You need to make it into a ball shape, then place it on top. That will be its middle.” You point accordingly, an encouraging smile plastered on your face.
Albedo still doesn’t get it.
Instead, he watches silently as you enjoy yourself constructing a snowman. How interesting, creating little figures out of snow. He watches from afar as you unravel your own woollen scarf and wrap it around its uneven neck. He watches as you judge a variety of sticks to pick the most suitable to be its arms.
Albedo watches as you stand proudly beside it, a dazzling smile etching your face as he too, unravels his woollen scarf and gives it to you.
childe - snowball fights
You catch your breath behind a large cedar tree.
Was it a surprise? Surely not. Challenging Childe in any form of fight was the equivalence of battling in an arena, playful or not.
It also didn’t help that you were winning. For now, at least.
A strong gust of frosty wind brings a blizzard of newly formed snowflakes, collecting delicately on your hair and clothing. The fierce howls mask up any forms of sound, and the gradually falling snow covers up any traces of footprints.
Moreover, the temperature was severely dropping by the minute.
Perfect weather, you curse internally.
Your hands swiftly grab handfuls of the snow all around you, leaving a deep indentation in the shape of a ring all around you. Painfully obvious evidence that you were here, but at this point in time, you were more than ready to surrender. Between the choice of victory or frostbite, you’d willingly lose.
Cradling a dozen snowballs, your eyes are alert and searching as you attempt to outline any signs of a human. It’s hopeless; the wind is intensifying, swirling the frost like a snowglobe.
An anguished sigh escapes as you look down at the heavy layers of snow. Perhaps it was time to resort to something more desper-
Smack.
Something cold lands on the side of your face before falling to bits next to your feet. Another flies right past you.
You’re supposed to be mad; you’re supposed to shout and blame him for putting you in such a perilous and stupid situation, but you don’t.
As he catches you in an embrace, a contrast to everything you felt mere seconds ago, so frantic and tight, you realise how scared he was—scared enough to be rendered completely and irrevocably silent.
diluc - snow? my eyes are on you.
How long has it been?
How long have you been gazing, lost in your thoughts, through the window of your shared bedroom?
It’s quiet, but a comforting sort of quiet. The sort of quiet that you could appreciate for years and years and enjoy as if it were freshly discovered. Perhaps it was because of Diluc and the reserved and reclusive ambience he always carried. Whatever it was, you understood why he sought it so much.
Kaeya told you to expect snow tonight.
You love snow.
As soon as Diluc stepped one foot into the entrance of Dawn Winery, you had notified him most excitedly, “It’s going to snow tonight!”
You made sure not to mention that it was Kaeya who told you, though.
Being the gentleman he was, Diluc reciprocated your happiness most thoughtfully. Across the candlit dinner table, you swapped memories and dreams, all down until the last few tired murmurs sealed with a tender goodnight kiss planted on your forehead. A fond, “Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” as he drifted off to sleep.
Time steamed on; it must’ve been hours, according to the grandfather clock in the farthest corner of the bedroom, yet never once did your eyes stray from the window. You had long abandoned your previous sleeping position and now cozily huddled your legs, although still buried comfortably within the blankets.
Diluc seemed to be sleeping peacefully.
For a while, you observed in slight awe, the little rises in his chest as he inhaled, the serene expression decorating his face. It felt so intimate, so softly vulnerable—simply two people treasuring a moment in their lives so unknowingly—is what made it magnificent.
The first glimmers of snow lightly shimmered through the night sky as a familiarly snug hand pulled you beneath the covers.
wriothesley - ice skating
The many fountains in Fontaine had been frozen from the frigid weather, transforming the statues to behold graceful arches that glinted divinely in the feeble sunlight. Bound to be presented gloriously on the front page of the Steambird for the next three months or so.
Additionally, smaller bodies of water had completely transformed into ice, making it a perfect opportunity for extravagant winter activities. After all, Fontaine was never short of its flamboyance and charming flair when it came to anything of that sort.
That was the reason Wriothesley had spontaneously suggested going for a skate on the ice.
You had promptly declined at first, leaning over his desk, brushing the idea off with a brisk excuse of, “I can’t skate.”
Wriothesley had looked up from his stacks of documents, followed by a falsely exasperated roll of eyes, saying, “That’s what you said about dancing.”
"I'm not a very good dancer, you know that.”
“But I successfully taught you, didn’t I?" he confidently answered, standing from the overflowing desk.
You made a non-committal noise, shaking your head as Wriothesley chucked and wrapped an arm around you. “C’mon, let’s give it a try, all right, darling?”
This is precisely how you landed yourself in such a predicament.
The skates were easy enough to get on, but the process of skating, like you anticipated, was no easy skill.
Wriothesley, being the superb lover he is, let’s out a muffled snort as he watches you topple over for what could’ve only been the hundredth time that evening.
“Instead of laughing, you could actually help me like you promised, you know.”
With one last terribly hidden chortle, Wriothesley seizes your hands and gently guides your movements alongside his, careful and patient, as you both skate until the winter sunlight ebbs over the horizon.
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jaylver · 7 months
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YOU BELONG WITH ME — Y.JW
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synopsis: The boy next door was practically everyone’s dream. Straight As and top of his class, basketball captain, popular kid with a heart of gold, who wouldn’t want him? Yang Jungwon happened to be him, your childhood best friend who you’ve been pining for almost forever. But how could you compete when you were the complete opposite of his girlfriend? Except that you’ve been there in his life all along, the one who understood most. All you could think was: you belong with me.
pairings: non-idol!jungwon x afab!reader
genre: childhood best friends to lovers, boy next door + athlete jungwon, romance, very very slight angst, fluff
warning(s): profanities, both are kinda idiots xx
wc: 3445
a/n: yes, this is based on tswift's you belong with me song + mv 💓 (please tell me you're not sick of me and tay atp) tbh this was originally a hee fic (idk why he always inspires a lot of fics for me LMAO) but i wanted to change it up! hope you enjoyed it! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah muah!
masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.
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You were down bad. 
That wasn’t a statement, it was a fact.
Nothing could simply hide the fact that you were down bad and feral for your neighbour. Yes, you heard that right, the neighbour. And no, your neighbour doesn’t happen to be someone who was on the edge of deathbed kind of old, but he was, in fact, the same age as you, which didn’t help the ample amount of delusions that you could actually get him. 
Yang Jungwon. 
He wasn’t just an average boy next door, he was your childhood friend, who you knew since he moved in when you were six. Naturally, his mum and yours became buddies and it was a big factor in pulling you two together. As you grew older, you and him got closer and were practically stuck to the hip. The downside of highschool and Jungwon looking as though he was personally carved by Greek Gods was that he got popular instantly, while you, on the other hand, was regarded as a simpleton. 
To be fair, you get it. Jungwon was a smart guy other than his obvious charming features and particularly those dimples. Gosh. He was a perfect straight As student, a student loved by teachers and his peers. What made him even alluring was his athletic abilities as well. Wasn’t it just cruel to others to be absolutely blessed both academically and athletically? Captain of the basketball team who’ve won many championships and tournaments. Right, you finally understand why you’ve got to fight other girls for him. 
High School was hell. Being splitted into either the popular kids or the nerdy kids, you happen to be stuck in the middle. Jungwon was off with his popular bunch and you were with Sim Ja Yun, or Yoon, your platonic soulmate that you found equally dying in Maths class. Without her, you were never surviving this hell hole. 
You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss hanging out with Jungwon. Now that you were in two different friend groups, you only got to see him after school or during the weekends. But at least there was a fun part to it, considering how his window faced yours and you two ended up creating this new way of communicating where you would write on either a whiteboard or a piece of paper.
There were ‘how are you’s and ‘good’s and some random rants, most of these ended up being something sentimental to look back to, and they were piled up in a small section in your drawer. 
“Did you hear? Jungwon’s dating that popular cheerleader,” Yoon nudged your side, whispering quietly as you two made your way to Chemistry. 
“Wonyoung?” you exclaimed, a shocked look on your face. 
Jang Wonyoung, the cheer captain of the school, an equivalent of Regina George that practically ran the school without saying. She was the total opposite of you: she wore short skirts, you wore t-shirts; she was cheer captain, you were on the bleachers; she wore high heels, you wore sneakers. How cliche could this be? Of course it had to be the cheer captain and the basketball captain that got together.
Yoon nodded. “Out of everyone, it had to be her. She’s literally known to be a serial cheater.”
Jungwon deserved better. That was all you could think during the entirety of Chemistry. Why didn’t he tell me? Was this new? Countless thoughts filled your mind till the point you swore you were seeing stars. At the end of the day, you concluded it was none of your business, seemingly reaching ‘acceptance’ in the five stages of grief. Maybe this was an actual sign for you to finally stop harbouring a small teeny liking towards Jungwon. Just maybe.
Sitting by the window and staring out into the dark skies completely distracted you from the fact that Jungwon had entered his bedroom right opposite your window. He was the phone, face twisted and expressions screaming out the signs that things didn’t seem to be well. He was yelling something back before hanging up with a sigh and a frustrated ruffle of his hair. 
It took a few minutes for him to recollect himself before regaining composure completely. You pretended you didn’t see the whole commotion when he sat on his bed, facing towards you and your window, casting you a smile and waving at you, to which you reciprocated. You couldn’t help noticing the disappointment on his face.
You reached over for your notepad, scribbling on it quickly.
‘You okay?’
His face instantly lit up, beaming happily, contrary to the expression from a minute ago. 
It was his turn to write something down on his notepad.
‘Tired of drama.’
You then wrote your reply.
‘Sorry :(’ 
He shrugged, shaking his head slightly. You wished you could do something to help, but simply, there was nothing.
‘I like—’
You found yourself writing those words of confession unknowingly, as if your hands knew what your mind constantly thought of. You didn’t even finish writing it, you couldn’t. By the time you glanced up, Jungwon was gone and a shade of blue covered his window.
Well, there goes another chance.
It might’ve been a typical Tuesday night, but that wasn’t stopping you from staying up and acting insane. You were lying in bed, staring at the ceiling with your headphones plugged in. The late night was calm and peaceful, no schoolwork, no trouble, no crush to mull over about, you were finally alone and at peace. The upbeat songs blasting into your ears had you jumping from your bed and dancing around, feeling as if you were the only one in the world.
But you weren’t the only one. 
Unbeknownst to you, Jungwon was by his window secretly looking at your dancing figure who mimicked a singer, a smile on his face.
If only you knew.
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Sitting alone in your own front yard shouldn’t sound as depressing as it was. 
You thought the best self healing method was getting in touch with nature like what those magazines had claimed, but it was only making you seem pathetic to people that drove past. Plus, how could you achieve peace when the person who destroyed it countless times was walking in your direction towards you.
“Hey, hey,” Jungwon greeted, dressed in his worn-out jeans and a white t-shirt.
“Hi,” you replied, patting the empty spot next to you.
“You’re reading ‘Pride and Prejudice’?” he wondered as he sat down, catching a glimpse of the book in your hand.
“I’m pretending to read, but I’d like to say that I am,”
Jungwon laughed in amusement, shaking his head. “Well, I’ll pretend to be impressed,” his dimpled smile never leaving, which persisted in tormenting you, because how could anyone look like that.
He’s got a smile that could light up this whole town. Hell, he was the sun that shone over your measly sad town. The light of your life and the happy pill of everyone else’s life. 
It was just a shame that you hadn’t seen it in a while ever since his girlfriend has brought him down. Even though he has reassured you that he was fine many times before whenever you asked, you could tell he wasn’t fully truthful, you know him better than that. 
Speaking of his girlfriend, Wonyoung soon pulled up by his house, and he had to eventually say goodbye to you too. Staring at the sight of them being close simply had your stomach turning and twisting, especially when she herself probably knew that you were secretly pining after him. Were you that transparent? Who cares?
As they drove off, you felt your grip on your book loosen, your heart equally dropping. 
Hey, whatcha doing with a girl like that?
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It was one of the most important times in the school calendar. 
No, not exams. The national basketball competition. 
You weren’t a big sports fan, but somehow, this tournament would always rope you in every year, mainly because of the influence around you too. Exhibit A, Jungwon. But other than him, your friends were constant supporters of the school’s basketball team, not to mention, the atmosphere every year would go insane.
The game against the rival school was something you couldn’t and wouldn’t miss. Well, you didn’t have a choice either way. Being in the band team meant you were spending most of your time on the bleachers. Sigh.
On game day, you were there at the basketball court earlier than the scheduled time for final preparations, helping your bandmates around and idling boredly. You didn’t realise someone sneaking up on you until you heard your name being called, startling you and almost had you dropping an instrument. 
“Jungwon?”
“Hey,” he was in his practice gear, basketball trainers in his hand. “Didn’t mean to scare you. How’s the performance for tonight?”
“I’m hoping it’ll go well,” you said honestly, feeling uneasy under his intense stare. “I’m hoping your game goes good too,”
“Thank you,” he smiled, and there it was, his dimples. One look and it had you lightheaded. You couldn’t believe he had this effect on you still. “Will you finally treat me to some of your signature cupcakes again if we win?”
“I’ll consider it,”
“Great,” he beamed, a pleased and confident smirk replacing that sweet smile. “I’ll make sure to win it for you then,”
How could he say that and casually bid you goodbye after? Has he got no regard for your sanity whatsoever? 
His words continuously occupied your head even when your performance ended and the game started, your focus only trained on his running figure. The score was narrow, time was ticking and Jungwon had one target in mind, dashing towards the hoop and shooting the ball into it. That was the winning point and there was no doubt that the home team had won. You and your bandmates got up cheering, yelling and giving each other’s high fives. You were proud.
The cheerleaders by the court were cheering as well and doing their routine. The sight of Wonyoung caught your attention, her gaze was not on her boyfriend, but on another player. What? 
Once the game had ended, the team stayed on court celebrating. You were still on the bleachers, so all you could do was observe the scene unfolding below. Jungwon approached Wonyoung, but what you failed to notice was her standing with the player you saw her eyeing earlier. A fight broke out, a sour expression on Jungwon’s face, betrayal evident. It didn’t take long before he stormed away.
Oh no.
Upon returning home, tired and drained, you saw Jungwon in his room by the window, head hung low staring at his phone. At first, you didn’t know whether to get his attention and ‘talk’ or rather stay silent, but how could you when he seemed like a sad sappy kitten. So, you sent him a text, prompting him to stare up.
‘Hope you’re ok’ you wrote on your notepad.
He gave you a small smile, scribbling something down and holding his notepad up after,
‘I think I am? Whatever :/’
‘I’m here if you need to talk.’
‘Thanks :) you’re the best.’
‘I know’
He laughed at your response, but you continued on.
‘Congrats on your win! Super proud.’
‘Thank you! Does that mean I get my cupcakes now?’
You rolled your eyes, feigning an angry look. 
‘Fine >:(’
‘Sweeet. Talk tomorrow? We both need a rest.’
You nodded, and with a last wave from him, he closed his curtains and you did the same. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk about the clear fight from earlier and you didn’t want to push him either, but the sadness in his eyes told you he wasn’t getting over that easily.
Can’t he see that you were the one who understands him?
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Prom, the day you dreaded. 
You were adamant on not attending initially, but the convincing from Yoon and your other friends had you eventually caving in. Poor you.
It wasn't like there was no one out there who asked you, you were actually just a great friend who agreed to go with them instead. Besides, men scared you, mostly the ones you didn't know. Not Jungwon, he's an exception, or maybe you were biased.
Once you were done getting ready in your bedroom, you opened your window curtains out of reflex and with purpose, gazing out. There was Jungwon, in his sleek black suit and tie, looking like a graceful prince. Abort, abort, abort—
Too late.
Upon seeing him noticing your figure by your window, it was too late to flee or hide. So, you waved at him, taking your notepad along.
'You look great!'
He smiled once he saw your writing, seemingly relieved and less tensed up.
'Thanks! You're beautiful in that dress. I love it on you.'
You're praying he didn't notice the slight tinge of scarlet on your cheeks from a distance away. Well, unless he has great vision. 
Shaking your feelings and thoughts away, you wrote your last message since it was time to leave soon. 
'I need to leave soon :( see you tonight?'
He nodded, writing swiftly before showing it.
'Yes! Will see you soon. Have fun :)'
Having fun isn't exactly the expression you would precisely describe how you felt at that hour. 
Alright, you found it dumb to get slightly jealous over the fact that Jungwon was with his girlfriend tonight, but you couldn't help mulling over it. You just wanted him, but why couldn't he see that?
Or maybe … you didn't know that he does.
Jungwon, on the other hand, was in the men's restroom, washing his face over and over again. He needed to think.
Breaking up with Wonyoung after the whole fiasco at the basketball game had affected him. Although a month and a half seemed like a  short time, it was still a relationship anyway, wasn't it? That's besides the point here.
Jungwon realised he liked you. 
He found it douchey especially when he had just gotten out of a relationship, he didn't want you to think that you're some rebound, but he ended up realising his true feelings. Gosh, couldn't the timing be any better?
His childhood friend, number one supporter since the start, you were the one he was in love with, and it was ridiculous he had to go through a long while just to find out his actual thoughts and feelings. It seemed unfair to you.
Rather impulsively, he hit the 'send' button on his message app, asking for you to meet him outside the hotel. 
Waiting for him to arrive was nerve-wracking for you. Having not seen him almost the entire night and now he had sent an ominous message to top it all off, it simply didn't come off as nonchalant as he intended it to be.
"Hi," you greeted as he made his way towards you. 
"Hey," his eyes scanned your figure, taking in the sight of you in the prettiest dress, one that complimented you to the brim.
"You … wanted to see me?"
"Oh," a gear clicked in Jungwon's mind. Seeing you had completely malfunctioned him and he almost forgot the task at hand. "Right. This is going to sound in–insane but, here me out,"
"Okay?" 
"I like you," 
He likes … you?
Were you tripping or was that genuinely what he'd said? 
"I'm so stupid for not realising sooner. You were always there for me, since we were kids till now. At my basketball practices and competitions, I can spot you in the crowd easily, you're the shining star. Whenever you're playing by the bleachers, I wish I could just run to you. I like you, Y/N, I do,"
Every word was filled with pent up frustration and love, unaware how much he has been pushing back until now. But what concerned him most was your quietness.
"Y/N?"
You blinked, instead it was your turn to malfunction. "I like you too," those words came out pouring naturally, as if you were built for it, fully ready and prepared. "Wait!"
Your exclamation had him jumping up in shock, startling him and catching him off guard.
"I broke it off with her. A–and before you think I'm trying to replace you with her or anything, I'm not. Just wanted to make it clear," he said quickly, almost slurring, clearly panicked. “We can take it slow, don’t need to rush into anything, all it matters is you knowing,”
“I’d like that,” you fiddled with your fingers, nervousness eating you up from within. “I–uh–can I kiss you?”
Where did that come from?
Jungwon flushed a shade of red, coughing from shock. Your eyes widened in horror at his reaction, waving your arms frantically. “It’s okay if you don’t want to! I’m sorry, I don’t know what got over me—”
“I–I do want to kiss you,” he rushed his words out, sounding in a hurry. He was just as whipped as you. 
You smiled, and that was all it took before you grabbed his tie, pulling him in to lock your lips with his.
It was magical. The feeling was something you’ve anticipated since forever, living up to those scenes you’ve seen in your favourite rom coms and having you giddy. His kiss was gentle but desperate, palms resting against the back of your neck and cheek, pulling you in for a deeper kiss. 
You drove him insane. The cherry chapstick he could taste on his tongue, the touch of your lips against his, never in a million years had he imagined himself in this exact scenario, usually he expected himself to fumble, but he was glad he didn’t. He wished the night would never end, and so did you.
Reluctantly so, you eventually pulled away from him, both of you having your breaths taken away and breathing deeply. Even though it was silent, no words even exchanged for a while, you found yourself basking in his presence and taking in the moment. Then, you broke out into a giddy smile, giggling out of nowhere.
Jungwon couldn’t help but be infected by you, smiling along and laughing. There it was, his smile, his dimples, the crinkles by his eyes. Everything about him was surreal to you, whatever happened tonight seemed surreal as a whole. 
“Can I take you home?”
“Of course you can.”
That night, you made sure to have him waiting outside your front yard as you ran in looking like cinderella dashing out of the ball, dashing towards the kitchen to fetch what you had promised. Cupcakes.
“I’ve made them,” you presented the cupcakes in all their glory, each decorated prettily and cutely. 
“You remembered!” he stared at them in awe, then looked back at you with the same expression. “Thank you, really,”
“It’s no biggie,” 
You passed him a reassuring smile, one that he responded back with a small grin. He glanced at his wrist watch for a second, then pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “It’s late, I’m sure you’re tired, and I still have to drive the car into the garage,”
“Right,” you laughed at his car parked half-assed by the sidewalk, luckily no passing car was present. “Goodnight, Won,”
“Goodnight, Y/N. I had a lot of fun tonight with you. I’m glad you were there,”
“Me too.”
Back in your room, you were done washing up and getting ready for bed, looking out your window as it has become a habit by now. Surprisingly,  Jungwon’s light was still switched on, and you had thought he was sound asleep by now, but guess he wasn’t. 
Speaking of him, he came crashing into your sight not even a minute later, notepad in hand and a cheeky smile that told you he had a plan up his sleeve. He stood right in front of the window, directly across your room, then held up the notepad in hand.
‘Be mine?’
This guy …
You grabbed your notepad, writing down the obvious answer, a lovesick smile that he never failed to put on your face. 
‘Yes!! Duh!!’
He let out a laugh at your response, but said nothing more, acting out a sleeping gesture to signal you to sleep soon and that he himself was also off to bed. You only nodded, but before bidding one another goodbye, he blew you a kiss.
You rolled your eyes at his playfulness, blowing one back and waving him goodnight, both of you unwilling to close the curtains and go to bed.
Either way, you were going to bed that night with peace and love in your mind, because finally, he belonged to you.
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( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )
☆ permanent taglist (open):
@silentkarnival @strvlveera @freshsaladbowl @bejewelledgirl @fakeuwus @yenqa @hsgwrld @ilovegyuvin @enhacatalog
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yuhhmcdonalds · 1 month
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Vox dating headcanons
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Type: Headcanons,Romantic partner,Romantic
Warnings: mentions of stalking and vox being possessive.
A/N: Requested by a friend! Enjoy!
When it comes to dating vox, he can be very possessive. Like those cameras or drones that he has? Yeah no doubt he will use them to stalk your every move and make sure you don’t try to cheat. Will watch you as you leave the building.
Uses his television head to select videos based on your mood. When you're feeling down, he'll recommend something comforting—and when you're ready for a laugh, he'll suggest your favorite comedy or memes.
I feel like vox would have like millions of tvs in his room but he specifically wants you to watch on his cause like Imagine you're vox and basically he can still see in that screen, he'd be basically just see you staring at him for hours apon hours if yall watch vids that long- and idk he just likes having your attention all to him
If you were to mention something that you desire but cannot have due to it being too costly, the next day he would unexpectedly surprise you with it as a gift. his willingness to buy whatever you want is no secret. His generosity knows no bounds, and he takes great pleasure in seeing the happiness that gifts bring.
So if you've been browsing online shops and you find yourself wanting something, don't hesitate to let Vox know, because chances are, he'll make sure you receive it. But also let him know that he is loved and appreciated for the person he is, and not just for his money.
One of the things that he is particularly firm about is his wish for you to stay away from Alastor, whom he feels might take advantage of you or manipulate you for his own purposes. Vox cares about you deeply, and will do everything in his power to ensure that you are not put in harm's way.
He becomes protective when someone attempts to impress you and win your affection, and he can't help but feel possessive and jealous when another man tries to win your attention. While his reactions may sometimes seem over the top and a little bit possessive. I mean it’s so obvious when some random dude that you don’t even know just buys you a drink.
Probably calls u “my love”, “my dear” and “sweetheart” stuff like that, just depends on that day and his mood.
When he has time, he'll probably dance with you if he's in the mood. He might just randomly pull you to the middle of the room and start swirling you around in an elegant waltz.(like that one scene in hazbin hotel ep where he started to dance with val-)
If you get hurt by someone, he'll literally track down whoever hurt you and make them pay. He'll be like a raging bull, out for revenge no matter the cost. He won't care about the consequences, or who stands in his way. He'll just keep going until whoever hurt you has regretted their actions.
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
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llamagoddessofficial · 7 months
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Hey llama, I was thinking about the p&p servant au, and I was wondering how would mc react to all of the guys attending a party she's serving at? Would it upset her to see Sans being haughty with other humans?
HOHOHOHO... I would assume at this point she's not yet one of Skull's servants. She belongs to someone else, someone who doesn't appreciate her like they do.
Sans: As much as he wants to immediately seek her out and take up all of her time, to talk to only her... he understands that it's a very busy party, and she's working. He steals her for a little bit of polite conversation, but he doesn't trap her- he doesn't want her to get in trouble. He's very kind to her, as he always is... admiring her from afar, catching her in quiet corners whenever he can, and openly scowling at anyone who comments about her. She enjoys finding ways to sneak a few hushed words with him in passing, and she loves the genuine delight on his face when he sees her in the crowd.
Would she be upset by Sans being haughty? No, not at all. Sans is only like that with people of his station or higher, never with servants. For her, there's honestly something really enjoyable about watching Sans be shitty to the kinds of people who are often the cruellest to her. He gets to say and do the things she wishes she could.
Red: She loves when Red shows up. All the staff do. Even before she knew him personally, she enjoyed when he appeared at events- Red is the life of the party, and often ends up causing some kind of scene that becomes talk of the town. Excessive drinking, ruinously beating someone at cards, pitting two idiots against each other until they get into a fight... all the servants knew that if Red was there, it was going to be a delightfully gossip-filled night in the staff quarters. Especially since Red was absolutely the type to woo any of the particularly eye-catching servants.
She likes him even more after meeting him. Because Red is excellent at distracting the other party members- most importantly, he distracts the host, usually immediately after shooting her a wink. Without her employer breathing down her neck she can get some rest in the middle of an otherwise completely action-packed night.
Skull: If Skull showed up to a party, that's a huge win for the host, and a ridiculous amount of social clout for them. So if Skull appears at the house, and expresses any open interest in Mc (which of course he will)... her employer will basically command her to be Lord Skull's personal entertainer for the evening. "Do whatever is necessary to keep our guest happy. Understand?"
If Red is there to third wheel and keep the conversations going, Mc and Skull would both probably actually have a lot of fun. Red knows his friend very well, and he can quickly and easily 'translate' for him to keep her engaged and relaxed. She likes getting to chat and eat, and Skull is just absolutely delighted that she's sat close enough for him to see her eyes.
If, for some reason, Red isn't there... it might be a bit more awkward. Skull will follow her around like an overly affectionate cat, but he gets overcome with shyness the moment she tries to start anything resembling a conversation. She'd still enjoy it, though- sitting with a silent guy who likes to stare still beats working.
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leohamatoblog · 1 month
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More Headcanons: Personality Quirks
Leo:
• calm and collected but also very stubborn. it's his way or the high way until you prove him otherwise
• feelings aren't foreign but definitely aren't something he's particularly good at. he's guarded when he's confronted with someone who's heart is on their sleeve
• feelings, that being said, aren't a sign of weakness in his eyes. go ahead, be angry or be sad, but get it together cause shit needs done
• only truly comforting if you're full blown sobbing, and depending on your relationship, big bro leo or soft boyfriend leo come out
• best at de-escalation unless he's the one fighting with the other person
• hates, hates, hates being wrong (i don't make the rules) but weirdly not afraid to apologize for being wrong, in his own way of course
• he hates the word sorry and believes it's just a word. since he's a man of few words, he prefers to show he's sorry. (i've mentioned it before and i'll die on this hill, king of acts of service)
• can dish advice like it's candy but for the life of him can't take his own advice
• the patience of an absolute saint, unless you're one of his brothers
• confrontation is his middle name
• sarcastic but very thoughtful and very appreciative
• besides mikey, he gets the most depressed because he feels like his only identity is a leader at times
• he strikes me as the kind of guy that just comes up out of nowhere and says "need some help with that?"
• willing to try anything once, open minded to an extent if it's not dangerous
• extremely trustworthy and loyal
Raph:
• hothead but the most sensitive out of all the brothers. very quick to cry
• feelings, like mikey, are shown on his sleeve. he makes it everyone's problem
• bad at communication...that's all i gotta say on that
• unhealthy projector of feelings but is willing to hear tips on how to do better
• the type to start crying if you start crying
• not the most patient in the world but if you're new something he tries (keyword: tries) to be as patient as possible
• he gets awkward if he knows he hurt someone's feelings and has to apologize. very bad at words and not the best at showing he's truly sorry
• horrible at advice
• chronic gaslighter in some situations (i don't make the rules)
• he truly does try to better himself if you call him out on his bs, he's able to hold himself accountable..in his own way
• even though he's a hothead, once you start crying, immediately he stops. the first sight of your lip quivering and he's shut up cause he crossed the line and he knows it
• doesn't mind confrontation
• loyal, loyal, loyal
• type to hold a grudge forever and never forget
• the "where's my hug at" guy
Donnie:
• his intelligence is his strongest suite but sometimes it goes to his head...literally
• very awkward with feelings and has no idea what to do in situations that call for comfort
• unless he's very comfortable with you, he will send you to someone else if you're upset so he doesn't upset you more
• not emotional but also not not emotional
• doesn't like confrontation at all unless you're nice about it
• best at communication out of all the guys because if he's bothered, he makes it very known
• besides mikey, he's very easily manipulated
• chronic overthinker
• very insecure in his abilities as a ninja
• hates to talk about his feelings and bottles them up until he explodes
• not one to get angry but he is the passive aggressive king
• germaphobe (no elabortion...he just is)
• he's very kind and very helpful when the situation calls for it
• he's the most gentle of all the guys
• definitely on the spectrum (not sure which, but he's definitely on one)
Mikey:
• number one most emotional out of all the brothers and doesn't show it
• jokester but is able to have meaningful and deep conversations the best
• most empathetic and compassionate but too quick to trust
• explosive temper that only comes out when his family or friends are in life threatening danger
• feelings are worn on his sleeve and he isn't ashamed to show them
• boundaries are an extreme work in progress (do with that what you will)
• sometimes is unable to decifer when not to make a joke
• will take jokes as far as they'll go to the point where the offense level is very questionable
• apologizes until it gets incredibly annoying
• will never be afraid to share his opinion but will always be quick to point out the good
• he cries all the time with no shame
• actually a very analytical and extreme outside the box thinker
• the "i had him/her first" friend if you get into a relationship
• very good listener when needed, but selective hearing most of the time
• he has adhd. nothing further needed.
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bearhugsandshrugs · 4 months
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A Job Well Done – Gortash x gn!Reader
The giveaway fill for the lovely @snapo-wan! Thank you for the great prompt and I hope you'll enjoy this.
Read on AO3 | Explicit | Blowjobs, Deepthroating, Praise Kink afab but gn Reader
You're Gortash's scribe, and one of his favorites. After a particularly successful day, the Archduke decides to reward you. But he has something very specific in mind. So specific, that he decides to praise you through it...
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It is late when you are hurrying through Wyrm’s Rock Fortress, on your way to Lord Gortash’s office. He gave you another project just last night, “With utmost importance” he declared, and as usual, you’d been diligent and efficient in gathering the required information he asked for. 
After several months of service, you already know that he prefers to have any type of mission outcome be delivered to him immediately, no matter the time of day. When you first started working for him there had been an instance where you had waited with the report until after breakfast, even though you’d had all intel available hours earlier, and when Gortash figured out that you’d waited for him to wake and eat, he lectured you in front of the entire staff, your head burning with embarrassment and frustration long after. 
So. You won’t make the same mistake twice. 
Knocking at his door, you wait for the familiar “Come in” from the Archduke before you enter, quickly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear to look not quite as messy and exhausted as you feel. 
“Ah”, he greets you when he glances up at you from his desk, “my favorite scribe.”
You can’t help but smile at the compliment – Gortash has been using more and more favorable words towards you over the past tendays, sending a small blush to your cheeks each time. 
“I have the information you asked for on Duke Portyr, Lord Gortash”, you say without formalities, quickly making your way over to his desk to hand him the report. You know he likes it that way, a professional familiarity. Both of you know what you are here for, after all. 
“Marvelous”, he replies, a genuine sense of excitement on his lips. “Do wait while I read it, will you? I might have another task for you.”
This isn’t unusual either. He often asks you to stay while he follows up on the documents you provide, immediately tasking you with something new afterwards. Over the many times this has happened before, you have come to appreciate the way his eyes settle on the pages, stern and focused. The way he licks his lips whenever something particularly interesting makes itself known. The way the corners of his mouth twitch up as he plots his next moves. If you’re being honest, watching him work is the best part of your job.
"Great work”, he mumbles when he finishes the last page, nodding. “Thank you.” 
Tearing his gaze away from his work he looks up at you, taking you in without another word. His eyes fall over your body, slowly, intently, as if he’s seeing you for the first time. There’s a bit of tension building as he continues to stare, wetting his lips absentmindedly as he seems to consider his next steps. 
Standing there in the middle of the room, being so shamelessly examined, you suddenly feel rather warm. Your face burns and your hands get sweaty, nervously expecting Gortash’s instructions. But he doesn’t tell you what’s next quite yet – instead, he stands up from behind his desk, sighing softly, satisfied.
“Say”, he addresses you head on and walks over to where you stand. “How do you feel about a promotion?”
Oh. Now this, you like. You’ve been working your ass off trying to make your way up the ranks, and you try to suppress the most blatant of grins as you gather the words for your answer. 
“That sounds great, my lord.”
He smirks at the address, eyes sparkling with something intense. A tease? A challenge? You’re not quite sure, but it’s exhilarating. 
“Then you shall have it”, he chuckles, and it’s the first time you hear him so relaxed. It’s so unlike him and absolutely in character all the same, and the deep sound of his amusement stirs something in your core. “Congratulations, dear.”
The last word drags out of his mouth almost obscenely, and you’re briefly confused, wondering if there is something else hidden underneath it all.
“Thank you”, you smile, taking a short bow like you’ve seen other, more senior members of his staff do. “I will not disappoint you, my lord.” 
“I have no doubts about that”, he smirks, stepping even closer to where you stand. He’s all in your personal space now, and you smell his perfume, smell the light scent of cigarettes, smell him, as he looks at you. “Now, for your reward.”
Reward? What else could he give you? He already promoted you, after all. 
“Have you ever tried Absinthe?”, Gortash asks, pushing past you to his side table. Pouring a dark green drink into two glasses, he continues: “It’s one of the rarest – and one of the strongest – liquors in Toril. I find it makes one more agreeable to life’s pleasures.”
You take the glass from him, clink it against his, then down the drink in one go: It’s sharp and hot against your throat, and you can immediately tell what he meant about Absinthe being one of the strongest drinks, the aftertaste reminding you of licorice. A small cloud of dizziness envelopes your mind, nearly as if you’ve had four, instead of one glasses.
“Life’s pleasures?”, you ask after a brief pause, picking up on his comment a tiny bit too late as the alcohol burns through your chest down to your stomach. 
Gortash chuckles, the entire sound a tease. “Yes, dear. You’ve been working so hard. I think it’s time you get to enjoy yourself a little.”
Oh? You’re surprised, but not unpleasantly so. Spending time with the Archduke has been a wish of yours for a while, and your heartbeat picks up as you realize that this is likely what’s going to happen. 
But Gortash pulls you back to reality as his deep voice echoes a command through the room: “On your knees then.”
Confused, you look at the empty glass in your hand, the floor, then back at him, but he eyes you sternly, slowly raising an eyebrow as you don’t comply. 
“Don’t make me repeat myself”, he whispers, and the tone is low and dangerous. 
You quickly set the glass down on his desk before kneeling down in the middle of the room. Banites had weird rituals. Lots of secrecy. Maybe this was all part of the promotion?
Gortash leisurely steps up to you and cups your face with his palm, gently pulling your chin up so you look at him. 
“Yes. Well done. I shall forgive that little display of hesitation, but I’d appreciate it if it would not happen again. Understood?”
You nod, quickly, eager to please. “Of course, my lord.”
The way he looks at you is different from all the times before. You briefly wonder what he wants you to do – but the intention becomes clear as his hands find his belt, undoing his buckle and then his pants, letting them drop to the floor. Your mouth falls open in surprise.
His hand wraps around his cock, half-hard already, and he sighs as he gives himself a few tentative strokes. You’re impressed by his girth, eyes locked onto the way he drags the foreskin back again and again, getting himself hard within a short moment. 
“I–” The words don’t find you, but you feel heat pooling down between your legs. To say you’re not turned on would be a lie. 
“Look at me”, Gortash instructs, and you look up to see him wet his lips in anticipation. “You’ve been so efficient, so reliable. Show me how good you can be with this”, he looks down to his cock, then back at you, “and I’ll make sure you’re rewarded.” 
Swallowing, you briefly consider if this is a test, but you don’t understand what it could be testing besides obedience. Plus, the way his cock stands hard at eye-level while you’re on your knees is so inviting…
You lean forward and Gortash, understanding that you’re ready to start, steps closer to you, letting his hand fall to the side. Bringing your lips to his tip and your hand to his shaft, you guide him into your mouth then let him drag back out. He feels heavy and warm inside your mouth, his skin smooth, and you massage him with your hand, adding a tighter pressure that your lips can’t match. Repeating the motion a few times until you taste the salty blend of precum on your tongue, you’re really starting to enjoy the way he’s hard for you, at your mercy, at your service .
“Good”, he sighs, and his hands find the top of your head as he starts guiding you, thrusting into your mouth with increasing need. “That’s it, dear.”
A soft whimper escapes your throat at the praise, and his cock twitches against the inside of your cheek in response. As he picks up the pace, holding you in place, you find yourself lost as to what to do with your hands – so you run them up against his thighs. He will likely enjoy that, won’t he?
But to your surprise, Gortash slows down instead. 
“Why don’t you put those hands to good use elsewhere?”, he chuckles, languidly moving in and out of your mouth. 
You sigh an unspoken question in response, not really sure what he could mean, but he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, freeing your eyes so that you can see him. 
“Look at me”, he demands, and when you look up, straining with his cock still inside of you, he smiles. “You’re so good for me”, he praises, “can you be good for yourself, too?”
Oh. Oh. 
Humming in agreement you direct your gaze down, trying to help you find the buttons of your shirt and the buckle of your belt. As you free yourself from your clothes, his movements slow down, and you don’t have to see his face to know that he is watching you intently. 
Tentatively stroking yourself between your legs, you moan involuntarily at the sensation. You had been so focused on him, on servicing him, that your own arousal eluded you until now. But the way your finger circles your clit feels good, and it adds to the lust you feel at his full girth pushing through your parted lips again and again. 
Gortash groans at the sight of you pleasuring yourself, and his hips bump against you with greed, pushing his cock to the back of your throat. Your gag reflex kicks in, briefly, and he pauses as you fight it. He caught you by surprise – you’re annoyed at yourself, you’re usually so good at this– 
“Let's try that again”, he suggests, voice so low and mellow it sends even more heat to pool between your legs. “Relax.”
You take a deep breath and relax the back of your throat as he pushes back in, deeper, and this time, it works. 
“Such a lovely mouth”, he sighs, and you feel his tip brush against the back of your throat. “Can you take more?” 
You groan around his cock in agreement, temporarily torn between readying yourself for him and touching yourself, and you notice in passing that you’re steadily climbing towards the edge of a cliff you never thought you’d face when you walked into his office earlier today. 
Gortash curses quietly under his breath as he bottoms in your throat, and you take slow, steady breaths through your nose as his cock glides back out of your mouth. Saliva drools down your chin, onto your breasts, and his hands tighten in your hair at the sight of it. 
“Fuck”, he pants, continuing to fuck you, “you’re taking it so well, you’re beautiful, spit running down your chest, you’re–”
He moans as your tongue brushes along the underside of his shaft, interrupting his praise. You feel so hot, and you know you won’t last long this way, so you pause, stopping your own tease, just for a moment. 
“Keep going, dear”, he begs, “use those clever fingers on yourself, show me how good you can be for yourself.” 
His voice is breaking as he instructs you, and you can tell by the way his hips move jerkily and irregularly that he’s close as well. 
When you reach back down between your legs, you whimper at your own touch. A few swift strokes, a couple of circles–
Moaning around his cock you tip over the edge, coming undone so forcefully he has to hold you by your head. Your voice vibrates around him, and he groans so loudly that it startles you, just as he twitches inside of you, spurting his cum deep down your throat.
When he pulls out of you, both of you are breathing heavily, sweat rolling down your foreheads and the back of your necks. 
Gortash reaches down to cup your cheek, brushing a thumb over your lips. “Great work, dearest”, he sighs, and this time around his praise is filled with appreciation. 
“Th-Thank you”, you reply, voice still hoarse, but you mean it. This has been rewarding in more than one way. 
He chuckles and helps you up, then refills your glasses as you fix yourself. “Here”, he says, offering you your glass back, “Do consider staying a little while longer.”
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teewritessmth · 6 months
Text
Where would the beta squad leave hickeys?
Warnings: Pretty self explanatory title.
Nikolas Omilana - (Neck)
⇒ He would be more of a classic guy. I can imagine you two after a long week snuggled in bed, him gently running his long fingers through your hair.
⇒ It would be the most random conversation between you two, up until he cups your jaw and leaves sweet kisses on the sides of your face.
⇒ They get lower and lower as he latches his mouth on the side of your neck, gently sucking and biting on the soft skin.
⇒ He pulls back to appreciate his work and smiles, snuggling into you.
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Sharky - (Breasts)
⇒ You'd given him some attitude tonight, particularly sour from something someone told you.
⇒ He was being patient and asking you questions about you day but what did you do? You whined like a pathetic bitch and got Sharky in a bad mood.
⇒ Now, Sharky hates playing the mean card but he definitely wasn't being mean as he left a trail of hickeys down your chest. You tried to move away, the stimulation being too much for you but he had you pinned down.
⇒ He smirked as you writhed in his hold, his mind plotting how he could tease you further while making sure you both got the most out of it.
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Kenny - (Thighs)
⇒ He was in the middle of eating you out, both your legs wrapped around his shoulders.
⇒ He kept drawing little circles on your legs and eventually started leaving hickeys all over your inner thighs.
⇒ He loved marking you there. It was an intimate place where only he'd see them. There was something so territorial about it.
⇒ Once he'd done that, he would always want to paint your thighs with hickeys.
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Aj Shabeel - (Lower Stomach)
⇒ An innocent movie night turned into an intense makeout session. Aj's hand moved across your entire body caressing you as he left kisses down your neck and collar bones.
⇒ He slowly took your shirt off you and left wet kisses on your torso. His hands undid your pants and his mouth connected to your lower stomach.
⇒ He left pink and purple bite marks all across your abdomen and gave you a cheeky smile when you gasped.
⇒ You wouldn't be wearing a crop top for a very long time.
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Chunkz - (Ass)
⇒ He wanted to spend some time with you but clearly you had other plans in your mind.
⇒ Now you were bent over his studio table as the man drilled your insides.
⇒ He smacked your ass and left a few hickeys to leave his mark. He loved marking you as his more than he loved majority of the things in his life.
⇒ Rule number 01, never interrupt his plans. Or maybe just do, you're the one benefitting from it after all.
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hades-in-bloom · 9 months
Text
Quit | Leon S. Kennedy x Reader
content: assumed older Leon, assumed age gap, golden retriever boyfriend with attitude, mentions of PTSD and light panic attacks, mentions of death, gn!reader, no mentions of y/n
author’s note: this man should be protected at all costs, you can’t tell me otherwise. might proofread later. as always, proceed at your own risk.
word count: still a drabble.
xoxo
***
He falls apart one day when you least expect him to, in the middle of the coffee shop, and you rush from your table towards the counter, where Leon juggles the change. His hands are shackled with heavy tremor. You don’t know what triggered him, but you know this frantic look that he has after particularly bad assignments. He doesn’t talk though, neither to you nor to the therapist assigned by the DSO. Appreciative of the mental health support offered by the agency, you hate his job with fiery passion.
You pull him to the side, helping out with putting the change back to his wallet. His breathing is ragged, and he clings to your palm, squeezing it in his own nice and tight. You thank the higher power that your favourite coffee corner is quite empty at this hour of the day. You couldn’t care less of what the staff would think of you.
You slide your free hand under his thick jacket and onto his heart in a desperate attempt to calm him down. It pains you to see him this way. Especially when he can’t stand feeling powerless and in need of assistance himself. Years of flying solo made him annoyingly self-sufficient.
He needs a minute, but then nods at you in reassurance, when barista calls out your order. You are spending precious seconds picking up two americanos before dragging Leon outside. He grabs onto the paper cup like his life depends on it, and makes a sip despite your attempts of preventing him from consuming caffeine. You don’t think it’s a good idea, taking his condition into account, but he doesn’t listen.
“You have to talk to me, Kennedy,” you sound a bit grumpy, but only because you worry about him. You plead openly. “Please, Leon.”
He scoffs bitterly into the hot beverage and takes his time before meeting your gaze with his own. His sudden panic attack seems to bridle by that point.
“I wish I could,” he assures. “It’s not that simple”.
You resent his excuses now more than ever. You do your best when trying to keep yourself together, and you spend some time walking in silence before reaching one of the benches in the park. New York is in its full glory this time of the year.
“Quit,” you say suddenly after placing yourself at the wooden bench with sights of the dated graffiti here and there. You let your stubbornness take over you, when you press on. “Why can’t you quit?”
The horrors that he has seen were unimaginable. It’s not even a figure a speech at this point. You can't imagine it as you have no idea what he does, but you don’t like how size of his paycheque seems to correlate with the level of danger that his job poses.
“I help people,” he replies quickly, and, although you want to, you can’t feel proud of him right now. He means a world to you, but sometimes you don’t know if he truly thinks the same about you. You know it’s your anger talking.
“After all these years you should have helped enough, shouldn't you?” You are harsh and impatient, and he eyes you with caution and sudden curiosity as he doesn’t see you this way before – righteously furious. Leon doesn’t know what to do with you, when he’s generally very good at thinking on his feet.
You both drink your coffee in heavy silence for a bit, listening to the chatter in the park; someone is playing a violin with their melody being too tragic to your liking.
He sighs loudly, visibly irritated, first. He doesn’t like it when two of you fight.
“What would I even do, if I quit?” His question makes you raise your brows. You don’t believe that he entertains a thought of quitting his job, but you appreciate the effort. Although you wouldn’t mind staying mad at him a tad longer.
“Marry me,” you say right away, without thinking too much. Leon can bet that you took choosing your coffee this morning more seriously, but you don’t backtrack. Sly smile is appearing on your lips, and you regret for a moment that you are in public. “I will make sure that you are busy.”
Leon is lost for words for a moment before he catches himself grinning despite his best attempts not to.
“Savage,” he calls you out mercilessly. Despite your conversation bearing a certain degree of absurdity, you definitely like him better now than moments before, when he was gasping for air back in the coffee shop.
Despite your playful mood, you don’t let him off the hook easily.
“You can’t die on me, Kennedy,” you have already accompanied him to way too many funerals to draw your own conclusions. “You better believe me, when I say that I’ll haunt you in the afterlife, if you do.”
Leon finishes his coffee at that time and throws out the paper cup before taking a place next to you at the bench. His look giving you sudden chills.
“They say in the vows, ‘till death do us part. Should we think of changing it for our ceremony?”
It takes you a never-ending second to realise what he did, and then it hits you. You can’t help it but stare at him in disbelief when he clearly enjoys the effect of his own words.
“You are unbelievable,” you conclude with conviction. This bastard just shrugs it off.
“That wasn’t me who started it, sweetheart.”
You want to slap him, but he kisses you instead, and you forget about the rest of the world for a bit. You lean into him, and the violin sounds in the distance do not seem that tragic to you anymore.
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deakyjoe · 1 year
Text
Somebody’s Watching Me Part 7
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Paring: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (“Sarge”, she/her pronouns, British, backstory)
Category: slowburn coworkers to friends to lovers with grumpy x sunshine dynamic/idiots in love
Summary: You and Simon take the next step towards happiness.
Warnings: smut (18+), f receiving oral, handjobs, vaginal fingering, unprotected PinV (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, praise kink, slightly sub!ghost, slightly dom!reader, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, swearing/cursing, British terminology/slang, the mask is off, domestic Ghost, brief mention of scars and stretch marks, this is just smut and fluff, *** to indicate where smut starts and ends
Word count: 5.7k
A/N: EJ doesn’t write and publish smut. EJ is a virgin who doesn’t know what sex is like in real life. EJ is nervous about posting this. Please be nice to EJ.
Part 8 here!
Consider buying me a coffee :)
The first time you met Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley you were rather disappointed. You'd heard tales of the mysterious killing machine who showed no mercy. But then, when you finally did come face to face with him, you discovered he was just a regular guy in a mask who complained when his tea was too hot to drink and when the chocolate digestive biscuits had run out. Hardly the legend everyone cracked him up to be.
And then you saw him in the field and your perception changed slightly. He was damn good at what he did. You'd be mildly impressed if you weren't already surrounded by the best of the best, yourself included. You weren't entirely convinced he was the scariest man ever to have lived, as everybody told you, but you could appreciate his skills. Sure, you were fearful of him in the way that he was your superior and you didn't want to make a bad first impression or have him kick you off the team. But you didn't think he was going to kill you in your sleep or anything as your new friend Sergeant MacTavish, better known as Soap, liked to joke.
However, your view of him changed again when he caught you and Soap in the rec room one evening. It was totally innocent. The two of you were unwinding from a long day by eating snacks, listening to music and sharing stories. You were in the middle of listening to a particularly good one from your fellow sergeant when your lieutenant walked in and his mouth snapped shut.
Ghost barely glanced at the two of you, face hidden by his infamous mask. It looked rather silly when he didn't have the rest of his tactical gear on.
"Carry on, Soap." You encouraged him, not put off by the presence of another person in the room. "What happened next?"
The Scot's eyes snapped back to yours and he cleared his throat. "Right, right uuhhh..."
He was cut off by Lieutenant Riley suddenly standing over the two of you behind the sofa, cup of tea clutched in his gloved hand. He was very sneaky. "No drinking on base."
You looked up to him, confused by what he was talking about before realising he was looking at the drink clasped in your hand. "It's apple juice, sir."
He said nothing, eyes burning through his mask into yours. You wouldn't back down from a stare off if that's what he wanted. If his game was intimidation then you wouldn't let him win. You'd grown used to men trying to put you down and you weren't going to let a man who hid his face behind a mask try to do the same.
"This music is inappropriate. Flirting between members of the team is forbidden." He really was trying to get you in trouble. But why? Did he already not like you?
You snorted at him. "I hardly think Sir Mix-a-Lot is the pinnacle of romance, lieutenant."
Soap's jaw hung open opposite you. He couldn't believe you were arguing with Ghost Riley. Especially as a new member of the team. It was risky. He respected it.
"Don't answer back, sergeant." He snapped, fist clenching at his side.
You just held your chin higher despite him towering over you. "I'm not, sir. I'm sure Sergeant MacTavish is a lovely man but, believe me, I have no interest in pursuing anyone on the team. And Sir Mix-a-Lot is certainly not my main means of seduction. I'm here to work. Nothing else."
If only you knew.
***
The kiss was feverish as Simon stumbled into your flat, not letting you go for a single second as he kicked the door shut harshly behind him and pushed his jacket off his shoulders and onto the floor. There was a passionate clash of teeth and tongues as you slammed him back against the wood, needing to be as close to him as possible. You were not going to let him go full Ghost on you in this situation and take complete control of it. You wanted Simon. And you wanted some power.
But Simon was kissing you.
Simon was kissing you.
It finally dawned what was happening.
He tasted like the bourbon he'd been drinking earlier, not that you were complaining, and you wondered if you tasted of the apple martini he'd made for you. The apple martini he hated.
You pulled back suddenly. "Oh, god. Do I taste like the apple martini? I'm sor-"
He chuckled lowly, leaning back into you. "Stop talking for once, Sarge."
The kiss resumed and his hands roamed every inch of you that he could reach, not neglecting any point of your body. You clung to him desperately, never wanting to let go. You wanted to consume him. And let him consume you.
He was too tall, always too fucking tall. So you grabbed at his shirt and dragged him down to meet you halfway, legs sliding up the outside of his almost as if you were trying to climb him. And maybe you were.
Simon groaned lowly into your mouth, breaking away for a mere second to catch his breath and stare longingly down at you before diving straight back in. As your arms snaked around the back of his neck, he turned the two of you around so you were up against the door. And you needed the support as he started to pepper kisses along your jawline and down your neck. He found your weak spot as you whined and began to lick and suckle there repeatedly for good measure.
As much as it felt good, you needed more of him so you threaded your fingers through the back of his hair and guided his lips back to yours. "More kissing, Simon."
He obliged happily.
You'd never get enough. There would never be enough Simon Riley in this world to satisfy you. And he had a sneaking suspicion of that so he was going to do his damn best to give you as much as he could.
When he broke away again, you huffed in protest but quickly stopped when he sank down to the floor.
Having Lieutenant Simon Riley on his knees in front of you was the most exciting, and unexpected, moment of your life.
You'd store away the image in your memory forever.
He looked up at you with his wide, dark eyes and started unbuttoning your jeans. When he glanced back up at you again for permission to take them off you just nodded. They were pulled off and discarded, his stare fixing on the underwear you were wearing. It wasn't your nicest pair but Simon didn't seem to care much as he parted your thighs with his hands and stuck his head between them, inhaling deeply.
Before you knew it, they were torn off and Simon's mouth was latched onto your clit. The man did know his targets well.
"Oh, my- fuck!" You slapped your hand across your mouth, head thrown back and slamming against the door, as he sucked and flicked at it in utter desperation.
When you dared to look down at him, even more arousal stirred in you to see his eyes - his pretty, pretty eyes - were fixed on you and your reactions. He seemed to be concentrating on what felt good for you. People pleaser.
Moans and other pleasured sounds tumbled from your lips as he lifted one of your legs and manoeuvred it over his shoulder so you were spread wide for him, hand planted on your thigh to knead the flesh there. He changed positions after that, moving so his mouth was closer to your opening and his nose bumped against your clit for stimulation instead.
And you couldn't help yourself when your hips started grinding against his face of their own accord, pure lust powering you forward.
"Simon." A gasp of his name left your mouth as he lapped up everything you were giving him, hands laced in his hair to pull him impossibly closer to you.
The thought that you were doing this against your front door and that any of your neighbours could hear you if they simply walked past was long gone as the burning feeling of your impending orgasm built up within you. But, then again, it was past midnight on New Years. Any of your neighbours still awake would probably be partying and having too much of their own fun to take any notice of loud noises coming from your flat.
"So good." You said, chest heaving and face glistening with sweat. "So, so good, Simon."
He groaned into you, eyes closing for just a second making his fair eyelashes flutter, and went harder. He devoured you like a man starved.
And with a final buck of your hips that had the tip of his nose hitting your clit just right, you were speeding over the edge into blissful oblivion. It took every ounce of willpower for you not to scream as your legs turned to jelly. He kept you upright with his hands on your hips as he slid back up to his full height.
"You. Taste. Heavenly." Every word was punctuated by a kiss to your lips, each one tasting distinctly of you.
Your voice was ragged as your eyelids became hooded and you grabbed his hand. "Bedroom."
"Yes, ma'am." He had no ounce of protest in him as he allowed you to drag him through your flat and to your room. Now things were started he wasn't going to hold back at all. He'd been denying himself of this for too long. He felt like it was deserved. Both for him and for you.
What he didn't expect was for you to take complete control as soon as you got there, pushing him onto the bed and demanding him to sit up against the headboard as he kicked his shoes off.
And when you crawled over to him and straddled his lap, lips immediately landing on his to kiss him even more, he felt a tingling inside of himself. It was a kind of buzz, almost like he was drunk but not quite. Maybe drunk on you. And the feeling of you against him.
You were underwear-less now, only a bra and shirt covering you, so when you started to softly grind against him Simon thought his brain might explode. Or other parts of him.
But you didn't give up, even as he grew painfully hard underneath you, you just kept going. You just kissed and kissed and kissed at his swollen lips, not being able to stop yourself.
But then you suddenly pulled back and looked down at him, head tilting to the side slightly. Your hands tapped along the hem of his shirt, barely grazing the skin of his stomach. "You're wearing too many clothes. May I?" You asked and he nodded, breathless. "Out loud."
"Yes." He was never going to say no to you. Especially not now. He'd lost the ability to deny you of anything a long time ago.
You tugged the shirt off of him and over his head, eyes immediately landing on his bare torso that was only very partially obscured by his dog tags. He was toned, that was for sure, but you knew that already and you admired the tattoos dispersed up and down his arms, encroaching onto his chest. However, you were more focused on the subtle things. The small freckles scattered in various places, scars marking the pale tone of his skin, a patch of hair on his lower abdomen that trailed off in a little path underneath his belt. Even the faded stretch marks dotted across the plains of his body.
You sighed happily. "You're so gorgeous it's unfair, Simon. Blond and pretty."
He flushed at that, blaming the heat in his cheeks on being turned on, and pulled you back in to kiss him to distract himself from it.
Your nails raked down his chest, arms lifting up when he pulled your own shirt off of you. His large hands explored the expanse of your skin, trailing up and down your sides before going to your back, undoing your bra and tossing it to the side. Like him, only your dog tags were left to cover the bare skin of your chest.
His eyes were drawn to the dog tags hanging around your neck, the chain settled in the valley of your breasts, and you both knew what you were thinking. The fantasy Simon had confided in you. But, silently, you agreed it was for another time.
His hands were warm when they landed on your chest, which you were thankful for, as they kneaded, pulled, tugged and tweaked. It felt good but you wanted to give him more.
"Can I touch you, Simon?" You asked, smiling when he nodded eagerly.
Your hands fumbled with his belt buckle, no patience left within you, and you pulled his trousers and underwear down just enough to release him once the belt was undone.
You stared at him.
Simon felt self-conscious.
He had no reason to.
He was long and thick, your mouth watering at the sight. Oh, how you longed for him. To have him in your mouth. To taste him. To feel him inside you. But that was for another time.
As soon as your hand wrapped around him his eyes screwed shut and his head was thrown back against the wall, soft sounds leaving his mouth.
"Mm-mm. Eyes open and on me, Simon." You said quietly, watching his chest heave and his breaths come out raggedly.
His eyes shot open at the mention of his name, cheeks pink and rosy as he made eye contact with you.
"So pretty..." You trailed off, smiling at him. He really was beautiful. Especially like this. "Come on, pretty boy. Keep making those pretty, little noises for me."
He whimpered, actually whimpered.
"Oh-ho-ho! Do you like praise, Simon?"
He nodded frantically, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. "Please."
"You like to hear how well you're doing for me? How beautiful you look? Hm?"
Your hand tightened around his tip before you sunk it back down again to the base, twisting your wrist to give him more friction.
A garbled sentence left his mouth, something incoherent he was saying to himself.
"Speak up, Riley. I need to hear you." You looked away from his face for a moment to where your hand was pumping him, speeding up the action slightly.
"Fuck, so close. I'm gonna- gonna-"
"Already?" You raised your brows at him. You weren’t disappointed, just surprised and rather flattered.
"I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm sorry." He apologised profusely, face scrunched and hands clawing at the bedsheets on either side of him. "So, so sorry. Fuck-"
"It's okay. Come for me." And all it took was a swipe of your thumb over his tip.
He groaned lowly as hot ropes of cum spurted from him, coating your hand and his stomach. More laboured breathing from him had you placing your clean hand on his chest to calm him down.
***
"Breathe, Simon. Inhale... Exhale... Good." You leant forward and kissed his cheek before looking down at the mess beneath you. "Umm..."
"Shit, uh..." He reached for the tissues next to your bed and frantically wiped away what he could. "You might need to wash your hands."
"Probably." You smiled at him.
"I'm sorry that I... so fast." He panted, face scrunched in... embarrassment?
"Don't apologise. If I'm sitting here calling you pretty and encouraging it, then I want you to come." You revelled in the way his cheeks flushed and his eyes widened a fraction.
"But we didn't- you didn't-"
You shook your head, crawling off of him to go to the bathroom. "You already made me come."
"Yeah, but-"
"No buts." You tutted and called over your shoulder one last time before disappearing out of the room. "I'll be back in a minute."
You could feel his stare on the back of you as you left, smiling at the idea of him watching you. When you returned a couple of minutes later with a damp cloth in your hand to clean him up, you found him staring at the wall opposite and twiddling his thumbs together. He looked anxious.
"What's wrong?" You asked softly as you sat down next to him and wiped his stomach.
"Nothing." He answered too quickly for your liking.
"C'mon, Simon. I know you now. Don't lie to me. Please. You can tell me." You glanced back up at him as you finished, turning slightly to throw the cloth into your laundry hamper in the corner of your room. You managed to get it in, you did have impeccable aim.
He didn't answer as he watched you crawl over him to the unoccupied side of the bed and get under the duvet.
"At least take off your jeans and get in here with me." You sighed, propping yourself up on your elbow. And when he still did nothing, you had a sudden realisation. "Unless you want to leave. Because you were leaving before you came back..."
The idea broke your heart. Maybe he wanted this to be a one time thing to let off some steam, to alleviate the tension that had been growing between you. What if this wasn't what you hoped it would be?
He snapped out of his daze at that, standing and pushing off the rest of his clothes before diving in next to you and sidling up close. "No, no. Don't say that. I don't want to leave."
"Okay, good." You smiled at him, getting slightly closer. "Tell me what's wrong."
He chewed absentmindedly on his inner cheek. "Overthinking."
It was a simple answer that didn't explain much. But you understood him.
"Okay." Your hand lifted to his face, thumb swiping over cheek softly as you kissed him gently. "You can tell me whatever you need to whenever you need to."
He nodded, kissing you again.
Your fingers moved to the back of his head, carding through the blond strands. His eyes fluttered shut, a relieved breath leaving his mouth.
"I'm sorry." He whispered. "I overthink. Especially with this."
"Don't apologise, Simon." You chuckled, wanting to lighten the mood. "Thought you told me you were more dominant in bed."
"Nuh-uh. I told you it depends." He smiled back, one of his proper smiles that was reserved only for you to see as his eyes snapped back open.
"Lucky me then."
There was a short moment of silence before you approached the topic that was eating away at you.
"Why now?" You asked, shifting so your noses grazed against one another.
"Because I've wanted to for a while." He kissed you quickly, hand tracing over your hip. "And because I'm selfish."
Curious. "Selfish?"
"Too selfish to think about the consequences because I want you too much."
Huh. "Meaning?"
He paused, thinking about his words carefully. "I'm prioritising my wants, pleasures, needs over logical arguments."
"You make no sense, Riley. But I'll take it if it means this." You sighed into his mouth as you kissed him again. "I wish you'd done it sooner. We've been spending time together for months."
"I wouldn't let myself. It's not allowed. Technically." He added the last bit on hastily. "And I wasn't going to allow it to happen."
"You were going to ignore your feelings?" You couldn't judge him exactly. You'd been doing the same.
"Have been for months. Unsuccessfully." He grunted, winding his hand around your waist and tugging you closer so you were chest to chest. "But you wouldn't leave me alone."
"Hey! I offered you an out." You protested weakly, smiling widely at him still.
"Didn't mean literally." He huffed. "Just constantly on my fucking mind."
Your eyes brightened at that and Simon felt himself fall just that little bit farther. You, on the other hand, were trying to control yourself. There were three options: jump him again, confess your undying love or just stay quiet in the hopes he'd say a little more.
Option three was the safest.
He kissed you again, lingering for a moment this time. "Couldn't get you off my bloody mind. Always ticking around in there."
"I'm flattered, Riley." You whispered. "Does that mean I'm the last thing you masturbated to which is why you refused to answer during Truth or Drink?"
"Classified." He paused. "But yes."
You giggled and pressed your lips against his, moaning quietly when he rolled the two of you over so you were underneath him.
He pulled away for a moment, mumbling into your mouth. "Definitely worth any consequences."
You were wildly inquisitive about the whole thing, unable to stop yourself from inquiring. "What are the potential consequences?"
"Dishonourably discharged."
"Wait, really?" You pushed slightly on his chest, suddenly panicked at the idea.
"Nah." Dickhead. "Could be reassigned."
You whined quietly. "That's shit."
"Mhm, don't think Price would let it happen though." He lowered himself down again and planted an open mouthed kiss on your jaw, grazing his teeth against your skin. "I wouldn't let him let it happen."
You sighed contently, arms snaking around his back. "Hmm, and why's that?"
"I'm rather fond of you."
"Rather fond of me... what are you? Eighty?" You cackled, chest rumbling against his.
He rolled his eyes at you. "Ever the charmer, Sarge."
"I'm sorry." You mock pouted. "Did I hurt your feelings?"
"Shut up." He silenced you with his own mouth, tongue curling against yours, and revelled in the sigh you let out against him.
But you weren't done with your interrogation, forever wanting to know more. "Why did you tell me happy new year before you kissed me?"
"Because I wanted to kiss you at midnight." He said it like it was obvious. It wasn't.
"Why didn't you?" Your nose scrunched so Simon smoothed it out with his thumb.
"Didn't think it'd be a good idea." The warm brown of his eyes flickered as his gaze roamed your face, finally taking in how lucky he was being able to look at you so close up.
"But you changed your mind." You offered, assuming that was right.
It was. "I did."
"Why?"
He chuckled. "So many questions."
You cowered slightly. "Sorry."
"Don't be sorry, Sarge." He bumped his nose against yours. "You looked sad when I didn't."
Oh, bollocks. "You noticed that?"
He nodded, looking as if he pitied you. "You're not very good at hiding your emotions. Your face speaks volumes."
Double bollocks. "Then you must've known how I felt for ages."
"Suspected. Thought it was wishful thinking."
There were a whole array of words to express how stupid he was. You refrained from using all of them and stayed silent.
Unlucky for you, Simon could read it on your face. "I can tell you're itching to insult me."
"But I'm not going to." You shook your head, readjusting on the pillow beneath you. "All I'll say is... you're so pretty, Simon."
"Oh, bugger off." He moved to push away from you completely.
But you had other plans as you tightened your hold around his back. "Never!"
***
He landed on top of you with a groan and a mumbled apology. It was fine. You were trained to drag about three fully grown men out of a burning if you had to. He felt like nothing on top of you despite being six foot four and muscly as hell. It was rather nice actually, feeling all of him pressed up against you. And yes, that meant all of him.
Skin heating up at that, you hoped he didn't notice how you were suddenly burning as he lifted himself back onto his elbows and looked down at you. Nothing was said on the matter, which you were glad about. What you were even more glad about was him mumbling something about wanting more orgasms out of you and then proceeding to lower himself down your body, trailing tender kisses across your skin as he went.
When he got far enough down, Simon situated himself between your legs. It seemed to be his favourite place in recent times. Secretly, he'd admit it was. You didn't protest when he placed a large hand on either thigh and opened you up for him again, just let him do what he wanted. And he seemed very happy to spend his time pleasuring you and making sure you felt good even though he appeared to care very little about himself.
So, that's how you spent god knows how long. You writhing underneath his firm grip and him spending a countless amount of time between your legs as he drew out orgasm after orgasm. Even when you became sensitive and the overstimulation was getting to be too much, he just cooed and encouraged you further.
"Come on, Sarge. I know you can do one more for me. Just one more." He comforted you, fingers of one hand stroking the soft flesh of your inner thigh and the fingers of the other hand inside you. "Good girl. Come on."
Maybe he wasn't the only one with a thing for praise.
And after what seemed like hours of pure delight for you, he was finally satisfied with what he'd done and tentatively returned to his space next to you in bed.
He fell asleep quickly after that, you wrapped in his arms, with a relaxed expression on his face. And when you finally joined him in his state of unconsciousness after watching him breathe deeply for a while, you dreamt only of him. His face, his touch, his eyes roaming your mind. It was peaceful. And you were happy.
When you awoke to Simon placing lazy kisses along your shoulder you thought maybe you'd died and gone to heaven. The only reminder that this was still reality was the soreness between your legs and the dull ache you still had for him, craving him.
He was behind you, spooning you, and you could feel he was already hard against your back. "Good morning, Sarge."
Morning voice. Husky. Deep. Delectable. You could drown in it.
"Good morning." You returned, pressing back against him and loving the hiss he let out.
And before you knew it, your head was angled awkwardly to look over your shoulder so you could kiss him and he was sliding into you. Finally. You gasped into his mouth when he did, immediately urging him to move. His hands gripped your hips tightly, using you to help the friction.
You rocked against each other, the position not being one of your favourites as you couldn't see his face or reactions properly, but he made up for it with the sounds he was letting out right next to your ear. And it was intimate, you were still practically cuddling.
"Fuck, Sarge." He groaned into your shoulder, biting down slightly to muffle himself.
That only set you off further, grinding yourself back harder against him. You could do this forever, never wanted him to stop. No, you needed him to never stop. This was perfect. The two of you alone forever in your bed, not a care in the world. Just rounds and rounds of sex and the occasional conversation here and there.
You were caught off guard by his hand snaking around to your front and his fingers suddenly circling your clit.
You gasped and bucked against his hand. "Simo-" His name was cut off by another choked sound leaving your mouth. "Don't stop, please don't stop."
It didn't need to be said, the promise of not stopping was silent. But he gave you verbal confirmation anyway. "Never, Sarge. Come on. Come for me. That's it, good girl.”
The climax was approaching rapidly and he knew that from the way you were beginning to spasm around him, his own also crawling up on him. But you were priority.
So he held off until you were spent, head thrown back against him and eyes screwed shut as you let out breathless pants in a mixture of soft sounds.
He didn't stop, just quickened his pace as he hips began to falter. "Where, Sarge?"
You knew what he meant. "In me. Please, in me."
So he did. His warmth filled you up as he came inside you, immediately relaxing behind you with more kisses scattered along the skin of your shoulder.
After he pulled out of you, it took a few moments before you managed to catch your breath again. God, you'd never get enough of this.
***
There was suddenly heavy breathing behind you. Simon had fallen asleep again. Typical man.
With the remnants of him dripping out of you, you rushed off to the toilet to clean up and get partially ready for the day - you brushed your teeth and put on some clean clothes. When you were done, you returned to your bedroom to find him still fast asleep. You could leave him for a while longer. He always looked tired.
You trotted to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea, getting out a second mug and teabag for Simon when he finally woke up for good.
With your cup of tea in one hand and your phone in the other as you checked all your messages from friends wishing you a happy new year, you leant against the counter and failed to notice a certain someone waking up in your room some time later.
Simon awoke to a cold bed, his arm stretching out to find you only for you not to be there. He felt disappointed for a moment before remembering the events of earlier in the morning. Shit, had he really fallen back to sleep instantly?
A sense of embarrassment flooding through him, he sat up quickly and looked around. His clothes were tossed to various places around the room, as were yours. You really hadn't bothered to clean up. He liked that for some reason.
He had nothing else with him so just pulled his t-shirt and boxer briefs back on from the day before, hoping they weren't too crinkled. But he doubted you'd care if they were.
Then, before leaving your bedroom, he thought of you. And what had finally happened between the two of you. Even though he probably should've, he didn't regret it one bit.
Simon Riley had been torturing himself for weeks over you. The feelings had started growing as soon as you smiled at him in the goddamn cheese aisle, before you even knew who he was. And whilst they hadn't solidified until a little more down the line, he knew he wouldn't be able to let you go after that. And when you actually seemed to like him - him, not Ghost, not Lieutenant Riley, just Simon - he knew he was inevitably screwed.
It didn't help that you looked at him so adoringly, never a glimpse of hostility in your sparkling eyes, with an ever permanent smile on your lips. It's like you were daring him to try not being head over heels for you. And he'd hate himself for breaking every rule ever laid out to him by Price and other higher ups if you didn't make him feel so good, so warm inside.
And that's exactly what he felt as he walked in on you in your kitchen, humming to yourself as you rifled through your fridge for something to eat. The usual tingling sensation you set off in him was in full power as you turned to him, smiling spreading at the sight of him and eyes twinkling. It didn't help that you looked flushed and glowing with your slightly messed up hair and shaky legs. Freshly fucked, he'd describe it as. And he was the cause.
He approached you without a moment of hesitation, cupped your face in his hands and kissed you. "Good morning, Sarge."
You smiled against his mouth. "Second good morning, actually. We already did this once."
"Mhm, and what an amazing first good morning it was." He hummed against you, kissing you again. And again. And again.
Reluctantly you broke away, not fully out of his grasp though. "Do you want tea?"
"I'd love tea." He replied, still not letting you go.
"Simon, I need my body to make you tea." You chortled.
"And I need your body for other things." He whispered into your ear.
"Cheeky." You scoffed and pushed him away. "I will make you tea. Go sit down."
He agreed only after planting another lingering kiss on you and left for the living room. This was surreal to him. He was with someone he liked. Who liked him back. And you were... happy together. There was no underlying venom or bitterness fuelling the feelings, specifically the lust, between you. This kind of thing didn't happen for Simon Riley. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he'd wake up in some cold safe house a million miles away from here only to find out this was some sick fantasy his mind conjured to play cruel tricks on him. But you were so warm and so good, so everything Simon didn't deserve. Which is why he'd selfishly keep you for as long as he could.
And when you emerged out of the kitchen, precariously balancing two cups of tea, with a look towards him full of adoration, he knew he was so screwed that it was almost funny. Simon decided then that if you thought about him half as often as he thought about you, with just a pinch of the infatuation he felt for you, that he was a very lucky man.
"I haven't got much for breakfast, I'm afraid. Probably got a box of Cheerios or something in a cupboard. Or we could go out to eat. If you'd like." You suggested, stood in front of him with your hands twisting together in embarrassment. You weren't used to hosting company in the mornings and having him here was so strange after him leaving before daybreak all the previous times he'd slept on your sofa. This was different though. This time he'd slept in your bed.
Simon stared up at you, intensity gone from his gaze to leave only affection. "I don't care." He really didn't.
He didn't need some fancy breakfast cooked up for him. He didn't need the probably stale cereal you offered. He didn't need anything aside from one thing.
All he needed, for now, was you.
A/N: I’ll let them be happy… for now. Please don’t comment on the smut if it’s bad. And full disclosure: Sarge and Soap were listening to Baby Got Back.
Thanks to @ramadiiiisme for consulting with me on the smut 🙏🥰
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the-kaedageist · 6 months
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congrats on hitting your follower milestone!! for a CR short fic prompt, how about shadowgast where essek is learning to coexist with caleb's cats? :)
I'm emerging from the abyss to answer this prompt 11 months later, but I hope you enjoy! I also believe someone else had Caleb having a cat named Gretchen before me and my brain borrowed it from someone; apologies, it just fit so well.
“Ah,” says Caleb when Essek arrives for their weekly meeting. “Since you were here last, I have acquired another housemate.”
This feels like a somewhat alarming statement. Thankfully, the suspense is not held for long - a moment later, a calico cat makes her way daintily into the room with them, stares up at Essek, and hisses.
“Gretchen,” Caleb scolds, along with a long string of Zemnian that Essek’s rudimentary skills can’t hope to follow. He’s just about mastered ‘please’, ‘thank you’, and some of the major foods; nowhere near native-speaker-speaking-to-his-cat level.
Essek tries not to be offended at being hissed at, even as he can feel his own ears flicking back behind his head in annoyance. “I have done nothing to you,” he says to the cat.
“She is scared,” says Caleb, reaching down to scritch the calico’s ears. She glares at Essek but submits happily to the pets. “She will get used to you.”
The cat eyes him like a particularly unpleasant thing that has been dropped on the floor. Well, Essek thinks, he has certainly had nemeses before. What is one more?
The situation does not improve from there. Every week, Essek Teleports to Caleb’s house, and every week, Gretchen acts as though Essek has offended her to the very depths of her being. (It probably doesn’t help that the third time this happened, Essek hissed back.)
By the end of the first month, Essek despairs that he will ever have a good relationship with Caleb’s animal companion.
At night, when he’s downstairs studying and Caleb is asleep, Essek sneaks back upstairs to find Gretchen curled up at Caleb’s side, purring happily. When Caleb is reading on the couch and Essek is attempting to cook in the kitchen, he peeks in to find Gretchen stubbornly attempting to seat herself in the middle of Caleb’s book, to Caleb’s laughter.
It seems that although they loathe one another, he and Gretchen share a love of the same man. Surely there is common ground they can find.
One night, Yasha and Beau come over for dinner. Gretchen is ambivalent about Beau (although no hissing is involved), but she waltzes right up to Yasha and starts headbutting her ankle.
“Oooh, hello, little beauty,” Yasha says, reaching down to scratch her cheek. Gretchen stares up at her adoringly. Essek also stares at her, aghast and betrayed.
“What is this?” he asks like a spurned lover.
“What is what?” Beau asked. She glanced over at Yasha. “Oh, the cat? She loves Yasha. For obvious reasons, of course.”
Essek rolls his eyes. “I thought she did not like strangers.”
Beau blinks. Her eyes narrow and her mouth stretches into a smirk. “Does the cat not like you, Essek?”
“No,” Essek denies quickly. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He quickly makes an exit to the kitchen, making excuses about checking the soup, before he can be pestered further.
That is when he begins to wonder what he’s doing wrong.
First, he tries dressing more comfortably for his trips to Caleb’s. Perhaps, Gretchen is intimidated by the points on his mantle and the finery of his robes – is that a thing cats care about? The only cats Essek has ever encountered have been moorbounders, and usually they care more about the quality of their meal.
Unfortunately, even in loose pants and a soft shirt, Gretchen still glares and hides from him on his next visit. Caleb seems to appreciate the change though, pulling Essek into his arms and cuddling with him more than normal, and Essek makes a mental note that perhaps more comfortable clothing was in order regardless of the cat’s opinion.
Next, he attempts to determine if Yasha has bribed the cat for her love. He does research and discovers that cats are known to love meat and fish. The next week, when he Teleports into Caleb’s house, he pulls out a handkerchief with some pieces of fish stashed inside and lays it out on the floor. Gretchen does her usual routine of glaring at him while growling before she slowly approaches to sniff the food.
Caleb looks amused. “You brought a present?”
Essek shrugs, feeling heat on the back of his neck. “She is part of your family.”
Gretchen eats up every morsel of fish, to Essek’s relief. However, once her meal is complete, she goes back to hissing and glowering as though no offering had ever been made.
Essek is starting to feel a bit offended. This feels personal.
One night, he cuddles up with Caleb, dejected, as Caleb strokes his hands through Essek’s hair and coils a curl around his finger. “You are quieter than usual,” says Caleb. “Is something wrong?”
Essek glances up at him through his lashes. “Gretchen does not like me.”
Caleb says, “hmm” and continues to stroke Essek’s hair. “I have thought much about this, and I think she sees you as another cat.”
This is not something Essek has ever considered. “Another cat?” he echoes, surprised.
Caleb presses a kiss to his hairline. “You have cat-like mannerisms. You are prickly and picky and beautiful. Does it surprise you at all?”
Essek thinks for a moment; perhaps it does make some sort of strange sense. “So if I am another cat, how do I win her affection?” he asks at last.
“Well,” says Caleb, “ideally I would have put you both in adjoining rooms and let you sniff each other under the door.”
Essek gives him an unamused look. “Caleb Widogast, I am not actually a cat.”
Caleb tousles his hair with a small chuckle. “Ja, of course. Then I would say…be around her. In, ah, her orbit, so to speak. Give her space, but be present and let her get used to you.”
“I have been present,” says Essek petulantly. “She does not like me.”
Caleb shakes his head. “You either approach her head-on or you give her a wide berth – understandable, but I do not think it helps.” He lays his forehead against Essek’s curls. “You are stubborn. You will find a way.”
And slowly, Essek does.
He continues to bring Gretchen fish, but retreats beyond arm’s reach so that she can eat without feeling threatened. He is careful to seat himself within her watchful gaze when she is near, so that she will know his location. He stops trying to befriend and starts letting her be, and Caleb had been right – once he gives her the space to get to know him on her own terms, Gretchen finally, finally begins to thaw.
The first day she approaches him after her fish treat and lets him tentatively reach down to scratch her ears, Essek feels as though he’d been rewarded with a monumental gift. He meets Caleb’s gaze – and Caleb smiles sappily at him, as though all he’d ever wanted for his life was Essek and a cat, in this little house, with everyone getting along.
“You see?” Essek says to Gretchen. “I am not so bad.”
She turns around to show him her butthole and trots away with her tail held high. Essek laughs. “Perhaps we still have some ways to go.”
Caleb wraps an arm around his shoulders. “It takes time,” he says sagely, and Essek can do nothing more than laugh exasperatedly and press a kiss to his cheek.
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