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#i saw only a few sets of him so here i am giving him the attention he deserves
forlix · 7 months
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𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁・l.f.
— in which you forget that your hot housemate follows you on twitter.
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𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.1k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・roommate!felix x gn!streamer!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, flirting, kind of an smau, implied friends to lovers, humor if u count jeongin being a piece of shit
𝗮/𝗻・saw this tweet the other day and it was so painfully lix coded that i knew i had to write something asap. contains a tiny bit of gaming jargon but is hopefully comprehensible. ENJOY ♡
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y/n ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ @ y/nxx
if someone brings you fresh cut fruit to your table when you're gaming, they either like LIKE you or it's your mom
11:23 A.M.・Oct. 2023・220.2K Views
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bokkie 🐣 liked your post.
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“My tweet?”
You read aloud the newest text in your chatroom, and your face brightens when you remember the one in question.
“Oh, about the fruit—no, it’s so true though. And I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but I have an inkling she did it to guilt trip me." You change your posture and adopt your best motherly tone of voice. "‘This is your tenth consecutive hour wasting your young adulthood in front of that damn screen. I am now going to hand deliver apple slices straight to your mouth.’ That kind of vibe, y'know?"
A slew of messages follows your anecdote, but it is a comment from one of your moderators that catches your eye first:
je0ng1n: what about the other option tho 👀
You groan at the sight of his username. “Man, why are you always here? Don't you have a job?"
je0ng1n: i’m on break je0ng1n: taking a dump je0ng1n: ungrateful bitch
You brandish a middle finger to the camera. “Hope the dump sucks."
je0ng1n: HEY je0ng1n: don’t even joke about that :(
An involuntary cackle precedes your next words. “If you’re actually wondering, though, the only person who’s brought me fruit while I’m playing video games is indeed my mother. Heartbreaking, I know.”
At this, the steady flow of messages morphs into a gallery of depressed cat emoticons; your audience never fails to impress you with their way with words.
“But if someone other than your disappointed parent is bringing you fruit,” you go on, “they might as well get on one knee in the process, honestly. That's such an adorable, loving thing to do.”
Suddenly, the words MATCH FOUND splash across your monitor, and you move your cursor to accept the game invite—only to be met with a pop-up window and a familiar error sound that grates on your ears like screeching tires.
You know how this story ends: the lights in your mouse go dark, and you look on in dejected silence.
je0ng1n: LMFAOOOOO je0ng1n: bro’s mouse definitely just exploded again
“You guessed it," you sigh. “Hang tight for a sec, guys."
Half an hour ago, you could’ve sworn you heard sneakers being kicked off, a set of keys falling against plastic. Now, you pull one side of your headphones off and roll your chair a few feet backward, calling through your half-open door: “Lix, are you home?”
You pick up on a soft clunk that sounds like metal hitting wood—the cutting board, maybe?—and then your housemate's low, accented answer bounces off the walls of your shared hallway.
“Yeah, you alright?”
“The mouse,” you say helplessly.
“Ah.” It’s not the first time you’ve summoned him for this. “Be right there.”
A few seconds later, you remember to tack on a hurried disclaimer: “I’m live, by the way!”
“I know.”
This brings a bashful smile to your face, though the expression quickly turns to one of pure dismay when you return to your desk and witness the disastrous state of your chat.
Felix has become a regular guest on your stream by now, always popping in to show you a TikTok or ask for your opinion on a new pair of jeans or simply give your camera an awkward wave—but he may as well own your channel with how completely and unequivocally he has captured the hearts of your viewers. They’re convinced he’s the sexiest person to ever grace the earth, with his chiseled features and coffee-colored eyes; with a grin that could set entire estates on fire and a voice that could scrape the nadir of the Grand Canyon.
Do you agree? Absolutely.
Do you have any intention of voicing this sentiment, so long as you’re splitting rent with him? Absolutely the hell not.
Another of Jeongin’s messages—GET ME HIS NUMBER OR I GET VIOLENT—inspires you to minimize the stream window before Felix gets here. It’s for the best.
A few moments later, the door opens, and the air shifts inside your room. A hand comes to rest on the top of your head; a familiar silhouette appears in your periphery. There is a fond grin plastered across your face and a bright greeting sitting readily on the tip of your tongue.
But then, Felix places a plate of freshly cut fruit in the empty space to the left of your keyboard—here, he hums, the sound falling against the shell of your ear like a drop of melted chocolate. And the gears of your brain grind to a complete stop.
There is no further acknowledgment; no supplementary explanation for what he's just done. He simply picks up your mouse and gets to work.
The words of your tweet swim dizzyingly before your eyes, not unlike those halos of stars and birds that revolve around disoriented cartoon characters. And you’re suddenly, achingly aware of your roommate's arm nudging against yours as he tinkers away; of the aromas of vanilla and laundry detergent that always come with his proximity; of the heat that’s risen to your face, and the plethora of questions that have surfaced to your mind.
A soft huff of laughter follows a gentle utterance of your name, and you snap out of your trance. Felix’s eyes are glinting with amusement when you meet them.
“It’s been recalibrated,” he says, handing back your mouse. “Just give it a few minutes.”
Your fingertips brush over his palm when you accept the object, and even this blink of contact has your heart performing an elaborate hopscotch routine across the plane of your chest.
It’s either your mom, or…
“Thank you,” you mumble, finally retrieving your larynx from the bottom of the Atlantic.
“Anytime,” Felix returns, and you know he means it. “You need a duo, by the way?"
“Yes, please.”
He gives you a warm smile at this, and there’s a hint of something else—something new—in the curve of his lips. “Give me two.” And he’s gone as quickly as he'd come.
You will never know how Felix slips his phone out of his pocket the second he emerges from your room, his pulse hounding his ears as he turns a nervous gaze upon his screen.
There is now a supersonic blur of messages saturating your chatroom, a colorful cacophony of moving emotes and capital letters, but he is focused wholly on the person in front of the camera and how you slowly lift a hand to your mouth, deathly silent despite your every viewer demanding your comment on the matter, your sanguine cheeks visible even through the gaps of your fingers.
That is all he needs to know.
Felix sinks into the leather of his gaming chair and bends to power on his computer. Only after a deep breath blows past his lips does his smile start to stretch into a grin, every bit as embarrassed as it is relieved.
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je0ng1n: no way je0ng1n: no fucking way je0ng1n: my heart fluttered je0ng1n: wtf je0ng1n: how’d you pull HIM??
y/nxx has removed je0ng1n as a moderator of this channel.
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𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡
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© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
Part 3 to Truth or Dare and Truth or Dare Part 2
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader, Soap
Summary: After being so rudely interrupted in the middle of you and your lieutenant's tryst, but he made a promise. "This isn't over." You hope that he plans to keep it, but when? Things might have to wait as you are assigned to a mission with him. But when being close proves to much, will both of you be able to hold off on your lust or will you succumb to all that tension?
Word Count: 8.2k
Warnings:
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Part 4: READ HERE
Lt. Riley storms out of the munitions depot seething with frustration as he searches for the private waiting to relay Price’s message to him. Of all the fucking times to be interrupted, why in the hell did it have to be this one time when he was so close to exploring the depths of what the connection sparked between you could bring. Now he is left with nothing but anger and a sizeable bulge in his pants that he has to discreetly readjust before anyone can catch him hard as a fucking rock.
That piercing brown gaze locates the private standing against the side of the building a few feet from the door, his face red, his jaw tense, brow wrinkled up as if he is deep in thought about his predicament at having seen something he shouldn’t. The poor boy has no time to react as heavy-booted steps quickly approach before the lieutenant grabs him by the shoulders and pins him to the wall, glaring at him intimidatingly down through the holes of his mask. 
“Let’s get one thing fuckin’ straight, yeah? ‘Fore I let ya go ‘bout your business,” he says, his tone firm and menacing. “I’m only gonna say this once, so ya best listen up. Ya didn’t see a damn thing back there, nothin’ at all, got it private? It’s in your best interest to rid your mind of anything ya think ya might have misunderstood or there will be consequences that ya may not like. Is that clear?”
The private is visibly shaken by his threatening warning and struggles to speak. 
Dropping his voice, the lieutenant leans in. “Is. That. Clear?”
Quickly the private collects himself so that he can answer, if only to be released from the lieutenant’s fury. “Y-yes, s-sir,” he confirms. 
His answer seems satisfactory enough; Lt. Riley is sure his intimidation has done the trick to keep the boy quiet and he gives him a nod of approval. “Now,” the lieutenant says as he releases the scared private and sets him up straight before stepping back, “ya said Price is lookin’ for me? Did he mention what for?” 
“Y-yes sir,” he nods, his voice still shaky, but slowly calming down. “It’s about mission a-assignments.”
“Good man, you’re dismissed.”
With that the private scurries away as fast as he can to leave the lieutenant alone, ready to head towards Price’s office to see what this is all about. He gives one last, lingering glance back at the building, wishing he could just run back inside and pick up where he left off, but he steps off back across base back to where he had just been a little while before. 
As he walks he can’t help but wonder how much time is going to pass before he will get the chance to see you again. Who knows what this round of missions will hold; it could be weeks or months of being separated before you both get another opportunity like this.
With a sigh he heads into Captain Price’s office with no expectations other than the same routine that he is accustomed to: get in, get out, job well done. Yet as the lieutenant sits there listening to Price go into detail about the plans for what will be expected on this mission, he catches something that he thinks he’s misheard.
“Sir,” Lt. Riley cuts Price off in the middle of his thought, “can you repeat that last bit.”
Price raises an eyebrow; it isn’t like his lieutenant to interject like this. “Said since I’m wantin’ ya to take a group of the recruits out, I am sendin’ two sergeants with ya: Mactavish and our esteemed female sergeant that you just presumably saw. Help keep ‘em in line to make sure this isn’t a bust.”
The lieutenant’s heart skips a beat as the captain continues on with the brief synopsis of things that will get hashed out over the next days until departure, but Lt. Riley hears very little. Fuck, this is somehow both better and worse than being apart for any length of time. How the hell is he  supposed to stay sane when in such close proximity to you?
It’s a couple of hours before he is able to get away from under the discerning eyes of the captain, tasked with telling you about this new development in the morning. The thought alone of seeing you again keeps him up for most of the night as he runs over scenarios in his mind. You’re both soldiers highly trained in what you do, taught how to put things aside to focus on the task at hand; it should be fine, right? And yet… his skin still burns to feel yours against it.  
That doesn’t sound like he’ll be fine. He wonders if you’ll be just as miserable too?
The lieutenant decides that it is best to talk to you during your time training the recruits, hopeful that with so many people present it will keep you both tame. He makes his way to the range about midday and as he approaches he catches you in the middle of giving orders to a couple of recruits at the end of the range. Instead of announcing his presence immediately, he allows himself a few seconds just to watch you, his eyes following every curve of your body that he can catch even through your clothes. 
There’s no sign anything is amiss until you notice a few recruits are now distracted and no longer participating in the current activity and you follow their eyeline to see the lieutenant standing not far from the group. He nods his head to you in beckoning to come to him and immediately you can feel the heat in your cheeks blossoming until they are glowing warm. 
What could he want? you wonder to yourself.
Turning back to your bunch of recruits, you give your order so that you won’t be disturbed while you go see what’s up. “Continue on for a few rounds, switching partners every empty clip while I speak with Lt. Riley,” you bark and they immediately fall into line. “And I have my eyes on you so don’t fuck anything up. Got it?” 
A round of yes ma’ams trail behind you as you make your anxious way over to the lieutenant, the rapidly thudding beat of your heart making your steps brisk. Even from here you can see his hands gripping onto the straps of his tactical vest, knuckles almost white, as if he is struggling to stay composed. Your eyes meet as you near and all that intensity comes flooding right back into your body to leave you aching with a need to get closer, though you force yourself to stop with a bit of distance still between you. 
“Yes, sir?” you ask, pausing to swallow to keep your voice steady. “How can I help you?”
“Word from Price,” he answers as his eyes inadvertently begin to gravitate to your mouth before he forcefully guides them away. “Mission assignment for next week. You, Soap, and several of the more seasoned recruits will be with me on recon for a few weeks. Nothin’ too intense, should be an easy enough job.”
“Oh?” you say in stunned surprise as your breath hitches. This is the one thing you hadn’t accounted for being a problem so soon, being stuck together on a mission with all this built-up attraction still so hot and heavy between you. 
Things are about to get a lot harder and you hope you can make it through without incident.
You must be blushing something fierce now as you can feel it burning in your face the more you contemplate your predicament. In the middle of your thought you notice the lieutenant quickly glance at the group of recruits to your back to be sure they are occupied completely as he steps in towards you and reaches up to swiftly stroke his gloved fingers against the side of your cheek before anyone sees him do it. It takes everything in you not to turn into a puddle at his feet from the contact.
As he brings his hand away from your face, he steps in even more and leans his head down until his mouth is near your ear. “I swear I’m gonna remedy this fuckin’ thing between us soon as I can,” he says in a guttural, breathy whisper as he places a quick kiss to your face with his mask-covered lips. “Just hang on a bit longer. You can do that for me, yeah? Just a couple weeks and then you’re mine.”
He doesn’t know why he just did that, it’s too risky to pull off such a stunt in the open like this, but it seems to be an automatic reaction the way any part of his body simply wants to get closer to you. Though he enjoys it, it is a bit unnerving that he can’t seem to control himself when you are around. Clearing his throat, he shifts back into that detached facade to hide behind until he can put some distance between you.
“We will be ready to deploy Tuesday, 1300 hours. Price will send for you to brief on all necessaries,” he says as he stands back upright. “We’ll just have ta fuckin’ try and keep this under control, yeah?”
You nod silently.
Having finished relaying the information he hurriedly exits, leaving you alone to collect yourself so that you can get through the rest of your day, but that is a monumental task in itself now. If this is the reaction you both have whenever you’re near, what will the weeks you’ll be stuck together bring? You hope you can deflect your thoughts away from all this by staying even busier than usual.   
The days leading up to departure are a haze as you try to reconcile that you are going to have to share space with Simon. You fill every single second with any task you can pull, just trying to keep your mind away from the inevitable for as long as possible. Maybe if you never stop, you’ll never have the chance to pine for him; it’s not your best plan, but it works for a few days.
Departure day finally arrives and you immediately are put to the test. As the team loads onto the transport plane meant to take you most of the way, you find yourself the last to board and wouldn’t you know that the only seat available to you is right next to the lieutenant himself. Those brown eyes deep set into that skull mask lock on to you the minute you set foot on board and don’t leave until you take the spot next to him. His body stiffens against you as you get situated in the tight space, matching your body’s reaction. 
God, he wants to touch you so bad it physically hurts, but there isn’t a chance that someone wouldn’t see and so he grits his teeth to try and bear it until you land. Next to him, your heart is fluttering a mile a minute, though you aren’t handling it as well as he is. It is the longest flight you both have ever experienced and it cannot end fast enough. By the time you both exit, you feel like you’ve run a marathon just with how much you had been holding your breath through the whole thing.   
It is a short trek to the safehouse designated for your stay and the team reaches it a few hours before nightfall. A small, rundown house waits for you and that means you’ll be on top of each other, though there’s a shack out back that must have been a tool shed at some point now long since abandoned. Good, maybe you can hide away in there at points when things get too much. 
It’s routine at this point how things go in the field: clearing the area, setting up, breaking down rolls for who does what, which is lucky because your mind is not clear enough to focus on more detailed tasks. How can it be when you’ve spent the last several hours sitting beside the one man in the whole fucking taskforce that you want to screw until neither of you can move? 
You need to put some space between you and soon just to get him out of your head for a while to calm down. Even with how tight you’ll be packed together, it will still be farther than you want to be from him. But thoughts like this are dangerous, so when the time comes to discuss watch duty assignments for the night, you spring at the chance to get outside and speak up before anyone else can take that away from you.
“I’ll take the first watch,” you say just as Johnny poses the question. “I’m still wide awake, so I might as well get it out of the way.”
“Damn, ye sure did answer fast; wanna get away from us that bad, lass?” Johnny jokes, elbowing you in the side. 
You scrunch your nose and bob your head at him, the typical interaction helping you to get out of your thoughts. “Well, yeah, there’s enough b.o. to suffocate someone in here already,” you pick back, “gotta get some fresh air when I can. Now, fucking can it. Anyway, is that all good, sir?”
Turning your attention to your superior, you wait for his reply and see a strange spark flash through the pupils of his eyes. It’s almost too subtle to tell properly whether or not it’s something more than just the shadows cast by his mask playing tricks on your vision, but does it really matter? As much as you want something to happen between you, you are here to do a job and that is top priority for everyone, including and most of all Lt. Riley. 
“That’s fine,” he agrees while diverting his gaze even as he speaks to address the group about setting up for the night, though you can’t help feeling like that is not the real reason he can’t look at you. 
Making sure your area is set up how you want it, you double-check your vest and weapon to be sure you will have everything you need for your watch. You set a timer for the clock on your wrist so you’ll know when you should be relieved and then you decide to get a preliminary sweep of the area to be sure of the lay of the land before it gets completely dark. As you head outside, a flash of lightning ripples through the clouds approaching from the distance; it’s going to be an interesting night, that’s a given.
Lt. Riley secretly follows you with his eyes until he can see you move out of earshot and out the front door, only then does he make his way over to the young Scottish sergeant currently setting up his cot in the corner of the room. This is a fucking terrible idea that the lieutenant should immediately reconsider, but he cannot let this go. Bad idea or not, he is in it now no matter what.
Standing at his back until Soap turns around, the lieutenant doesn’t hesitate to speak up the moment the sergeant faces him. “Informin’ ya now, I’ll be the one takin’ second watch,” he says as flatly as he can, even though there is a pronounced pounding in his chest as he says it.
Soap raises an eyebrow before he crosses his arms with a smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Is that so? Hmm…right after sergeant sass?” he questions curiously as his gaze drifts to the door.
The lieutenant’s eyes narrow into a glare behind the mask. “Ya got a fuckin’ problem with that, Mactavish?” he challenges. “Do I need ta make it more clear who’s in charge here?”
“No, no,” Soap says as he shakes his head, “but… ye know ye don’t have ta go to all this trouble; if ye want some alone time, all ye got ta do is say so.”
A distant rumble of thunder sounds from outside the house to add atmosphere to the death glare that Soap is currently receiving after just having said what he did. “Careful,” the lieutenant warns. Guess any picking is off the table for right now, at least if the sergeant doesn’t want to end up in his superior’s bad graces. 
“Alright, I hear ye. You’re on second watch, sir,” he agrees with a chuckle as another crack of thunder echoes through the darkening sky that can just barely be spotted through the window from where they are standing. Soap draws attention to it with his head and Lt. Riley’s eyeline follows. “Though ye might wanna bring an umbrella later, ye know on account a things possibly gettin’...wet.”
There is something in that last bit that doesn’t sound like Soap’s usual witty remarks, something about the emphasis he puts on the last word is a bit more on the nose, as if he wants to say something about things he shouldn’t, but the moment is gone as Soap continues with setting up his cot and Lt. Riley dismisses it as coincidence. Nothing has happened this far that would give anything away… right?
A few hours pass and everyone has finally hunkered down for the night… Well, everyone except the lieutenant. Try as he might, he cannot relax. His limbs feel jittery as he lays stirring in his cot, staring into the dark as distracting thoughts race through his mind. The more he focuses on them the warmer he gets until he has to roll up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows just to get some relief from it clinging stiflingly around his body. 
It’s still too early for the next watch change, but he can’t just lay here, not when he knows you are right outside the door all alone as everyone is asleep inside. What his plan is he doesn’t fully understand yet, all he can think about right at this moment is just to be near you again. And these types of moments might be the only small chances he will get to even just spend a minute in your company while you’re here.
He gets up and cautiously makes his way through the scattered sleeping team, quiet and careful with his movements until he can make it out the house and into the cooler weather of a gathering storm about to break. The rolls of quiet, distant thunder are more frequent now as he shuts the door behind him, the first drops of precipitation starting to sprinkle over the skin of his bare forearms as he goes in search of you.
Barely getting far, the crunching sound of boot steps are headed his way and he waits on baited breath as you round the corner from the back of the house to return to the spot that you’ve designated at the front for you to sit until your watch ends. Your sight catches a figure standing there in the darkness as you approach, silhouetted by the dim moonlight; by the size of the shadow you instantly know who it is and your heart leaps into your throat. 
“All clear?” he asks as you come to stop before him.
“Si..sir,” you go to address him, but a momentary lapse makes you stumble over his title as you almost say his name, though you quickly recover. 
Simon chuckles; by your reaction it seems like you’ve been thinking of distracting things as well. Guess that means he isn’t the only one suffering. “We’re alone,” he reassures. “Everyone else’s asleep.”
You nod in acknowledgement. “I was just checking the perimeter and the shed,” you say as you point to the small shack out back behind the house. “Still empty. I have a clear view of it from here so I’d know if anything got in there, but I like to be thorough. Everything else is all clear, though.” 
It feels like you are rambling just to stall asking the question you desperately want to ask: why is he out here right now. It couldn’t be that he wants…? No, it is already understood that anything between you is put on hold until later; this must be something else and you chastise yourself internally for getting so worked up over nothing. 
As nonchalantly as possible, you bring up your curiosity. “So, what’re you doing up right now? It’s not time for anyone to relieve me yet.”
His stance shifts. “I know,” he says plainly.
“I-is something wrong?” you continue your line of questions. “I haven’t heard anything inside or out.”
Simon pauses as another rumble of thunder fills the background through the light percussive sound of raindrops trickling around you. “Ya know why I’m out here,” he says quieter, unsure if he even should admit it. “I had ta see ya.” 
An ache slowly spreads through your chest at his words, your heartbeat pounding, the air not filling up your lungs as you watch him take a few steps so that he can reach out to you and take your hand in his gloved one. He leads you both back around the corner of the house a little further from the entrance to conceal you against the side and out away from any prying eyes. 
The light sprinkling picks up as a ripple of lightning flashes across the sky so that the shadows it causes dance across your features. Water begins to stream down over your bodies, coating you in a layer of dampness that soaks through your clothes, your hair, over your skin until everything is moist. It doesn’t take much for Simon’s balaclava to quickly collect too much water for him to stay comfortably underneath it and so without hesitation he takes it off to tuck it into the back pocket of his pants.
He doesn’t mind keeping it off, not around you.
There it is, that face that you have been longing to get a better look at: those beautifully distinct chiseled features with their slight imperfections caused from injuries past. He truly is a fantastic sight, though you may very well be biased now as it wouldn’t have mattered what he had hidden under there, the way you feel around him is attractive enough; this is only a bonus. 
You want to reach out and run your fingers along his cheek, but you know it’s risky. It’s been hard enough being here with him already without making contact; you know if you’re not careful with yourself you might not be able to stop and that could risk putting him in a position he doesn’t want to be in yet. 
But as you both stand there in the silent company of the other trying to find the words, he moves first.
His gloved fingers travel across the skin of your forearm, stroking it up and down as he holds your gaze captive. “Ya know, every single fuckin’ time someone’s said your name on the way out ‘ere, all I can think ‘bout is how I wanna feel ya against me again,” he confesses in hushed murmurs. “Been strugglin’ like hell to hold it all together for the sake of tha mission, but it’s only gettin’ worse. I can’t do it tonight.”
You swallow to coat your dry throat as his lustful words nearly choke you. “Simon,” you whisper in a dreamlike stupor. “What are you doing?”
The pads of his fingers glide determinedly across your palm and down to the sensitive tips of your own fingers.“I need ya,” he says through a heavy sigh. “I need ya so fuckin’ bad, luv.”
What’s breathing and how do you do it again? How in the hell are you meant to hold it together and do your job with desperate words like those being spoken to you in such an aching way? Is this all some sort of punishment? If Simon meant to come out here to torture you, then he has succeeded perfectly.  
“I need ya however I can get ya; I’ll fuck ya in the goddamn dirt if ya want,” he continues as his touch leaves your hand and moves to tease around the top edge of your belt situated between your vest and your shirt. “Just can’t stay away from ya a fuckin’ second more. Gotta make good on my promise ‘fore it eats me alive.”
Your eyes turn to the front of the safehouse as if expecting someone to come popping out at any moment to interrupt this clandestine meeting. “What about the others?” you question as your attention is turned back to him. “We could get caught. You know our track record.”
“I don’t care,” he says firmly as he leans in until his face is inches from your own. “We’ve fuckin’ waited long enough for this. I need ta be inside ya, sweetheart.” 
Being this close with all this moisture coating you both head to toe, blood pressure rising with the agony of his words, skin aching from the proximity of your bodies, it’s too much. You are burrowed into his mind completely now and try as he might to keep sane, your venom is already flowing through his veins. He cannot stand here and simply take it anymore. Those full lips that are so tempting from afar, are unbearable when within range; if you want this to stop you are going to have to be the one to leave because he won’t.
“But if ya don’t wanna do this, you’re gonna have ta walk right back inside that fuckin’ house this second ‘cause I’m not gonna be able to control myself for much longer,” he says, that gravelly voice overflowing with need. “Not with how your lips are callin’ my name.”
The overwhelming tension radiating between your bodies, that steamy, sticky, air that clings to you even through the rain suffocates your every sense until you can’t see straight. The darkness surrounds you like a curtain, concealing you from the world in its protective barrier that is only cut through by the pale moonlight drifting through the clouds to make the rain shimmer like 
crystals as it falls. 
At the back of the safehouse, there is only you and him. Everything else ceases to exist. 
You stare back up into his face, watching as droplets of rain cascade down one by one off the tips of his long eyelashes and the ends of his short, pale hair to fall onto his cheeks and through the dark stubble covering his jawline. The tension is so stifling that it feels like it will suffocate you under the pressure. You don’t want him to remove his fingertips from your frame; he knows just how to embrace your body in a way you have never felt before and you’ve never been more alive than you are under his touch.
With a little hesitation your subconscious makes the choice for you about what to do next and you lower your gaze as the overwhelming need to reach out to him causes you to extend your arm without thinking. Your fingers make contact with his damp clothes and run the lines along his hip bones as they explore the curvature of his body where the wet fabric clings to his form. 
A sharp, sudden exhale out of his nose is followed by a deep, bassy groan. Even over his clothes the electricity of your touch sends him into a tailspin. Your movements betray your innermost thoughts to him, but still he needs you to use your words and say it aloud. He watches as your eyes follow the path of your fingers over him and uses the opportunity to take off his gloves and stuff them away in his vest so that he can feel you as he goes in.
Your gaze drifts back up his body to look into his eyes as his balmy, moist palm is placed at the base of the back of your head, his thumb resting against your cheek. “Tell me what ya want,” he says.
Melting into his touch, your lips form the words effortlessly before you can even stop yourself. “Kiss me.” 
Oxygen disappears as he leans in so that there is barely any space left between you, his mouth so close you can feel the warmth of his breath make the skin of your lips tingle and suddenly every thought outside of the ecstasy of this moment evaporates. There is no mission, there are no other soldiers here mere feet from you, there are only the two of you in a world of your own. With a few deep, jagged breaths his gaze locks to your lips and you feel him hesitantly go in and pull back before his mouth closes the distance to overtake yours in a fierce kiss.
And your fate is sealed.
The cool precipitation runs down between your faces to make your mouths slick, causing your lips to glide across one another as Simon desperately overpowers your mouth. He is relentless in the way he consumes your kiss; no sooner has he broken the connection to quickly swallow down air then in the next second he is already back in as if he needs to feel you more than he needs to breathe. 
Wet strands of hair around your face stick to your cheeks as he presses his features into yours so hard that you can’t catch your breath and the skin around your jaw stings from the abrasion of his stubble. Yet all that moisture is doing nothing to dampen the way you are burning for him; you need to see what happens if given the chance to go all the way. 
“Say ya need me too,” he groans against your lips and into your open mouth. “I have ta hear it. Say ya need me ta fuck ya good, that you’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout me all this time. Goddammit, say it.”
“I need you so fucking bad, Simon,” you whimper. “So bad it hurts. I can’t take it anymore.”
Your desperate words make him ache with an overwhelming ferocity that causes him to lose control. He shoves your back into the wall behind you and pins you to it as he bombards your mouth with his unrelenting passion, open-mouthed kisses overtaking your lips until you can feel them swell and burn from the pressure.
“Christ, I wanna make ya come so fuckin’ bad,” he growls. 
“Please,” you beg, giving into him completely. “I can’t wait. Not again.” 
You’re right, no waiting, not this time; he is not giving anything or anyone the chance to ruin this. The beast of his desire has him in a chokehold so agonizing that it will not let him go until he gets exactly what he needs, what you both need, until he completely loses himself in you. Some place hidden is what he desperately has to find now.
The shed is only a few yards away and his kiss-drunk mind makes the instant decision that it will have to do. At least you will have some privacy out of the rain; that is enough. As long as he gets inside you that is all he can ask for. 
“Come on,” Simon is able to get out as he grabs your hand tightly in his grip and starts to walk in long strides straight for the tiny shack just off the main house. You reach it in no time and he doesn’t stop as he flings open the door and pulls you inside behind him, leaving you to stand in the middle of the small space as he scrambles to block the door; there isn’t a chance in hell anyone is going to get to you both now.  
Not until he has had his way with you.
It physically pains him to be away from your lips for this long as he makes sure everything is secure, but it’s gotta be done. Once satisfied and not wanting to waste any more time away from your body, he moves right back into you and his mouth is crashing onto yours before you can blink. Its inherent, primal, a reaction as innate as breathing the way his lips know the exact way to embrace yours in that dance of back and forth as if you’ve done it for years.
To think he would have never gotten the chance to experience them had it not been for Mactavish’s idiotic game. Fuck, how could something so inconsequential lead to something so explosive that it is the only thing he craves above anything else?
Those determined hands of his paw blindly between your bodies, searching for the tabs at the sides of your tactical vest so that he can pull them to release it; there are more layers he has to get through this time. He breaks away from you so that he can flip the front of your vest over your head and throw it off your torso. Before it even hits the wooden floorboards he is hurriedly doing the same to himself, taking his shirt with it, before capturing your lips all over again; he will not stay away if he can help it and those pauses as he undresses you will be filled with him devouring your kiss.     
His fingers fill themselves with your shirt, clawing at it desperately trying to rip the wet fabric from your form without a care if he tears it to fucking shreds. The rough calluses on his hands create delicious friction along all that soft skin of your stomach as he goes up and under to rip both it and your bra off your head, making you gasp mutedly into his mouth. 
Pausing he can’t help staring at all this new, warm skin at his disposal. The nipples on your breasts are already hardening as they hit the cool atmosphere outside your clothes and he runs a greedy finger over the tiny rosebuds to feel them stiffen more from his touch. You are absolute in your perfection, a sight of sinfully decadent flesh that his mouth wants to get a hold of.
Strong arms wrap around your lower back to keep you locked to him as he bends his head down until his face reaches your breasts and he can bury himself against them so his lips can suck your nipple into his mouth. The moment his lips touch skin you arch your back with a shocked moan at how the suction sends waves of euphoria flooding through your limbs that only builds the longer he sucks. 
“Don’t stop,” you plead. 
Under his touch it feels just like heaven; there cannot be anything better than this. 
“Not this time, not till I fuckin’ make ya come,” he reassures in a husky, muted growl with his mouth full of you before he switches to the other breast, leaving neither out of their overdue pleasure. “You’re mine tonight. Ya hear me: mine.” 
The stubble on his chin pricks against the delicate skin of your breasts as he devours them, taking as much of the tissue into his mouth as he can hold as his tongue skillfully strokes around the areolas. All those contradicting sensations only add to the stimulation until your hips grind into him for the friction to relieve the pulsing in your clit. 
Heavy rain pelts down against the roof over your heads to drown out the sounds of your arousal; he needs to experience them all and so he has to get you closer. There are things he wants to say, dirty things he has fantasized about growling into your ear since that night when this whole fucking thing started and as his fingers itch to play with your pussy, he knows the way to make it all happen exactly as he wants.
Pulling his mouth from your chest, he moves from against you to situate himself sitting on the ground. Quickly he grabs onto your hips to spin you around so that he can promptly pull you down to sit in the middle of his lap. That throbbing bulge barely being contained by his pants is straining even harder now that there is pressure over it and you can feel it pulse into the muscle of your ass as your back molds into the contours of his broad chest and sparsely hair-covered abdomen.
You lean your head back against his shoulder as you enjoy the feeling of being wrapped up in him and he takes that as an invitation to lay more of his claim to your skin. All that gorgeous flesh of your neck is ready to be sucked and bitten till he has branded it with his mark. Taking your chin in his hand, he moves your head out of the way and immediately pounces on it. 
“Goddammit sweetheart, I’ve been in fuckin’ hell since even before we got ‘ere,” he murmurs in anguish into your throat, his heat-filled words warming your skin as his breath drifts down your exposed chest. “Thought I was gonna rip myself apart bein’ forced to only look and not touch. I’ve never wanted to feel someone more in my whole goddamn life than I do ya.”
His hands slip down your chest, drawing goosebumps from your bare body everywhere his fingertips grace until your mind is so numb you can’t feel your limbs; your body only exists in the places where he decides to touch. The poetry of his fingers leaves all those unspoken desires he has yet to fully acknowledge across your skin, searing the flesh until it is branded for him and him alone. His roughness makes you whimper open-mouthed into the air. Down the sides of your waist his hands travel, over your hips to cross in front of your belly button and finally his hand reaches your pants. 
“Been thinkin’ ‘bout your body in the worst fuckin’ ways,” he says with a growl. “You’ve been in my goddamn head since that first kiss. Never thought I could crave somethin’ so fuckin’ bad that I can’t let it go and I want to make ya to feel the same. I want ya so out of your fuckin’ mind from me that ya can’t function.” 
Undoing the belt buckle and button, he pulls down the zipper of your pants with feverish speed until he creates an opening that he can slip his hand into. Once inside he keeps going all the way down to the elastic that he has to fiddle with to get inside your panties. You let your knees fall open to give him more access as he finally reaches that sensitive mound between your thighs. He can feel just how warm you are, the damp heat radiating off your cunt and into his palm as he cups his hand up against your sex.
Your back jolts into his chest at the intense pressure. “Fuck,” he gasps into the crook of your neck. “There ya are, pretty girl. Goddammit, your pussy feels so fuckin’ good.”
His chest is tightening with his rapid breathing as he takes his middle finger to heavily drag over the slit of your cunt until he pushes through and it slips in between your silky petals right to your core. Again your body jolts into him as those thick fingers rub through the sensitive slit and then up so he can find what he is searching for: that small bundle he wants to stroke until you are dripping and grinding on his fingers. 
He can’t help himself once he gets his first real feel of how slick you are down there; it’s more beautiful than he could have ever imagined and brutishly he draws out concise circles with the pad of his finger on your clit. The heightened tension of this finally being the moment you have waited for, being with the man that has made you a mess without even trying, and the way his fingers work that tiny pleasure center like he owns it only makes the euphoria more intense. 
You are drowning in him.  
Your body writhes and squirms as his thick finger suddenly collects a friend to join it and they both travel together to your entrance to spread you open so they can slide up inside and stretch you out. Your hips start to roll over his hand in direct response to his stimulation, grinding so he has to keep an arm around your waist to keep you from bucking off his lap, but it is worth it just to feel the way your body moves against him.
“That’s it, ride ‘em, pretty thing,” he groans at the side of your head. You could almost hear it in his voice how much he is enjoying the sounds of you falling apart because of him.
That deep, permeating warmth gathering in your abdomen begins to spread throughout your entire form, its mind-numbing effects making it hard to speak, yet it isn’t enough. His fingers have taken you almost all the way, but you need him, need his cock filling you up and you need it now.
“Simon, fuck… please put it in,” you say breathlessly. “I want you in me. Now. God, I need it so fucking bad.”
Fucking hell, the desperate whine in your voice is enough to make him come. The moment is here and there is no chance that he is going to be able to do anything other than immediately grant your request after all the pining, all the tension you’ve had to struggle through. All of it comes to a head here and now.
“I’ve been fuckin’ dreamin’ of doin’ this,” he says as he helps you slip out of your boots and pants so that you sit there naked as you wait for him to do the same. “If we would’ve been alone in the rec that night… goddammit, your pussy would already know the way my cock feels, sweetheart.”
As soon as he’s done he pulls you back, turns you to face him, and helps you up onto your knees so you can straddle over his lap. Even through the haze of ecstasy, your sight catches the first glimpse of his body and you can’t stop the way your hands immediately splay over the sparse bit of hair covering his broad chest and stocky abdomen, trailing down towards his V line. Then you see it, what’s been prodding against you all this time; fuck, he’s big.
As your fingers run between the pectorals on his stomach, you can feel the moment his breath hitches. You will be the death of him and him you.
Your eyes meet again and he secures his hands around the curves of your hips. Here it is, the moment of no return. Time seems to stand still as you feel him position the fat tip of his cock at your entrance. 
“Breathe for me,” he says and with that he slowly shoves your hips down until the head is able to slip inside.
The girth of his phallus stretches you out as it fills you and the world falls away into nothingness as you cry out with the pleasure of his body as he keeps pressing down on your hips until the entirety of him rests inside you. It is overwhelming, the sensation that takes a hold of your soul and doesn’t let go, the one of finally having him. Try as you might to not let this get out of hand, you know it is already too late. Nothing, absolutely nothing in this whole fucking world can ever compare to the way your body feels wrapped around his cock: the glorious stretch, the fullness, the throbing that you can feel pulse inside you. 
And from the sounds Simon is now making, you know he feels the same.
“Oh fuck…oh fuck,” that deep agonized whimper echoes through the shed as Simon’s hands bear down hard into your hips so he can keep you still until he can steady himself. His head falls against your forehead where it rests. “…s-shit…so fuckin’ good, luv.”
As he moves your body slowly up and down over his lap, making you bounce on his cock, he realizes that he will not be the same after this. Christ, you are the worst type of addiction; no matter how much he gets he only wants more. Simon is inside of you and yet even that isn’t enough. He wants to fuck you to the point of ruin, so that you will be his and only his from this day forward because there is no coming out of this unscathed.
Even within the first few minutes of being inside you he is already pussy drunk off how beautifully your walls contour to his shape, holding him fixed in all that warmth and wetness, and that leaves him unable to take things slow. Without warning Simon tilts you both back slightly so that he can take over and fuck you even rougher now. 
His fingers grip into the muscles of your hips hard enough to leave purple fingerprints as he pounds up into you furiously. Your body shakes with each snap of his hips as he slams into you with a feral roughness that his brain forces on him as he can only think of one objective: for you both to come.
“Look at me,” he demands through ragged breaths as he grabs at your face with those large hands; he’s falling apart so fast now, “keep those pretty eyes on me. I need… shit…I need ta see what they look like the moment ya come. My fuckin’ pretty girl.”
The rain that had coated your bodies moments before almost turns into steam as the passion of his movements fill the air with so much heat. You are completely at his mercy, his hulking size overwhelming you so that he can do with you as he pleases, but the way he thrusts deeper and deeper only draws you closer to that razor’s edge; it’s approaching fast.
“Fuck, don’t stop Simon, please, I’m so close,” you plead through your panting, your toes curling into the floor as the stimulation makes your brain blank. It’s there, right there; just a bit more and you will fall over the precipice.
He pumps with everything in him and that is it; with a shudder your orgasm rockets through you fiery hot, making your body writhe in his grasp as you cry out and a loud clap of thunder rings through the heavens to drown out the sound. You try to fall against him, but he won’t let you. That firm grip keeps your head up so that his eyes can take in everything about the moment as it crosses your face and fuck is it beautiful.
God, it won’t stop, second after second your orgasm just keeps pulsing with relentless intensity and Simon isn’t letting up. He can’t, he’s so fucking close he can taste it. Shit, the way your engorged walls are fluttering something fierce he just needs a little more friction and he’ll come too.
Bringing your face in he takes your mouth with all the roughness he has left as he allows himself to let go and with a few more thrusts, that is it. At the last second he rips his cock out of you and nestles it between your bodies as he milks out all that warm cum along your stomach, coating you with all that pent up tension he has been holding on to all this time. His abdominal muscles contract hard, heart pounding out of his chest, body writhing as a shiver runs up his spine until his movements finally slow and he stops, completely spent. 
Rain slacks off as you both just sit there a moment, panting to catch your breath as he holds you securely wrapped in his arms, face still close as if he only ever wants to breathe the same air you breathe, his nose nuzzling against yours as his lips fight to stay off of you long enough that you can both settle. It takes a few minutes, but finally he can feel his limbs again.
Just then the alarm on your watch begins its high-pitched beeping to signal that your relief is meant to take your place on guard duty. You laugh under your breath as it seems it’s now your opportunity to say those fucking words that seem to be the signal of the end of your time together. 
“Times up,” you say quietly, but he just shakes his head.  
“You’re not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart,” he replies firmly as his arms tighten around your form, “not yet. You’re still mine for now, I’ll deal with tha rest ‘a the shit later. I’m not lettin’ ya leave me.”
There’s no way you are going to fight him on it; you want to stay here with him a little while longer as well. Leaning in, you rest your head against his chest to listen to the beat of his heart as it continues to slow with each deep breath. As he sits there bundled up with you in that glowing euphoria as you both come down from the high, he knows this is only the beginning of something that he cannot stop. 
And maybe for the first time in his life, he doesn’t want it to.
Tagging: @kirewinter @spooky-pomegranate @heliumshorns @mudisgranapat @konigs-left-pec @dragonstoneshortcake @cum-tea-and-towels @scaleniusrm @cod-z @shadowydestinylover
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workingwhileidream · 5 months
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Okay Burrow's End had me thinking some thoughts... So here are my favorite Dimension 20 moments that rotate like a rotisserie chicken in my brain (in no particular order other than the order I thought if them).
- Riz goes into the butthole of the Corn Ooze Monster (Fantasy High). The first absolutely insane shenanigans move anyone makes on D20, setting the tone the show will have forever.
- Raphaniel kills Queen Pamelia (Ravening War). I think I saw Brennan's soul leave his body briefly when he got that How Do You Want To Do This from Matt. Time was an absolute flat circle that day.
- Hank convinces Brennan to let him role savvy instead of sneak (Mentopolis). Hank is one of the most famous content creators, having him on the show was phenomenal to begin with. Then right out of the gate, he pulls this move in his first episode. And it just works. Hilarious, instantly iconic.
- Jet Dies (A Crown of Candy). When Lapin dies, it is shocking but I wasn't attached to him as a character. Lapin was a bit antagonistic and his death happens early in the season. On the other hand, Jet is instantly likeable. Emily and Siobhan are amazing as siblings, their performances this campaign are some of my favorites. I have siblings and I am very close to them, so this hit me like a ton of bricks.
- The entire epilogue of Burrow's End. "Are you pitching and Air Bud ending?" is one of the instant hall of fame quotes from this show. I started crying I was laughing so hard.
- Ylfa's bottleneck and the TPK (Neverafter). There are so many close calls for total party kills in Dimension 20 history, but this is where it finally happens and it's only 3 episodes in. I was on edge, expecting another TPK at any turn, for the rest of the campaign.
- 3 nat one initiative rolls for the battle that literally opens the season (A Starstruck Odyssey). The beginning of a new season is always full of excitement. This season was extra special, having everyone back in the dome after the pandemic and the season being based off Brennan's Mom's comics. The zoom energy is still in the air and I still think about this season opener a lot.
- Mother Timothy Goose breaks Snow White's concentration with a cantrip (Neverafter). Only Ally Beardsley could and we all damn well know it. Still didn't stop me from being so far in disbelief that all I could do is laugh.
- Hob's "You will never know another lonely day" speech to Rue (A Court of Fey and Flowers). I will still cry about this if I think about it for too long. Rue and Hob's romance is the heart of this season to me. I won't be over it ever.
- Gertrude convinces Nyruth to give the Questing Queens very powerful boons after the Queens tried to rob them only a few hours earlier (Dungeons and Drag Queens). The fact that this season exists drives a level of serotonin into my brain that is unimaginable. This is the definition of a big swing and when Bob rolls well, Brennan has no other choice than to honor it. This is one of the moments I have made a meme of. I cannot wait for season 2.
- Wuuvy shows up to the duel and she did not come to play (A Court of Fey and Flowers). Aabria has talked about how Wuuvy is one of her favorite NPCs and I feel the same. Wuuvy and Rue's relationship has such a great arc and this moment is so pivotal.
- Fabian's no good very bad day (Fantasy High Sophomore Year). An iconic moment in D20 history that was truly wild to watch live. For everything to go so fantastically bad for Fabian and Lou was unprecedented. There is a reason why people still talk about this moment to this day.
- Amathar survives being pushed off the castle (A Crown of Candy). Brennan tried to kill Lou so many times in this campaign. I really thought Brennan had gotten him with this one, my stomach sunk. But Lou pulls it out and Amathar lives once again.
- Pib plays "Smoke on the Water" (Neverafter). "I stepped out to play 'Smoke on the Water' " is also a hall of fame quote to me. This list could be all Pib moments if I'm being honest, he's my favorite Zac character. And the fact that Zac doesn't roll well makes this moment funnier to me.
- Buddy Bear gets planted with the All Blossom (Dungeons and Drag Queens). Jujubee and Brennan owe me a therapy session for this one. I sobbed. My cat is my baby and I will be ruined the day she leaves me, so I get it. I really do.
- "Eat your dice, Brennan" (Fantasy High Sophomore Year). A great bit made physically possible by Siobhan. I hope Siobhan gives him gummy dice or something like that so that Brennan can continue to eat his dice for Junior Year.
- Orange Top Hat Fairy (Neverafter). It's a horror season and the cast is doing bits about how hot a mini is the entire finale and the Adventuring Party that followed. I felt the stress and off the walls energy through the screen. The Smooth Criminal pin was the first piece of Dimension 20 merch I bought.
- Viola's epic takedown of Phoebe (Burrow's End). Watching Rashawn absolutely crush it her first time in the dome was amazing. I loved Viola from the jump, her arc was so satisfying and fun to watch. Also the idea of a tiny stoat kicking a gun just the right way to get it to fire is hilarious. No notes other than please have Rashawn come back on every season she possibly can.
- Evan Kelmp warns the Rosemont student not to duel him (Misfits and Magic). Brennan's deadpan warning matched with the reactions of the other players and Aabria really make this scene. An underrated Brennan moment for sure.
- Stacey Fakename turns out to be real (Mentopolis). This was such a good reoccurring bit, so to have Stacey be real at the end of the story was too funny. In a season of bits, tropes, and puns - this one has the most payoff to me and is definitely my favorite.
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writersdrug · 10 days
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Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 2
<- Previous - Next ->
Warnings: light cursing, light nsfw, Simon being the tiniest bit of a creep
A/N: so originally this was just a fluffy thought I had a few weeks ago... it's slowly turning into a longer, multi-chapter series, and Simon is a bit darker than I had intended him to be... but the story is still going to stay relatively normal (there will be full NSFW further down the line, lol)!
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Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.
here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.
Simon.
You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.
Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!
Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?
See you soon!
You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.
So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.
Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.
she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.
Simon.
You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.
You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.
Understood. Thanks again!
--------------
"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.
You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.
You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?
"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."
You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.
"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."
You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"
Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"
"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.
He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."
You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"
Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.
He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.
But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.
"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."
"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."
He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...
He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.
You faltered. "Sorry...?"
"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"
You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.
"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.
He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.
"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.
"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.
"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"
He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."
Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.
"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.
Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.
He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.
But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?
He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-
Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.
Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."
He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.
He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.
Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.
------------
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oddinarylani · 7 months
Text
'i wish you'd just care about me' arranged marriage skz.
pt 1: chan, lee know, changbin, and hyunjin.
w: blood, violence in changbin's
pt 2 is ⇀ here
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𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷.↴
it wasn’t the best of circumstances. no. the day you were bathed in white, promised to a man, and walked down the aisle by your father to be given to the hands of your husband was one you spent in mourning, swallowed by grief. “i bet you’re so excited, yeah?” the makeup artist asked, brushing a pearly shade of pinkish red onto your lips. she had a soft genuine smile as she asked, surfacing you into reality from the fogginess in your head. you nod, once, “yes, i am.” you lie in an attempt to make conversation easy. most of the guests that day knew of the arrangement, but other’s hadn’t a clue - which made appearances dire to keep up with. part of you was pleased to move onto a new chapter in your life if it meant moving on from life with your parents. but the other part reminded you that you were going into a new marriage completely blind to the man you’d call your husband. you met him one singular time before changing your last name, the entirety of it was spent with your parents talking to his own - glances you cast in his direction, if only to study the face of the man you hoped to love one day. 
his jaw was set coldly, eyes focused on the conversation shared between your parents. he was handsome but just stone. was anything there? you would wonder. is there a man beneath that face? the bone beneath his skin rippled in tender structure, ears pierced, nose rounded, and a heart-like shape to his mouth. while there was no longer hope to hold out for, you scrounged up a bit more in the depths of your chest in desire to love him one day. truly love him. and to be loved in return. 
two months into your marriage and you still feel the brick wall dividing you from your husband. it wasn’t exhausting all the time, no. you saw him smile; a few times actually. sometimes you think of it when going to sleep. you hadn’t heard him truly laugh, but you still maintained that same hope from the first time you ever saw him that one day you’d be the reason for him to. your new routine as husband and wife took a minute to settle into; with chan slowly rising to ranks of his family’s company and your own growth in the business of your own. your days were spent at home in your office working from home, a lot of calls into business meetings that you kept your mic muted for, and phone calls to overseas clientele for holiday season. 
chan would wake in the morning and rise from your shared bed quick to get ready for work, leaving you to fix coffee and shrug on a robe in the cold of your home (winters weren’t kind in the mornings) when he’d leave, you’d have a cup ready for him, cream and a sugar cube. “thank you, have a good day.” he’d wish, already halfway out the door with a small tired smile on his face. “you’re welcome, you too,” you’d say, scrolling through your phone as the door would shut. 
he’d take little notice to your attempts at growing your relationship, and you hadn’t had the time to bring it up to him yet that you wanted to try to have a wonderful marriage. you’d step into the living room wearing a new dress for a banquet for the company, smile a bit wider and brighter than usual - he’d look up from the couch, phone still in hand and would give you a thin lipped smile. “you look nice.” you’d rent a movie, one he’d said he’d wanted to watch soon, and welcome him home with drinks by the couch and he’d brush it off, “ah, sorry. i have a company thing tonight. tomorrow maybe?” of course, he’d forget the next day anyway so it would all be for nothing. when he’d come home extra late and you’d be in bed, buddled in pjs in the comforter with a book and the lamp on next to you, you’d muster your best smile and set your book down. “hey, how was work?” he’d sigh, pulling the tie from his neck. “nothing new really.”
and then you’d beg yourself, beg yourself, to just answer the question of why were you in love with him? 
maybe it was for all the times you’d get to see him smile, the chuckles as you’d watch a movie, the thank you’s for cooking, and everything in between. maybe you loved him for the way he stumbled into the kitchen almost late for work, his hair a bit messy and his tie disoriented and you stopped him - “wait,” you put a hand up, walking up to him to fix his tie. it was the closest you’d ever been to him besides the day you’d gotten married, you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. “sorry, my hands are cold.” your voice still laced with sleep as you straightened his tie and flattened his hair. “i-it’s okay.” he assured, clearing his throat. “eat some on your way to work, coffee’s on the counter. have a good day, okay?” you push a few pieces of toast wrapped in a napkin into his hands, pointing to his coffee before turning back to the stove. “r-right. thank you, have a good day.”
that was pretty cute. you even for a moment thought there’d be hope for you, as his cheeks flushed pink when you started working on his tie. sitting at your desk in your office you’d smile at the thought before catching yourself and smacking your own cheeks. 
but time was catching up with you, and the unbearable ache of loving him was almost too much for your heart to handle. you at least needed to know if he felt the same or if he ever could - but in the following days after your realization, you proved yourself right. there was no way. no way this could work out. a steady stream of emotion was constantly running through you; you couldn’t focus on work, you couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat - and you wondered if he even noticed. you were growing increasingly frustrated with chan, and every passing day of limited conversation, barely any eye contact, and virtually no response from chan was wearing you down. one second you were smitten, and the other you were pissed. 
and it eventually all came to a halt. 
the front door of your house shut loudly, louder than usual. and you had a sneaking suspicion chan hadn’t the best day at work. well. that was a shame - you were still pissed, and to think he had the audacity to come home angry from work when he could barely prove to be a communicative partner was enough to leave your blood boiling. you’d let him have it if given the chance. 
“how was work.” it wasn’t so much a question as much as a routine statement. you sat on the couch, shuffling through your movies to find the one he’d been wanting to watch, which upon realization, you didn’t know why you did that when you were pissed at him. 
“fine.” he stomps into your shared bedroom, yanking the tie from his throat as he did so. you roll your eyes and keep shuffling with a much heavier hand this time. when he re-emerges from the bedroom, he’s shed his tie but still has on his button-down and suit jacket on, you furrow your brows and sit up from the couch. 
“what’s wrong? what happened?” you ask out of the goodness of your heart. he tosses open the fridge, sighing. “nothing. nothing happened.”
“you wanna watch that movie you said you wanted to see?” he runs his hands over his face, closing the fridge door. he looks for a moment as if he’s thinking, his hands on his hips as he swallows. “no. not tonight.” he finishes, beginning to walk out of the kitchen before you stand.
“i really really wish you just cared for me.”
it was quiet, quiet, when you said it. the words left your lips before you could realize that your vision was getting a bit glossy. he freezes in his tracks, whipping his vision towards you at the sound of your voice. there wasn’t venom to your words like you expected there would be, no. just defeat. chan hears it, he hears it in you and all of his frustration, his anger, his annoyance, just melts away. instead, his chest is swallowed with guilt. 
“i try,, i try so hard to make this work, chris. i really do.” you wipe your face even though tears haven’t fallen yet, and he thinks it’s to stop them from ever doing so, at least in front of him, and his chest aches. he’s turned to face you now, just six feet away or so, and his brow softens at the sight of you. 
“i cook for you and make you coffee every morning and try renting your favorite movie because you said you wanted to watch it and wear pretty things out to work events and when i go out with friends but,, you don’t,,,” you look at him when you speak, he sees that water building in your eyes and takes a step closer to you, almost wanting to reach out but stopping himself before he’s to do so. your head shakes, you sniff one more time. 
“because that’s what married people do.” this time he does walk closer, you don’t move, but you don’t look him in the eye either - it seems much to hard to do when you’re on the brink of crying. 
“i promised myself,,” you lift a clenched fist to his chest, tapping him once with it, your lips screwing together in frustration though your voice is still soft and tearful. “that as your wife i’d love you one day.” your hand drops from his chest, you wipe your eyes when a single tear spills over your waterline, ducking your head to do so out of his line of sight. “is it too much to ask the same from my husband.”
it’s quiet for a minute, in one way he knows everything to say. every sweet word to soothe over your aching heart, because that’s what he’s suppose to do as your husband, and there’s another part of him that has no clue what to say. 
because what kind of husband is he to leave you feeling as empty as this.
“i told myself on our wedding day that,, i never wanted to be the one to make you cry.” his palms come to cup your cheeks, though his large hands end up swallowing some of your jawline and neck as well. your eyes widen a bit at the feeling, “look at me?” he asks, voice quiet. you do so with guidance from his own hands. “i’m sorry. i’m really sorry.” even he has some water building on his waterline, you notice. you frown, feeling his thumbs dry your under eyes. 
“i never wanted to make you feel uncared for or unheard. i appreciate everything you do for me. and i’m sorry i’ve made you question if i care for you.” he wipes his thumbs under your eyes once more before his hands lower a bit. “you’re my wife. i care about you so much. and i’ll show you that, i promise.” 
you talk for a little longer, but disregard the movie for the night, instead, you settle on curling up beside chris who wraps an arm around you, his cheeks a bit pink as you adjust yourself in his hold. he feels the burn of your own cheeks against his arm. “is this okay?” he asks, his opposite hand settling on your hip. you smile, “of course. i’m your wife, you can touch me. can i touch you?” he hums, scooting closer, giving you the okay to lay your arm across his midsection. you close your eyes for a moment, if only to enjoy the feeling of holding your husband for the first time. the warmth that always seems to naturally radiate off of him, the closeness of his breath, the feeling of being the only woman who gets to see him like this. 
“i didn’t know you were so cuddly, mr. bang.” you smile to yourself, his hand stroking soft over your hip. “only when given the chance, mrs. bang.” he replies. “ooh,, too smooth.” you admire. 
when silence encircles the both of you, and you feel sleepiness begin to creep up on you, he speaks again, “did you mean it when you said you’d learn to love me one day?” his voice is quiet, so tender - it licks at the wounds of your heart and seals them shut. your heart pounds behind your ribcage and you breathe deep to settle the rage of affection steadily brewing in you. “of course.” you reply, your face beginning to bury in his neck. 
“well, that’s a shame.” you furrow your brows, opening your eyes to look up at him. before you can reply he speaks again. “because i love you now.”
 𝓵𝓮𝓮 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀.↴
“the summer berries on the bushels in the forest are getting ripe now, i brought you some.” you lift your basket, both hands wrapped around it’s weak woven handle, showcasing your proud supply of freshly picked goods. you set the basket down a moment later, your husband batting a quick eye to the basket before he looks back to his spread of books a second later. “mm.” is his only reply. 
lee minho was the protector and guide of the largest castle in the northern part of your land. he was a renowned alchemist and practitioner of magic, known for being aid to a handful of people in the village you were raised in, and most notably - a fierce god of night. a vampire. 
it was true the stories of bloodlust and killings that tainted centuries of vampire lore; but lee minho set out to do something different. he hadn’t a care of the human experience, which he shared with that of his ancestors, but he had no need to kill them either. animal blood tasted just as delicious as a human’s. and when befriending a human, their loyalty was like no other. so he didn’t kill them, no, he made pacts and promises, and if anything used them more like pawns but they’d die soon before he did. 
and then there was you. his wife. promised to his hand by your family - a pact of sorts, one of which you both hadn’t necessarily agreed to if it wasn’t for both of your families stepping in to further push along the marriage. in a quiet candlelight scenery you were married to your now husband, and your seal of a kiss was shared. which, honestly, you didn’t regret. he was very handsome - and kissing handsome men was always a joyous occasion (well, mostly anyway) 
he was rageful. not at you, maybe more to existence itself. he was never angry towards you, he never showed it, but you could see deep within the brown wash of his eyes that he was indeed an angry man. he had a hate you’d only seen a few times, and every time you looked a little too hard you felt yourself look away - to anywhere else in the room. afraid of what it meant, afraid of his own distaste. 
“you’re wearing the dress.” he notes. his vision still wondering over the pages in his book. your slightly fallen expression gleams a little at his comment. “yes, of course. you bought it for me.” your hands smooth over your torso, he still doesn’t look up. your lips twist at the sight of your husband’s disinterest, but you turn to wash the berries and leave the room. 
most of your marriage to minho felt like a huge disinterest on his side. he’d lived many years, this much was true. but in your short time to live, you longed for a husband who loved you; and part of you thought minho was largely incapable of this. he never showed it. he never showed anything for that matter; he was always so far away. life not only was nonexistent to him as a man, but in his very eyes. he showed not a shred of emotion, and even in your good memories with him, he showed very little. part of you blamed it on his years of living, but yet the other part of you reminded you it was all the more reason to care. every day felt like a slow drag, you weren’t really living, not really. survival maybe. but being bound to this castle with a man who rarely payed you mind left an ache worse than death. were you not to his standards? maybe that was it. 
you’d shed too many tears over the situation, now every time you cry you try to pull yourself together in the face of your grief. upon talking to your family, a few members reminded you that your voice was powerful, and you should very much share your opinions to him on the matter if your marriage was to work - but that was the thing. a few months in with the man you were to learn to love, and you felt even now it was helpless. it was a sting that brought you to your knees, god how you wanted to just tell him. tell him you loved him - and hear it from his own mouth. 
upon your ravage of feelings and your family’s request, you resorted to writing a letter to your husband. you surely wouldn’t have the guts to face this powerful man in person, not like this. so you took to beginning your note in scribbles in the isolated space of your bedroom. 
your lips twitch in thought as you think over the contents of your letter, your hand stilling still quipped with a quill. you’re swallowed with silence in the stillness of your bedroom, word after word is brought to the front of your brain. there’s a number of things you could say, but not enough words in the world to describe how you felt. 
“lee minho, i’m unhappy.” you speak aloud as you write, taking a moment to look back at your writing, quickly scribbling the line out before starting again. 
“dear husband, i have a few things to bring to your attention.” you nod along as you write, happier with this line. 
“i believe if we’re to work as husband and wife, we should talk more.”
“i try time and time again to gain your attention, to bring you happiness in a way i know how.”
“but,, it seems to never be enough.”
“if you don’t want me,” you pause, your fingers fumble with the quill in your hand as your palms begin to warm against the hardwood. your lips twitch again.
against all things in your brain reminding you a married couple should speak of their issues and this was a must in your relationship if either of you wish to continue - an overwhelming feeling of pure grief washes over you and your hand as you still to keep from writing. 
every bright moment in your relationship flashes before your eyes like matches starting a fire. it’s so overwhelming that your voice dies, and a tight tug at the back of your throat halts you to a shred of reality you hadn’t dwelled on. you sit further back in your chair, eyes glossing over into thought - lost entirely to the contents of your brain. realization has hit you like a truck in the face of your confrontation. 
because what about all of the wonderful times you’ve spent together.
what about the dancing of your wedding day, the golden burn of his watchful gaze, the presents, the meals shared, the wishes of good morning or good night? what about all of the times that kept you so closely tethered to him? what about the times that kept you in love with the man who barely spoke to you. 
you take a breath - and as quiet as it would be, it’s blaringly loud in the silence of your bedroom. 
“i want to love you. i do. and,, i think i do.” clarity has left your quill, and instead, you write from your heart. what you truly feel. 
“i hate that you don’t notice when i try to do kind things for you.”
“i want to work in matrimony of us.”
“i know our marriage is against our wishes, but i want to make it work.”
“i just.. i just wish you cared about me.”
a hand sharply grabs your chin, pulling your gaze to meet that of your husband's golden gaze. 
“not care?” he asks, his face screwed into a sort of confused expression. “not care?” he asks again as his expression contorts again, further - until his hand is tender. 
you’re so sharply pulled from your own head that you’re left with whiplash. he’s heard you? where was he? did you leave the door open? your eyes are blown wide as you face him in the realization he’s heard everything.
your mouth dries as you look at him, his gaze cuts into your very being and you feel utterly frozen. “no-! i didn’t mean it-” “you do though. i’ve made you feel this way.” his gentle grip on your chin leaves you, and he shuffles away, sitting firmly on your bed. his gaze seems lost, as if he couldn’t keep up with the words you’d admitted. 
“minho..” “i do care.” he cuts in. you swallow, your brows melding together as you do so. “i don’t… want you to feel this way. and i’m sorry for doing so.”
in the face of confrontation he seems genuinely distressed, not that any part of you doubted it - but it was comforting to hear the words leaving his mouth. 
“if we’re to be married, i want you happy. comfortable. i don’t want you to feel bad because of me.” he explains. 
“i just,, i want to work this out. i want us to talk more; tell me what makes you happy and what hurts you.” you reassure, holding onto the back of your chair as minho’s head hangs low. “i’m your wife, i want to hear all of that.” a small smile stretches across your mouth; it’s lopsided and a bit sad, but it’s there nonetheless, and the sound of your voice lets minho’s head rise as he meets your gaze once more. 
he sees in you the beauty he sees across the room even as you just sit a few feet away from him. it’s overwhelming, suffocating; and part of him hates it a little bit for suffocating his heart in one swift swallow. you’re all encompassing and human - he’s learned self-control few could achieve, and yet even a few months into a marriage he didn’t agree to and he’s smitten. he wants to reach deep inside his chest and pull his heart out by it’s tethers, and apart of him wants to feel your love to the highest degree he could if just to be surrounded in heaven once more. 
“were you lying then?” he pauses, hands wrung together. “when you said you loved me?” a small quirk in the corner of his mouth leaves your face and chest hot. 
“i wasn’t lying.”
minho’s made home on your bed, lulled to his side as his pretty eyes wash over your face. you aren’t connected, in fact, you’re a little afraid to touch him - regardless of this fact, your wrist lifts to reach nimble fingers to his face, but you pause, your soft fingers retracting into your palm. 
“touch me.” he needs. his hand cupping your own to bring to his face tenderly.
your face is flushed with a dusty pink, the feeling of his face beneath your touch lights the nerve endings in your palm alight. your brow quirks in thought, but not for a moment do you part with his sun-washed eyes. 
“how did you become a vampire?” you ask quietly, your thumb strokes the soft skin beneath his eye, his hand stroking the back of your own. 
“i was born into it. my family comes from a long blood-line of vampires.” you hum in response, taking a moment to study the wash of sun-like gold that overtakes your husband’s eyes. fractals of evening sun beam through the curtains in your bedroom, creating a soft sleepy haze in your room. dust is seen floating in the room in the portions of sun that reach into the room. 
“you’re beautiful.” he beats you to it, realizing he too has been looking at you the entire time. you retract your hand nervously, a smile stretching across your face in sweet embarrassment. “thank you.”
“do you want to be one one day? or do you value your life?” he’s half joking, a floppy smirk on his lips as he sighs a laugh. you hum once more, looking to his mouth to see the slight glimpse of fangs visible to you. 
“maybe. if it meant i got to spend more time with you, than yes.”
minho’s smirk widens, his eyes washing from your face to the curve of your jaw, to the drop of your neck. his mouth parts, his hand coming to the curve of your ribcage over your waist, his warm hand freezes you in place. he lowers his lips to the column of your neck, a lowly drunken gaze filtering over his face. “that could be arranged.” his breath meets the tender flesh of your neck before he presses your waist closer to your body, his soft lips meeting your neck in a single kiss. 
𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓫𝓲𝓷.↴
“be careful on the job today.” you crane your neck out of the doorway of the kitchen to look at your husband as he tightens a holster around his thigh. he looks up for a moment, face momentarily stricken with something similar to surprise at your well wishes. he looks down a moment later, checks the clip of his pistol, and then shoves it into the holster. “i will. i’ll be back tonight.” the door closes sharply behind him and you’re left in the silence of your home yet again. 
there’s a pool of melted ice on top of your coffee, you take a sip anyway, the palm of your hand now wet from the sweat off the glass. in truth, you were trying. very sternly trying to make your marriage work. but with circumstances of said marriage coupled with the dangerous reality of your lifestyles, it felt like your assumed fate was dwindling before your eyes - a thin bow ready to snap under pressure. 
being born into crime wasn’t all good fellas or the godfather all the time - no. it was nasty business, some of which you came to regret but again this was the only life either of you knew, leaving the business would be impossible without a gun to your head. you persevered in the face of guilt anyway, not knowing fully how your husband felt about the situation. the sound of your phone ringing brings you out of your head for a moment, leaving you rolling your eyes at the sight of your mother’s name across the vibrating screen. 
“yes?’’ your coffee tastes bitter now, too much water - you pour the contents into the sink as she begins talking. 
“hey hun, there’s a job tomorrow that’s opened up. one of the boys got canned, we’ll pay his bail through an anonymous source but we have to wait a few days so the cops don’t catch on. you in?” your fingers tug a coffee filter out of it’s wooden box, stuffing it into the machine as you press a button on your grinder. 
“mom,” your hand comes to your eyes, rubbing them tiredly. “i told you i was out of the dirty work. i’m doing that shit anymore. and i’m severely out of practice of doing anything hefty.” you explain, the grinder stops, you pour the grounds into the coffee machine. she sighs on the other end, her voice coming through more heated now - pressure started weighing on your shoulders. she says your name with a deadly tone, it leaves you feeling as though there’s a cold metal rod stiff in your back. 
“why don’t you ever look out for this family? you think you can just leave and do the bare minimum when your father and i have slaved over making a good childhood for you?” and then you’d argue back and forth until you felt like ripping your hair out and you’d finally cave and you mom would end the call sharply and once again leave you in the silence of your home that was beginning to feel more like a prison. 
when you heard the beep that ended the call, you tossed your phone to the couch and let your mind wander yet again - what else was there to do in your seemingly failing marriage and rocky relationship with your parents? you hadn’t many friends unless they were in the business, and that only counted for a few really close ones. you track around your kitchen with your fingers pushed into your hairline, and your mind wanders back to something she’d said on the phone a few weeks ago. 
“we found you your husband, is that not good enough for you?”
you hadn’t even the energy to put up with audacity of that claim. so you ended the call and showered, but it still ate at you greatly - because no. no it wasn’t enough. changbin, as dedicated to the lifestyle as he was, and you respected him for his commitment, was terrible at showing you what he truly felt. most conversations were barely that, mostly exchanges if anything - and the few good times you’ve had together were truly the only thing keeping you around if it wasn’t for the godforsaken hope you managed to hold onto. 
you saw the good in him - the good he was capable of, and every time you’d suffocate yourself in thought about being three months in and still not working together as a married couple should, you reminded yourself of this fact. it’s what kept you in, what drew you closer to him. because what could you both be? it’s already bad enough you have feelings for the guy and he clearly didn’t feel the same way. 
“fuck,, what am i gonna do.” to clear your head you showered again, tying back your wet hair and slumming around the house until changbin arrived back home when you’d be drifting off to sleep. at least you had an opportunity to clean; and when the house was clean, you felt a bit better. you were correct about changbin returning late - you heard a long sigh as he entered your bedroom, the plop of a duffel bag could be heard. when you look at the time on your phone you see it’s just past three in the morning. 
“how’d it go?” you ask tiredly from the bed, the bathroom light flickers on and he raises his head a bit. “oh i’m sorry i didn’t mean to wake you.” 
“it’s okay. you okay?” 
“yeah. yeah, everything went fine. what’d you do today?” you see the rings of exhaustion circling his eyes as he strips off his shirt and hides the smallest of winces.
you sigh heavily, rubbing your eyes as the sink begins to run. “i talked to my mom on the phone. doing a job tomorrow night. cleaned the house though.”
“what kind of job?” he asks as he starts the shower. you talk a bit louder so he can hear you over the sound of the spray. oh he wasn’t going to like the sound of this - these kinds of jobs were everyone’s least favorite in the business. 
“there’s a warehouse on fifth, when you’re leaving the downtown area. apparently some guys are trafficking there. gotta take them out.” 
“shit.. be careful. small time guys have been trying to make names of themselves.” 
“i know, i will be.”
careful you were, but careful was not enough. those guys holed up in that warehouse with every corner covered, not only that, but with automatic weapons with full mags, dressed in black to blend with the shadows. the job was done, the victims released into promised care and with you aid in the following days, be returned to their families or brought to homes, but not without some wounds of your own. the guys dropped you off at the back of your house, granted it was past midnight but you couldn’t be too careful. your home was secluded - but what the law knew was unbeknownst to the organization in regards to this mission in particular. 
you left your weapons in the van with the promise of getting them back the next day. “c-clean the blood off it for me, would you?” you grinned, shuffling from the van with your arm slung over your partner. you lean nearly fully into his weight as he aids you in finding your back door. you bang on the big sliding window before unlocking it, letting changbin know you were home. 
“we gotta get the fuck outta here. you be careful yeah? call me tomorrow morning.” the driver calls before peeling away from your home. you nod, using the wall to stumble inside your house as the living room is suddenly flooded with light, and your husband walks out of your bedroom with his phone in hand and his brows furrowed. 
“changbin,,” you push the door closed, leaving bloody handprints everywhere you touched. 
“fuck- okay, okay, okay- it’s alright. come here.” his outstretched hands come to wrap your arm around his shoulders and stabilize on your waist as he helps you walk to your bathroom. 
hot spots of pain blossom on your waist, ribs, and leg. it’s throbbing, all encompassing, and leaves your eyes watering when changbin’s palm presses a little harshly into your side. throughout the house your gasps and groans of pain are heard, changbin is working as diligently and carefully as he can to help you to the bathroom, only imagining how much you must be hurting. 
“okay, okay- i’m gonna lay you on the floor okay?” he helps you rest along the floor after he’s put some towels down, and kneels by your side before grabbing the extensive first aid kit you kept in your bathroom. you nod, closing your eyes to focus on breathing, but every breath in hurts, and every exhale throbs your wounds. 
“where are you hit?” he asks, you now notice his hands are tainted with your blood in just a few splotches. he rummages through the kit, reaching for the hem of your shirt as he cuts through your gear and clothing. “m-my sides, and,, one in my left leg.” 
“alright. it’s gonna be okay - let’s get you sewn up. what happened?” he asks as a way of distracting you from how bad this was about to hurt. he pours some alcohol in his hands before barring your torso to his eyes, now seeing the festering wounds. 
“t-they-” you laugh because it’s hurting so bad and your eyes are getting glossy as adrenaline leaves your body. “they had automatics… every one of them was geared the fuck up. and not only that but there must’ve been twenty,, twenty five of them and five of us.” 
changbin’s head slowly shakes in disappointment that you were set up that badly for failure, his haw is tight - but he remains focused on the task at hand, cleaning you up. he lifts you up with one arm and helps you shred your arms of your sleeves completely, focusing now on the wound near your ribs. “why’d they send you in with only five people? did they want you to die? fuck.” 
“seems like it.” you chuckle, his hand stabilizes before he reaches into your wound with medical pliers to grab the bullet still embedded in you. your grip tightens on the towels beneath you, eyes now swimming with tears as you groan at the feeling of the tug of the pliers. 
“i know, i know. you’re doing good though, talk about something. tell me about the job or- your favorite music or something.” his hands dip into a bowl of water, returning to your wound to clean you from blood and put some pressure on the wound. 
“the job was shit, but,, the guys are gone. all the victims are safe and i’ll work on paper work to get them home tomorrow.” he hums, nodding. he puts a bit of topical numbing around the wound before grabbing sutures to close the open wound. “as far as music,” you laugh to yourself again, your gaze focused on the ceiling. “you trying to get to know me? didn’t think you cared so much for that.” 
his hands pause. then lower. he looks at you with a kind of genuinity you didn’t expect from the man you called your husband. “of course i care. you’re my wife.” 
“you’re always so focused on the work, on your job. you’re gone a lot. i can tell you care about the organization i just,, i don’t know. i always hoped you’d care for us too.”
he frowns a bit, his gaze is focused back to his hands as he threads the string more diligently through the needle. he’s paused, he has a focused expression and you can tell when you look at him he’s thinking - part of you hopes you haven’t stumped him, or made him uncomfortable - maybe you did hold out too much hope. 
“i do care about us. about you. i always figured since we were arranged to be married that you wouldn’t want much to do with me.” when he returns to working on your wound you wince, eyes closing tight. he apologizes quietly, but it’s over quicker than you expected. 
“i want everything to do with you, silly. you’re my husband. i want this to work between us if we’re going to be married.” your eyes are still watery and the throbbing hasn’t subsided - you wonder if part of this is delusion since your filter has seemingly disappeared in the face of pain. 
he smiles, softly. “i’m sorry that i’ve made you feel that way, and hey-” his hand reaches for yours, the one that bears the ring he gifted you on the day you were married. your eyes meet his as your head lulls to the side, you grasp onto his hand as if he’d stabilize you - and he does. “i do care about you. genuinely.”
you squeeze his hand, the wash of tears that drowned your eyes from pain spill finally. “i care about you too.” 
“don’t cry, silly. i’m almost done, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” 
after changbin coaches you through treating your wounds, he runs you a quick bath and helps you wash the dirt and sweat from your hair. it felt strange to say you felt an overwhelming trust to him - but maybe that was just the energy he exuded. he helps you to bed, and quickly showers off himself before laying next to you. 
his arm wraps around you, and the pain in your side has dulled from the medicine he made you take after closing up your wounds and cleaning them. your head rests on his chest comfortably. “you never answered my question about music.” he says suddenly. 
“i’ll play you all my faves tomorrow morning when you cook me breakfast because i got shot.” you grin cheekily against him. 
“deal.”
𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓳𝓲𝓷.↴
“i am to be his wife.” there was no expression in the gaze you cast your parents, hands folded neatly in front of you, ever obedient in the face of nobility. before your eyes, in the face of your youth your life of freedom ever awaiting your embrace is taken from you and shackled. your life is to be given to a man you didn’t know, and when shoved his own in your hands you feel the pulse of forgotten life in your palms. there was more to say other than you didn’t want this, there was more words you could sputter in anger at your parents, other screams and cries for this to not happen, yet you swallow, let your eyes gloss over, and prepare a wedding in the following year to a man you’d meet only once before promising forever to him. 
across from you at the altar he stood jaw tight, eyes glassy yet lifeless. when the wedding guests settled and your father handed you off to the prince’s hands, you breathed deep in an attempt to conceal the building tears that sparkled in your eyes. officiant you didn’t know, in the sea of people commending your marriage you knew few faces, and he spoke vows because of remembrance not because of promise. when he lifted the veil from your eyes to look at you, he for a moment faltered and his lips flattened. 
you kissed him because you had to. and you slept beside him that night because you had to. 
in marriage, you always imagined that life would blossom with a spark of light. as a seal to two people’s testament of their love it would grow into something truly beautiful - it would drink in the sun, bathe in the rain, paint its colors on pages and tell its story on lips through decades. as a young girl, the idea of one day marrying someone that loved you was thrilling to say the least. it was pure; and good. and every notion, every dream, every promise to your life you’d made, was stripped from you in a single evening. 
you’d rise from bed when the maids would wake you to dress. you’d be dressed beside your husband, wearing the rings that testified your union, and would watch over the kingdom that would be given to your hands one day. 
there was no use in trying, not even from the start. 
but you wanted to love him. oh you terribly wanted to love him. 
beside him you’d sleep - watching the curvature of his heart shaped lips, the breathing his body exuded - existence. how you were his without him even knowing. only in this state could you see him, really see him. the sprawl of his hair on the pillow before it was to be tied back that morning upon your wake. beautiful he was. when his eyes fluttered open, he wet his lips and you heard him speak - for the first time it felt as though it was to you. 
“i’m sorry.” 
for the entire rest of the day you spent in a haze in your own head. 
two months have gone by, and you were achingly in love with him. but you couldn’t say the same for him; his headspace was unknown. you shared a great castle together, a smaller one just outside the village as your parents lived inside the city walls in the palace, but home felt like a restraint on you. nothing was sacred.
when you spoke, it was matters of business and a shred of the time was talk of personal matters. the only truth you spoke to hyunjin was in the hours before he’d wake when sleep would leave you too early. you tuck your folded hands together under your pillow, your eyes washing over his face as he slept. upon your movement, he turned to his side, his broad shoulders creating lines of his body beneath his sleep shirt. part of you wanted to reach out, to wrap your arms around him and tell him you believed in the both of you, but your thoughts still to silence. 
“i wish you cared for me, in the way i care for you.” you mumble quietly. 
“but i cannot say it yet. you’re a shadow; yet you’re sorry. i’m so confused in my love for you.” 
that’s when he turned over, his eyes open. the maids walk in a second later and your wide eyes glance to them. they pause in their steps, looking between the both of you. had he heard you? surely not. you push yourself onto your elbows as he speaks to the maids, his own hands planted firmly in the mattress. 
“i can dress her.” 
they quickly excuse themselves after, mumbling as they leave the room hurriedly. the room stills, you’re left in the wake of his words with confusion bubbling through your head and your face suddenly flushed. he stands without another word as they’ve left the room, moving to the closet to fetch your under clothes, corset, and gown for the day. 
“hyunjin,” you speak softly. 
“i care greatly for you. i do, but-” 
you swallow, still sitting on the bed with your legs curled beneath the covers. “you cannot dress me.” you hold a hand to pause him in his movements as he approaches with your day clothes in hand. he swallows, “you’re my wife. i can dress you. if you’d let me.” 
hwang hyunjin was one of the most beautiful men you’d ever seen, and this he knew as well - yet the cool confidence he usually carried on his shoulders, in his handshakes, and in his voice, had dissipated. he looked at you with darting eyes that searched your own for the answers he needed, his hands gripped your dress tight. 
his hand stretches out to you, offerance of aid. you look to his palm, the gentle length of his fingers, and find his exuding energy welcoming - so you take his hand. it’s warm as your skin washes over his own, his hands were smooth and embracing, and you stand before him with a sharp intake of breath. 
“i’ve made you feel this way,” he begins, beginning to untie the laces that hang from the neck of your night dress. there’s a great deal of nerve vibrating through your body at the prospect of him dressing you, but regardless you let him in the wake of his tenderness. and if it meant a moment you could share closer to him - you’d take it. 
“you only speak your feelings to me when you think i’m asleep.” at that your breath stills, panic settles in quietly to your bones. 
“i-i’m sorry i-” “you have no need to apologize, it’s me. i’ve made you feel this way. and i’m sorry.” when your dress is removed, he kneels at your feet to gather it before letting you step into your under dress. you rest your hand on his shoulder for balance to do so. 
“in truth, i can’t tell you why i love you.” he says, his hands working to tie your second layer skirt around your waist, once it’s firm and not uncomfortable, you turn your head to look at him with glossy eyes. “you cannot say such things to me and not mean it. you can’t.” 
“i know i haven’t shown it, but it’s true, that i promise you.” with that, he gently guides your arms through the holes of your corset, and begins lacing it, leaving your eyes drowning in tears as your lips tremble. 
“you-you haven’t shown it. how am i to know you love me or that i love you when we hardly have a relationship. you’re my husband, i want to love you as one.” you gasp as he pulls the strings to tighten it, his palm laying flat on your back as he tugs once more. 
“it’s a promise i make now, to show you i do indeed love you. i want you to tell me when you’re hurting, i want to help, i want to grow with you.” his hands lay along your waist as your corset is tightened. when he rounds you, seeing your eyes fogged over, his heart pangs with guilt. 
“i’m sorry, truly. that i have made you feel this way. but please, know my promise is true.” his hands come to gather yours in his grip. 
you nod, wiping your face for a moment as you lift your gaze to look at him. “then i’ll tell you. i’ll tell you whatever you want to hear. i want to work to make this kingdom a happy place for our people, we must work together in that regard.” 
hyunjin listens, strokes his thumbs across the backs of your hands and you speak for a while longer on your marriage, how you’re both willing to work to make your love make sense, how you wish to be a unit in making the kingdom a place of happiness for your people. he prepares for the day, wearing an outfit the same shade of off-white as your own with his long dark hair tied back into a bun. 
he offers his arm to you before you both leave your bedroom, smiling softly. “thank you for talking to me.” he says, opening the door for you. “thank you for listening and talking as well. it feels nice to have this weight lifted.” 
“i agree.”
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sorry if hyunjin's is written weird i was listening to cornfield chase by hans zimmer and got lost in the sauce.
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toast-on-dandelioms · 5 months
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Disclaimer
I am not the biggest fan of dc but I do know the story and everything, so if any character from the batfamily is wrong please tell me so I will try to fix it.
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Another story of Neglect
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You were another one of Bruce's children, born by one of his nightstands with a model to which he just gave child support and didn't really visit.
You never cared, you didn't even know that he was your father since you were happy with just your mom and the life you were living at the moment, but everything changed because of a stupid drunk driver that ended up crashing the car against your mom's one and killing both of them at the impact. You were only 12 and your life just changed in one night.
You had no one else, or at least no one that could take you in since everyone was busy or couldn't be bothered to have another mouth to feed so you ended up in front of Wayne's Manor, two suitcases full of stuff plus all the boxes from your old room and house that you managed to save from the relatives who tried to grab everything valuable in the house.
After getting in your room and setting everything up, making sure your photos with your mom and you were safe and sound, you tried to interact with your new family, wanting to make the best out of a bad situation but you didn't think that they would be so different from what you saw in the media.
•Bruce Wayne: you heard that he was a playboy but very nice to his kids, you saw how he looked at Damian or Dick, a look full of love and adoration that your mom used to give it to you.
But to you, he looked at you like you were just a nuisance that wasn't supposed to be here, he made sure to tell you the first day that you came here to not expect much since he wouldn't have the time to take care of every small needs and to just tell him or Alfred if you wanted to do something out of the school activities since you would be changing schools.
You tried to interact with him, to learn from what he likes so you could just try and hold a conversation with him but he always left you behind for another one of his kids that needed him at the moment, leaving you there with a small smile and just a small light of hope that maybe he will come back to talk to you.
But he never did.
•Richard/Dick Grayson: you thought he was the nicest big brother you ever seen, especially from what you saw him talking or playing with Damian, Tim or even Jason.
(You did find out pretty soon that they were the famous vigilantes since they didn't really keep it hidden from you, especially since you saw them in costumes and even training while they ignored you or didn't even notice your presence.)
You tried to talk to him but he was just like Bruce, leaving you for Damian mostly or using any excuse to not spend time with you.
Even when you tried to ask him to do some acrobatics since you knew he was from the circus, he just gave you an excuse 'sorry but it's been a while since Damian and Tim saw me and I wanted to go out with them, maybe next time (wrong/name)", leaving you before you even had the time to correct him about your name.
•Jason Todd: honestly he was the most decent family member, second to Alfred who treated you better whenever you were left alone, since he just straight up told you that he didn't care and to not bother with him.
You did try a few more times, thinking he was one with a tough exterior but a softie inside, thinking that he just needed time but him accidentally punching you in the face and leaving you with a black eye from you walking up behind him made you understand that he didn't care, especially with the way that he looked at you with an annoyed expression before walking away.
At least you didn't have to spend months trying to gain his favor, he already made it clear that he didn't care about you.
But it still hurts you know?
• Tim Drake: he was the only one you couldn't really put a pin on who he really is, not of some double life or something like that.
It's just that sometimes he would act nice, talking to you but the next time you would see him, even if the time passed between the two intervals could be of 1 hour, he would act like you were an annoying thing or would just ignore you.
You understood that he was sleep deprived and just started leaving him some candies that could help him sleep, wanting to help in a small way, especially since he was the only one you could actually help a little.
And the last, but especially the worst one was none other than Damian Wayne/al Ghul since he first acted like you were gonna steal something from him, especially considered that you were a year or two older than him.
He harassed you, using his animals or just his assassin skills to torment you for years even though you never gave him reasons to do so.
Not more than once you had to patch yourself in the bathroom because of his harassment, the scars still visible but luckily in places you could hide so no one would question you for them.
After two or three years he finally stopped and went to be one of the family members to give you attention to completely ignore your existence, acting like you weren't even someone worthy of his attention.
You always wanted to just hit him back but it would be relatively impossible to even try to land a hit on him because of his assassin training that he had.
But one thing you still had that connected you to your old life, to when you were happy and still with someone who loved you was dancing, which you still went to practice everyday and tried to invite your family but everyone was either busy or straight up told you that they didn't care.
Only Alfred would show up but it was also rare, but it would fill your heart with joy everytime you saw him in the audience of whatever ballet you were casted in, even if you weren't the main protagonist and just a side character.
You also tried to be the best in school, just to show it to Bruce and make him proud like your mother was whenever you were in the top but with a family filled with geniuses like Tim Drake and Damian Wayne, it was difficult to even compare to them.
But every day, you still had hope that maybe, if you opened the doors of your heart they will finally enter and make you part of the family.
That you can finally be accepted again, and maybe even join them in their vigilante jobs but alas, they always had excuses, excuses and even more excuses.
You were getting tired of all their excuses.
After a while you understand that maybe the problem is not you, it never was.
You opened up many times in the past years. You gave them every piece of your broken heart to hold but they would always break it in even more little pieces.
But, not everything always goes to plan does it?
So, instead of continuing to try, you also decided to ignore them back and live your life, counting the days of your eighteen birthday so you could finally get out and be free from the mansion you were supposed to call home.
Part 2 is here!
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oh-stars · 3 months
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Eddie Doesn't Share Food
Love is sharing food.
a @steddielovemonth prompt | 1131 words | CW: N/A | Rating: G
--
It’s a common fact among Hellfire that Eddie doesn’t share food easily. He can provide food to everyone and if he knows you’re going without, he’ll gladly give you all of his share, or at the very least a good portion of it. But outside of a necessity or hosting an event, Eddie’s not one to share. 
When they get a basket of fries for the table after games, Eddie takes handfuls at a time. He’ll eat one and place the rest on a napkin in front of him. He’ll eat a few here and there, grab a few more from the basket, and then eat the remainder from his napkin.
They’ll all be sharing bites and trying each other’s meals when they’re out to eat, swapping onion rings for fries and bites of steak for the grilled chicken, but not Eddie. Never Eddie. If you even ask for a bite of his food, he’ll give you that stare, the one he usually saves for his villain NPCs or when you ask a dumb question in Hellfire. 
So you can imagine Dustin’s surprise when Eddie splits his burger with Steve unprompted. 
“Are you sure, man?” Steve asks, taking the sandwich from Eddie’s hands. 
Eddie nods, already reaching to take a bite of his half. “Go for it.” 
Steve shrugs. “Want a part of mine?” He offers his plate, where his BLT is already cut in half and one side is completely untouched. 
“Sure,” Eddie says. 
Dustin looks between the two of them, unable to even touch his chicken fingers, as they go back to eating like this is a completely normal thing for them to do. And if it was literally anyone else other than Eddie fucking Munson, Dustin may be inclined to agree that it is. But since Eddie is the initiating party, it is assuredly not normal.
And he knows a thing or two about freaky things. 
“Close your mouth,” Steve says as he tosses a fry at him. “You’ll catch flies and I am not about to perform the heimlich because you decided to swallow flies instead of fries.” 
Eddie snorts, smirking through his mouthful. 
Dustin scrubs his face, then shakes his head so hard his hat nearly falls off. “What am I looking at?” he asks, eyes narrowed at Eddie. 
“We’re eating. It’s what you’re supposed to do at lunch, Henderson,” Eddie says. He reaches forward to thump the bill of Dustin’s cap so it falls over his forehead. “If you don’t hurry it up, we’re leaving you here and heading to the movie without you.” 
“You wouldn’t,” Dustin says. 
“Try us,” Steve says, shrugging as he wipes his mouth. 
Dustin opens his mouth, then closes it. He’s not about to goad Steve into a dare. He’s seen how that plays out one too many times. Instead, he vows to see if this is a singular occurrence or if it happens again. 
Which it does, the next week when they’re setting up for Hellfire. 
Eddie’s got a bag of chips in his hands as he looks over his notes, leaning back into his chair. They’re all talking amongst themselves as Eddie gets in the zone, regrouping for the session and filling in Jeff on what he missed since he had to miss the last session for a family thing. 
Steve brings a two-liter in and some red solo cups, filling it up for everyone who wants the pop. “What about you, Eds?” Steve asks, leaning against the back of Eddie’s chair. 
“Yes, please,” Eddie says, glancing up from his notebook. He’s holding a chip, has been for a moment, likely too lost in his thoughts to remember he was snacking to begin with. And Dustin has the honors of watching, horrified, as Eddie offers Steve the chip. Only, Steve doesn’t take it like a normal person, he dips down and lets Eddie place the chip into his mouth. 
“Thanks,” Steve says as he leaves Eddie’s freshly poured cup on the side table Eddie has next to his chair. Then he disappears back into the kitchen.
Eddie just smiles and goes back to his notebook, hand fumbling for the bag to grab another. 
Dustin whips around to his companions, eyes wide and gesturing toward their dungeon master. “You guys saw that, right?” 
Gareth’s eyes are narrow, but he nods. “He’s been brainwashed,” he mumbles. 
“Or maybe he’s just growing up,” Jeff says. 
“Eddie?” Mike scoffs. “Please. The guy’s so stubborn he’d rather die than give up his beliefs. And not sharing food is one of his biggest ones.” 
“Apparently not,” Lucas says, motioning to the bag of chips Eddie’s still digging through. 
It happens again when Steve comes back in to say he’s running to the store, pausing only to take the offered chip from Eddie, this time like a normal person. 
They don’t even get a chance to process it before Eddie’s announcing the start of the session. 
Dustin racks his brain on a way to bring it up, to investigate further, but once again, he doesn’t get the chance. 
He’s staying the night at Steve’s, with Eddie and Robin, to watch movies and celebrate Steve’s birthday in a lowkey way. The four of them are relaxing and enjoying the night together, simple and quiet in comparison to the party’s usual festivities. 
Steve dishes out the small cake Robin had made him, slicing and passing out plates to all three of them. He doesn’t take one for himself though. Instead, he plops back down onto the couch and practically sits on Eddie, tucking himself under Eddie’s arm. 
Eddie offers a bite of his cake, unprompted and like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. 
All Dustin can do is watch as Eddie and Steve alternate bites, eating from the same slice like they were a couple or somethi–
Oh. 
Dustin feels like his brain is hit with a thousand thoughts at the speed of light as it all falls into place. Huh. Okay then. He leans back into the recliner he’s sitting in, his own plate held close to his chest, and lets himself enjoy the too-sweet icing. It tastes like how he feels; happiness and wonder in the form of cake and icing. 
If Eddie’s willing to share his food with Steve, then he must really love him and that’s the kind of love Steve deserves. 
He feels like he could burst with happiness for his friends, for the possibilities this will open for them. Rather than express those thoughts, even if he really wants to, Dustin shoves the biggest bite into his mouth and does a little dance. 
Steve laughs at him, eyes all crinkly and bright even as he accepts another bite from Eddie. Yeah, Dustin could get used to seeing Steve that happy.
--
Thanks to @lady-lostmind for betaing!
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sunsetsimon · 6 months
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simon 'ghost' riley x reader
mentions of ptsd, abuse, torture, touch aversion, nightmares
always remember, you are loved and cared for. reach out if you need help, i am always here to provide resources. you are not alone, do not go through this alone.
─────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────
☼ jealousy. it wasn't a feeling that simon felt often, and not in the ways most people experienced it, he could care less about any materialistic items. his jealousy would stir in his stomach when he saw people doing to them - normal things. a hug goodbye, holding hands, it was all foreign to him.
he's used to a playful punch from soap or a pat on the shoulder from price, but he never initiates. when you first get together, he's uncomfortable with physical affection and will often unintentionally shut you down. your hand will reach for his but he doesn't move, not even noticing you attempting to touch him. he won't hug you before he leaves, only giving a nod and heading out.
he knows it hurts you but it's hard.
slowly he works on it, giving a loving squeeze and reaching for your hand, but it's a long process before it becomes an unconscious habit.
☼ simon doesn't sleep much to begin with, but when it gets bad, he starts to have nightmares almost every night. they're intense, seeming to last forever, as if he'd lived days in the dream. his sleepy mumbling will turn into physical reactions, his body starting to twitch, fists clenching so hard his knuckles turn white. gasping awake he shoots up, his hand immediately on his gun and ready for combat. he's sweaty, heart beating so fast it seemed like it'd jump out of his chest.
"you okay, si?" you whisper from beside him, snapping him back to reality. simon takes a deep breath, setting his pistol back down on the nightstand, unable to speak. immediately you recognize it was another nightmare, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his back. his head drops into his hands, needing to take time to relearn what his reality is; he's home, he's with you.
but fuck, why doesn't it feel that way then? why is he haunted every time he closes his eyes?
"'m so tired," he mumbles, fighting back tears of frustration and pain, trying not to question what he did to deserve this hell he calls his own mind.
"i know si... i wish i could take it all away," you attempt to comfort him, but know that nothing you do could help him right now, he just needs time. he gives your arm a pat before standing up, leaving to take time for himself. you hear his footsteps trail down the stairs and a door open, simon deciding to retreat to the garage for the next few hours until he feels okay again.
☼ he wouldn’t ever tell you what actually happened to him, just making vague comments here and there when the opportunity arises. he's scared to talk about it, not wanting to remember anything or try to process it.
your soft fingers trail along the pale scars littered across his skin, wondering what must've happened to him, all the pain he's been through. you stop at a small one on his left wrist, "how'd you get this one?"
"my dad was a piece of shit," and he leaves it at that. you don't push any further, accepting the curt answer with a nod. you softly kiss the scar, beautiful eyes flickering to his. it's things like this that slowly heal him, and instead of thinking of the pain that came with each scar, he thinks of your lips kissing each one as if that'd make it all better. you make it all better.
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neverinadream · 2 months
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Let Them Hear You, Princess
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Summary: Seeing your ex-boyfriend leaves you itching to do something that could potentially get you and Nico kicked out of the bar.
Pairing: Nico Hischer x Fem!Reader
Requested: Nope
Song Inspo: When You Need A Man - The Driver Era
Warnings: 18+, minors dni, smut, nsfw, fwb!nico, mentions of an ex-boyfriend, dom!nico x sub!reader, hints of a brat!reader but not really, bathroom sex, pet names (baby, princess, good girl...), praise, some hair pulling, handjob, oral (male & female receiving), fingering, nico gets a little possessive, not edited
Notes: uh...hi! once again, i am writing for someone new. to my existing followers who don't follow the nhl you don't have to read this, it's okay to skip this one. some parts of this is a little off with the phrasing, at least to me they are, so just try to ignore it, and yes, the ending might feel a little rushed or unfinished but i was losing focus so...yeah, enjoy whores 🫶🏻 feedback is always appreciated
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"And I'm finally back," Nico slides the drink across the table, the red and white striped straw taking centre stage in the glass, "only took me nineteen hours." He rakes his fingers through his hair as he slides into the booth, tucking a few strands behind his ear. "Next time," he hooks his arm around your shoulders, "you can go up to the bar."
You scoop up your glass, your lipstick-stained lips wrapping innocently around the straw, but the act momentarily draws in his gaze, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.
"And what makes you think I'll get served any quicker than you?" You take a quick sip, the taste of vodka mixed into the fruity concoction burning the back of your throat. "The place is packed."
You look out to the rest of the bar, your usual spot for a night out overcrowded with others who were looking to knock back a few drinks. No one could move without accidentally tripping over someone's foot, or bumping elbows with another. At a pool table, you spot his teammate gaining the attention of a small brunette.
"Timo has a better chance of getting her number than I do getting served at that bar."
The corners of his mouth pull up into a grin. "I don't know," he sets his drink down, condensation already forming on the outside of the bottle, "I think you'd get served pretty quickly."
You pull the straw to the corner of your mouth, matching his grin. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," he shuffles closer, the rough texture of his denim jeans brushing against your bare leg. He dips his eyes, watching you adjust your skirt, a small comment about wishing you had worn something else filling his ears. "There's nothing wrong with what you're wearing," he reassures you, liking the way the dress hugged your body, "it would definitely catch the eye of a bartender." He tilts his head, letting his gaze wash over your body, absently licking his lips. "Perhaps even get you served quicker at a crowded bar," he trails off.
You rolled your eyes and take another sip, hoping the coldness of your drink might cool the heat that rocketed up your neck as you swallowed it down. "You're not even-" You fall silent, your skin growing cold when your eyes land on someone you had hoped not to see tonight.
Nico chuckles, going for his beer. "Not what, cutie?"
"Connor's here," you whisper, caging your drink closer to your chest.
He sighs. "I know." Your eyes snap to him. "I saw him when I was at the bar, okay," he explains, pulling his arm from around you, dropping his hand to give your knee a soft squeeze, "he tried to talk to me, so I told him to fuck off."
"Nico-"
"The guy's a dick, Y/N," he cuts you off, bringing his hand higher up your leg. Your gaze is dragged down to the hand that burned your thigh, the roughness of his calloused hands leaving behind a dull ache. "And it's not like we were ever buddies when you were together." Your eyes snap back up when he takes his hand away. "Come on," he suggests, nodding over to a few of his teammates, "let's go have some fun."
Your eyes drop to your lap. "I don't know," you mumble, shrugging. Seeing Conor had left you with a sour taste and a desire to hide. "I think I wanna go home."
Nico slides the bottle over the edge, swallowing the sigh that wants to escape. "Look at me," he cups your face, tilting your head back, smiling when your eyes finally reach him, whispering, "Hi." You try to match his smile but it's weak. "Don't let him ruin your night, okay?"
"That's easy for you to say," you chew your bottom lip.
"Maybe," he brings his thumb against your bottom lip, gently prying it from between your teeth, "but you're my friend and I like you better when you're smiling."
You perk your eyebrows. "I thought you liked me better when I'm on my knees?"
"That too," he agrees, a chuckle ripping through his chest.
Sitting back, he reaches for his beer, catching the attention of your ex as he tips his head back and takes a long sip. Connor's eyes flickered back and forth between you and Nico, a scowl pinching at the corners of his mouth when Nico wrapped his arm over your shoulders. He quirks his eyebrow, his own lips curling into a smirk, like he was silently saying you lost.
"You know what," Nico swings his head in your direction, "let's get out of here."
"You sure?"
Nico nods. "Timo looks like he'll be leaving soon," he takes another sip, "and I'm sure the others won't mind us leaving early."
He slides out the booth, grabbing his jacket off the seat, but you stay seated. He glances back over his shoulder, turning quickly on his heels when you hadn't followed him. "I thought you wanted to stay and have some fun?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest, the action subtly spilling the tops of your boobs over your dress.
He lifts his foot up onto the booth step, his hand reaching out to rest on the seat. "And I thought you wanted to leave?" He fires back, matching your tone. He looks into your eyes like he was trying to bore his way into your brain. To find the thing that had made you change your mind. "You know, since Connor is here?"
"And then I'll get home and just feel stupid for letting him get to me," you tell him, reaching for your glass, draining the rest of your drink at an impressive speed. Setting the glass down, your eyes flick to the bar where Connor crowded the end with his usual group of slimy friends. One look at him had you remembering the cold way he had broken things off with you. It made you angry. Angry enough to do something worthy of getting you and Nico potentially kicked out of the bar. "I want to piss him off."
Nico doesn't stop the smile that stretches across his face. "That's my girl," he cheers, putting his jacket back on the seats, like he was staking a claim on the booth. He wasn't going to miss a chance to help you. "What you got in mind?"
You shuffle out of the booth, Nico moving back to leave you enough space to step out. "Come here." You beckon him closer with your finger, excitement thrilling your body as he steps towards you, his large hands moulding to the shape of your hips. He lowers his mouth but you place your finger against his lips, barring him from the pleasure of kissing you. "I want you to fuck me, Nico," you whisper, sliding your hand down his broad chest, stopping just above the waistband of his jeans, "I want him to hear me scream your name as you make me come."
A lump the size of New Jersey lodges itself inside his throat, but he swallows it down, grinning as you hook your finger under his chin and pull him in for a kiss. He groans, tasting the fruitiness of the cocktail you had been drinking, fisting his fingers into your hair and pulling your head back to deepen the kiss. He sucks on your tongue, his cock growing hard from your taste, and he nips at your bottom lip as he pulls away.
"Does he look pissed?" He asks into your ear, lining your jaw with quick kisses.
"Like he could throw a chair," you reply, biting your bottom lip and whimpering as Nico sucks on your neck.
"Good," he pulls back to look at you, "now let's go really piss him off."
Nico pulls you quickly into the bathroom, his hand blindly searching behind him until he hears something click.
"The door-"
"Already locked," Nico cuts you off, wrapping his arms firmly around your waist, and burying his face into your neck. The smell of your perfume was intoxicating, leaving his cock at half-mast and twitching in his jeans. "I don't want anyone disturbing us," he adds, kissing and nipping at your skin, making his way up the column of your throat. You feel his smug grin pressing into the side of your neck. "I bet he's just counting down the minutes until we come back."
His calloused thumb presses against your mouth and he watches it open with little resistance, doing nothing to stop the memories of you taking his cock, your lips stretched around his girth, from flashing behind his eyes.
You flick your tongue over the pad of his thumb, grinning when he responds with a low groan. "Whatcha thinking about?" You giggle, looking up to meet his eyes.
"You," he simply answers, "on your knees."
You wiggle out of his arms, sinking to your knees before him. "Like this?" You encourage his fantasy, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling the zipper down. He nods, tucking his hair back and rutting his hips as you pull his jeans down just low enough to untuck him. "So fucking pretty," you whimper, wrapping your hand around the base and flicking your tongue over the crown of his cock.
He snorts. "Did you just call it pretty?"
"You call my pussy pretty, don't you?" You ask, spitting onto his head and pumping it up and down in languid strokes.
"Because it is, princess."
"Exactly!"
"Oh, fuck-!" You lower your mouth onto him, Nico tipping his head back as your warmth surrounds his tip. His precum sits on your tongue, a moan rattling along his shaft, and pulsating his balls. "Yeah, that's it." He feels your tongue run along the underside, licking along the sensitive strip, and swirl around his tip. "Don't be a tease-," he props his hand on the back of your head and nudges his hips forward, encouraging you to take more, "-and pretend like you can't take any more."
"Perhaps I need a little assistance," you goad, pulling off him with a pop and breaking a string of spit with your tongue. His cock slides in and out of your closed fist lubricated, albeit messily, with your spit. "Fuck my throat, baby," you whisper, before lazily kissing his tip.
"Up," he gives the one-worded demand, ignoring your protest as he hoists you to your feet.
You watch with disappointment hanging in your eyes as he tucks himself away, your feet stumbling back until you feel the counter pressed against you. "No fair," you mumble, grabbing a handful of his shirt, tugging him forwards, "I was having fun."
"You were being a brat," he disagrees, curling his hand around your neck and licking at the seem of your mouth, before crashing his lips against it. You willingly part your lips and let his tongue in, swallowing up his groans as you rub him through his jeans. "Stop it," he grumbles against you, grabbing your wrist and pinning it at your side.
You trail your mouth lazily down his neck, dragging your teeth over his Adam's apple. "Let me have my fun," you beg, sucking hard on the bottom of his neck.
"Oh, you'll have your fun, princess."
He lifts you onto the counter, the top cold against you, making you shiver. He bunches the end of your dress around your waist and pulls your panties to the side, chuckling like he knew you'd be soaked from sucking his cock. Another shiver licks up your spine as he runs his fingers gingerly against you, rubbing your clit in slow circles.
Taking two fingers, he pops them into his mouth and groans, tasting you as he sucks them clean.
"You'll have your fun coming for me," he insists, hooking his fingers under your panties, tearing them down as he sinks to his knees. He tucks them into his pocket and looks up at you with a grin. "And I want you to be loud," he lifts one leg over his shoulder, grazing his mouth along the inner of your thigh, "I want to make sure that pathetic excuse for an ex hears you."
A noise somewhere between a moan and a strangled gargling sound rockets up your throat as Nico latches his mouth around your pussy. Your fingers, itching to grab onto anything, fist their way into his hair, the soft strands slipping through them like strands of fine silk, and tug at them every time he does something you like. You moan his name loud and proudly, the excitement and the rush of your ex hearing you floods you with more arousal.
He switches between long, languid flicks of his tongue, the kind that teases out your desperate whimpers for more, licking you from bottom to top and sucking on your clit until you nearly squirm off the counter. "God-!" You tip your head back and tug on his hair. "I don't think I'll ever get used to this."
He grunts in agreement, licking his lips as pulls away, liking the way the taste of you coats every inch of his mouth. His hand slides up your thigh and teases your clit with his thumb. "He never treated you like this, did he?" He spreads you apart with his fingers, drool pooling in his mouth from how pretty you looked. "Couldn't fuck you the way a princess deserves to be fucked." He dips his head and flicks his tongue back and forth over your clit. "That's okay," he mumbles against you, "you've got me now."
You whimper, feeling the tip of his finger nudge against you. "Please," you nod, moaning and biting your lip, feeling your pussy clench around nothing when you look down to see him already staring up at you. He retracts his finger, earning himself a unhappy scowl. "Nico-"
"Louder," he cuts in, silencing your protest, "make sure he hears you." He rises to his feet, wiping his mouth and chin with his hand, before pressing it against the mirror, forcing you to lean back as he towers over you. "Let 'em all hear you," he corrects himself, possessiveness lacing his tone, "make sure every fucker who has looked at you tonight hears you beg for it." It was Nico's idea for you both to have a casual arrangement - someone to have a bit of fun with without the commitment that came with a relationship - but he sure hated the way this dress made people stare at you. You were his, not theirs. He was the one making you come most nights, not them. "Let 'em all know who you belong to."
"Nico-"
"Louder!"
You guide his hand between your thighs, bringing his fingers against your cunt, teasing your hole that was desperate for any attention. "Please," you whimper, bucking your hips, trying to push onto his fingers. He grunts but doesn't oblige. "Nico!" You whine, dragging his name out. It only earns you another chuckle. "Stop teasing me!"
He crashes his mouth down against yours, swallowing your moans as he finally pushes his finger inside. "Nice and warm for me," he mumbles, his tongue splitting your mouth open, tangling with your own. Little whimpers fill the bathroom as you taste yourself, the corners of his lips twitching upwards into half-smile. "Taste good, don't you, baby?"
You nod, raking your fingers through his hair and dragging his mouth back down for a second taste.
He withdraws his finger and adds a second, feeling you stretch to fit the girth of both. "So fucking tight," he breathes against you, pinching your bottom lip between his teeth.
"I guess you're just gonna have to stretch me out," you reply, sneaking your hand down the front of his jeans.
"Who knew a pretty mouth could say such filthy things?"
"It's all your doing," you giggle, kissing the underside of his stubbled jaw, "I was all sweet and innocent until you came along." He moans as you grab and untuck his cock, dipping to kiss down your neck to hide the pink flush of his cheeks. It sits thick and heavy inside your palm, the tip red and sensitive, dripping more pre-cum. You squeeze the head, feeling his hips rut up to find more friction, and run your thumb gingerly through the pearly beads. "You corrupted me."
"Corrupted?" He brings his thumb down against your clit, brushing it in circles, working it in tandem with his fingers. "No, baby," he tuts, resting his mouth against the shell of your ear. His breath on your skin makes you shiver, your cunt clenching hard around his fingers. "I cured your blindness, allowed you to see just how good sex could truly be."
You snort. "I never said the sex with him was bad." It was.
"You didn't need to," Nico says, withdrawing his fingers and sucking them clean. Just as you were about to whine, he dips, sinking onto one knee, and latches his mouth around your clit, sucking the nub between his lips. "God, I'll never get over how good you taste," he moans around you. Hooking his hands under your bum, he presses you firmly against his mouth, drilling his tongue deep inside. "That's it," he mumbles as you loudly for him, "atta girl! Let 'em hear you."
Reaching for him, you hold onto the back of his head, your fingers curling through his hair, keeping you upright as you rock your hips. "Jesus, Nico!" You moan his name, falling into the same rhythm as his tongue laps against your cunt. His nose bumps against your clit and your body jerks. "Fuck-!" You breathe out, the knot in your stomach tightening - you were so close to coming. "Don't stop!"
"Gonna come for me?" He peeks up at you, grinning into you as you dig your nails into his head, holding him still as you buck your hips wildly against him. "Yeah?" He chuckles, the vibrations rushing through you. "You are? Come on, princess, use your words."
"Yes, Nico!" Your face flushes with a searing heat as you cry out. "Fuck-! I'm coming!"
A light laugh emits from the back of his throat, drowned out by your loud cries. "That's it, buck into my face," he drags his tongue over your cunt, "give it to me - all of it; make a fucking mess." He pushes his tongue deeper inside, feeling a rush of warmth gush over him, and circles his arm around your thigh to brush his thumb over your clit. "That's it," he encourages, rubbing your clit in fast circles, trying to hold you in place as you thrash about, "good girl, so fucking good for me!"
Your body withers and shakes, hips trying to jerk away from his mouth as he brings you down from your high.
"I definitely think he heard you," Nico says, withdrawing himself from between your thighs, his mouth wet and his hair a complete mess. He rakes his hand over his hair, quickly fixing it. "I hope he did," he murmurs, hooking his fingers under your chin and drawing you close. The kiss is short and he pulls away licking his lips. "Come on, let's get out of here," he mumbles, fixing his jeans and helping you back onto your feet, "I'm not finished with you yet."
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NHL Taglist: @thoseboysinblue @chilwellspulisic @lovelynikol16 @love4lando
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711 notes · View notes
shunsuiken · 7 months
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HOW THE GENSHIN MEN FIND YOU DRUNK
pairing(s). kaeya, diluc, zhongli, childe, ayato, thoma, tighnari, kaveh, wanderer x gn!reader
genre. fluff + mentions of alcohol use ofc + reader is a lightweight (welcome to my life guys <3)
wc. 400-800 for each character
an. SOOOOO this was inspired by a cdrama i watched back in 2021 and when i saw it i just HAD to write about it <3 also i think i had a bit too much fun on zhongli’s and childe’s i hope its not so obvious dear god. also??? for some reason the ones i had the hardest time writing for ended up being the longer parts omg
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kaeya alberich
after spending some time upstairs with a couple of treasure hoarders who were completely unaware of being thoroughly deceived by the cunning cavalry captain, kaeya decides to head down and run over the knowledge he collected with mond’s famed beverage, death after noon.
but as he walks down the staircase, he spots a familiar figure sitting by the bar. he squints his eye slightly, almost not believing the sight in front of him. is that y/n? on the high stool by the bar? dozing off to only a few shots of liquor? tonight just became even more interesting. now he’s starting to wonder what things you would say under the influence—for no shady reasons, obviously, as he genuinely enjoyed your company and witiful mouth. he’s just a curious man with the goal of unveiling a few other things about you.
he makes a beeline to the bar, setting himself on your right side so you’re in his line of vision. glancing around, he motions for charles for his death after noon. kaeya only turns to you once his drink arrives, quickly giving you a once over. seeing as how it looked like you came to angel’s share after work he might as well stir up a conversation.
your vision is blurry but you can definitely feel the presence of another person beside you. as you lift your head from your crossed arms, your brows crease in irritation. which imbecile decided to disturb your time alone? you’re literally brooding over the fact that captain kaeya would never be yours, so you irresponsibly decided an hour ago that some liquor would magically help you forget your worries.
you’re ready to scare the person off with a glare but what you’re met with is quite literally, much worse (because your glares don’t work on him and also because he's part of the reason you’re in your drunken state).
kaeya chuckles at your expression. “why the long face? it’s just me.”
you rub your eyes, groaning from the bitterness lingering in your throat. of all people, you weren’t expecting him. “you never stop by on wednesday’s. is something up?” you ask drowsily as kaeya watches you pick up your glass, clumsily squinting at the bottom of it to see if there was any more of your liquor left.
kaeya dodges your question, humming, “y/n sweetheart, you look like you’re on the brink of passing out.” he tilts his head, observing your flushed expression. if you can’t handle your liquor, he doesn’t mind taking you back home if it means securing your safety.
“am not,” you reply, turning your gaze to him. it’s all thanks to the alcohol that you can do so when in reality you actually struggle to maintain eye contact with him. “you… you haven’t answered my question yet. why’re you here?” your voice is hoarse and you’ve made enough voice cracks to entertain a crowd, but kaeya finds it rather endearing instead.
kaeya could reply honestly. but this conversation is one to be forgotten after you woke up tomorrow morning. he could lie and you would never know he did, but for a reason unknown the lie he was supposed to tell never left his lips. instead he blurts out the plain truth.
“somebody has to be responsible for you, y’know,” kaeya teases you with a grin but his actions are the opposite of his tone. he stands from his seat, pulling your arm over his shoulders to support your weight even when you attempt to resist his help. he keeps your body close to his so you don’t fall over. hopefully you’re drunk enough to be oblivious of the erratic beats of his heart alongside the cautious and warm touch of his hand on your waist.
diluc ragnvindr
he still can’t believe he has such a massive crush on you. it’s almost embarrassing to let others know about this secret because nobody would expect someone like diluc to have a thing for you. it’s even harder to hide that fact when you’re sitting at a table with venti and kaeya. they’re laughing their asses off at some joke you told them.
“cheers to y/n!” venti hollers, cheeks undeniably pink. “you are paying for this, right?” he leans back down momentarily, making you release another burst of laughter from your lungs at the way he mentioned it. “of course!”
after chatting, you decide to greet the man of the house by the bar. it’s been a while since you’ve seen the master diluc of dawn winery anyway. as you get up from the table to make your way over, you accidentally bump into a crowd of big, brawny adventurers who’ve just arrived.
“oh—!” tripping backwards, your hands fail to find something to keep yourself on your feet before your fall is cushioned by someone.
they hold onto your shoulder as your back collides with their chest. the force from being pushed aside has you breathing unsteadily, and it doesn’t help that you’re pretty tipsy right now too. however, despite how tipsy you are, you feel as though air is sucked right out of your lungs when you spot a tuft of crimson red hair from the corner of your eye.
you stand right up immediately, facing the person you fell onto.
“master diluc!” the dazed and naive look on a drunkard's face normally doesn’t appeal to diluc but this expression on yours actually makes you look rather adorable. your eyes are half-lidded and your smile is lopsided, and oh if he could squish those cheeks of yours-
“uh, master diluc?” you blink, toning your voice down a bit.
“oh.” diluc slides out of his mindscape, paying attention to your words. “yes? would you like a drink on the house?” because if you actually asked that, he would have sent one your way on the spot.
you wave your hands dismissively. “n- no no, not that! i was just asking how you were doing. you haven’t stopped by angel’s share since last month, i thought something was up so when i heard you were here today i…” you trail off, realising that you’re rambling and that diluc probably didn’t want to be greeted like this after taking a month off but when you look back at him, he’s still looking at you (and has been since you fell into his arms).
diluc raises his brow when he no longer hears your voice. but when he sees an expectant look in your eyes, he offers you his arm with a smile. “how about you tell me everything by the bar? that way i can serve you properly.”
your cheeks burn like a wild bonfire as you take his arm, now struggling to find excuses to somehow change the topic of conversation because if you continued your sentence from a minute ago, you would have exposed your secret attraction for the man in front of you.
(funny how you don’t even need kaeya or venti to expose you, you’re already the man for the job!)
diluc senses your sudden nervousness at the invitation. he does his best to bite away at the fond smile making its way to his lips. if he can help calm your nerves then maybe you’ll tell him about how much you missed his company at the tavern.
zhongli
zhongli didn’t know that his late night stroll around the streets of chihu rock would include witnessing your drunk state at third-round knockout. the streets have thinned out and it’s rather late too. he wonders what brought you over to the distinguished tavern.
the curious adeptus makes silent haste to peer over your shoulder. a cup in your hand and your head is lolling over. putting two and two together, you must have had your fill of alcohol for tonight.
zhongli finds himself chuckling before neatly folding his hands behind his back. “i wonder how y/n is faring on this wonderful night?”
your head snaps out of your drunken state momentarily, the coherent cells in your brain recognise that voice immediately but your vision is blurry. so instead of being able to greet the gentleman with dignity and grace, you end up tripping over the levelled bricks below you. 
“oh—!”
zhongli is quick to open his arms and catch you, his reflexes still polished despite his retirement as the geo archon. your head bumps into his chest as you grunt at the slight fright. and after regaining your foothold on the bricked ground, it comes to your attention that your body is flat against the man in front of you. more specifically, his arms are wrapped around your waist to keep you steady and your hands are fumbling awkwardly in the air because you don’t know where to put them.
looking up to meet zhongli’s eyes is exactly what you expected but you can never maintain eye contact with him. it’s not your fault he’s so handsome! his kind gesture makes your cheeks warm up, and he probably doesn’t even mean anything out of it but sometimes your mind likes to be a little creative and indulges you in a variety of impossible scenarios.
“archons, zhongli i’m sorry—i didn’t see you i—” 
“it’s not a problem, y/n. shall i walk you home?” zhongli offers, voice gentle and non-judgemental, like you didn’t just trip over a couple of bricks.
you shake your head, earning a raised brow from him. “i only live a few minutes away. plus, look at the time, we’ll look weird.”
“holding you in my arms will not make us look weird, rather i believe this is appropriate for us both. don’t you think?” the way zhongli tilts his head to the dominating tone in his voice makes you feel so small.
“i mean—sure but,” you reply, not daring to look directly into his eyes unless you were going to expose your hidden feelings for him. “but i’m drunk. it’s my fault, i can take myself ho—” your words are caught in your throat when zhongli lifts you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style down the steps and continuing down the street to bring you home.
this extra pinch of boldness is something that lays dormant within zhongli. but it always comes alive when you’re around. he has spent enough time around mortals to pick up the signs of the heart. your reactions to his touch, your flickering gaze and the heat from your face is no brainer. however, he will have to properly communicate with you when you’re sober.
for now, he only hopes that you will disregard the warmth radiating off his neck when you lean in to rest your forehead there.
childe
he’s dancing. dancing to his heart’s content. the band plays the second to last song but the harbinger barely feels like he’s lived up to the heights of the night. he requires more vigour, more energy from his dancing partners. sure, they were all wonderful dancers but he’s really only waiting for someone else to enter his field of vision.
childe knows you’re around here somewhere, you told him personally a week before the ball that you and your father were invited. after all, only the most distinguished noblemen and women were eligible to attend. and you, being the one and only child of one of the leading snezhnayan trade merchants, are an obvious guest on the list of invites.
childe dances, switching and gliding between different and eager dance partners, secretly hoping that the next gloved hand he would take would be yours. unfortunately, for the second to last song, he still doesn’t manage to find you amongst the crowd of participants dancing. so when the music stops he makes sure to return everyone a wave and entertain those who greet him warmly, doing everything in his power to stop the itch of impatience showing on his sweaty face. thankfully, he manages to maintain a calm and composed expression.
childe’s head perks up to a certain sound. amongst the music, the cheers and the clings of wine glasses he recognises a laugh. a laugh, to the extent of his knowledge, only he’s able to get out of you. he brings his wine glass away from his lips, licking the remnants of it from his bottom lip as he captures the sight of you chatting away with other guests.
scanning the guests’ faces, he concludes that they’re harmless thanks to information he was told prior to the event. so he makes his way over, smoothly including himself in conversation just to make an excuse to the other guests to ���borrow your attention’ for a moment.
you take his arm that he offers you, holding your wine glass in your other hand. childe has always been a gentleman towards you, such a passionate person with excellent manners. you’re almost always guaranteed to have a grand time whenever he invites you out (obviously as friends, which you two have made known to the entire town).
“so ajax, tell me about your journey to liyue—” your throat interrupts your speech with a very clear hiccup. “—harbour.” your cheeks burn, quickly apologising for your lack of manners under your breath.
childe hums, loving how you used the name he told you to use when it’s just you and him. “your grace, are you drunk?” he gazes at your flushed face and how your styled hair looks more undone. he thinks you look better this way actually.
“i might be,” you sigh, wanting to hand your glass over to a butler but childe stops you before you can, taking your glass to quickly down the last sips of your beverage.
“ajax, what are you doing?!” you tap his arm repeatedly with concern, telling him to slow down.
you just got that glass a few minutes ago! but besides that, he’s drinking the wine you just had?! what if his lips touch the part yours did on the glass? not that you mind at all—you wouldn’t dare say that out loud but your thoughts are as clear as day on your expression.
childe enjoys the look on your face, satisfied and relieved that you didn’t show a hint of dissatisfaction. “i’ve not had the honour to dance with you tonight.” he passes the empty glass onto a passing butler’s tray. “shall i have the pleasure now?”
kamisato ayato
by this time in the evening, you, thoma and ayaka are probably done playing the hot pot game. which is alright since ayato knew he would return home from business later than usual tonight, but that doesn’t stop him from checking up on all of you. so when he slides the door open to see his faithful retainer, his sister and you sleeping soundly in the designated hot pot room at komore teahouse, the lord cannot help but stifle a fond laugh.
it then comes to his attention that the room reeks of alcohol. oh dear. that explains why everyone’s blacked out.
“‘yato?” he watches you lift your head from the table. ah, you’re still awake… and definitely drunk. no wonder you dropped the formalities all of a sudden. if you were sober you would have rushed to greet him by the door and refer to him by “my lord” despite all the protests he’s made to call you by his first name instead.
ayato hushes you gently, ignoring how his heart skips a beat at the mention of his first name leaving your lips and sits himself beside you. he’s almost taken aback by how you immediately lean onto his body for support. he knew you were an affectionate person but you normally asked before proceeding with anything just in case he felt uncomfortable (surprise! he never did). so seeing this side of you is rather refreshing to his eyes.
“what’re you doing here?” you blink hardly at him but it’s to no avail as the alcohol in your veins distorts your vision.
he brings you closer, gloved hand rising to caress the back of your head. “i just came to visit. however, it didn’t occur to me that you would all have so much fun without my presence.” 
“nonsense!” you claim dramatically, a satisfied smile immediately appearing on ayato’s face at your predictable reaction.
you poke his arm you don’t realise is already sat on your waist. you’re too ready to defend your lord from his own words to notice anyway.
ayato scans your face. lavender eyes find your plumped lips, the thin sheen of sweat along your cheeks and your hair attempting to escape the confines of your hairpin—hold on a moment, he got you that hairpin!
the way ayato has to physically restrain a grin from showing on his face is uncharacteristic of him. he’s noticed that he uncovers new parts of himself whenever you’re beside him. such an interesting person you are…
“we were waiting for you—hic—however, we got a little distracted.” you admit, gesturing at ayaka who sleeps soundly on thoma’s jacket. you look up at ayato through your eyelashes, giving him a lopsided smile.
“i remembered your—hic—advice when you said ayaka can’t drink more than a glass. she might even have it worse than me. but thoma, on the other hand, was a completely different story. that man was a mess!” you move your head to look at thoma’s body sprawled over the floor, ugly giggles leaving the back of your throat at how much of an idiot he looks like right now.
your hair tickles ayato’s chin but he pays no mind to it when he’s so immensely amused by your relaxed nature when drunk.
thoma
thoma mentally checks his list of things to do before retiring for the night. his lord is in his office, accompanied by a freshly made pot of tea, his lady should already be sound asleep and the other retainers are also readying to retire too. he sighs to himself, patting his jacket down as he heads to the kitchen to finalise his cleaning.
when he enters the kitchen, he is baffled at the sight in front of him. he stares blankly for a moment to process it.
there’s remnants of sake dripping out of a tipped-over tokkuri and his lover who plays with the o-choko absentmindedly with their finger, drawing invisible lines along the rim. thoma stifles a giggle, a curled finger covering his lips.
his giggle sends your consciousness back into focus. you only have the power to tilt your head ever so slightly to the right, your movements pausing on the o-choko when your gaze falls upon the view of your lover.
“tho—ma,” your cracked voice calls for him, making him rush toward you in such fondness so he could pinch your cheeks.
“oh, y/n, what are you doing?” thoma asks as giggles leave his lips, watching you squint at him dazedly. “it’s dripping from the corner of your lips as well!” he takes a napkin, sitting next to you to wipe it away gently.
“wh- where’ve you been, pretty?” your words are slurred but thoma hears you perfectly well.
the pet name makes him blush, but you’re too drunk to notice. “i’ve been doing my job—oh, honey—” he huffs when he brings you to lean on him instead. the longer you lay your head on the table, the more you’ll want to throw up later (and thoma makes sure to prevent that from happening).
you giggle at the little voice crack you hear when he calls you by your pet name, leaning onto his chest as your head rests on his shoulder blade. taking advantage of this position, thoma presses a cool ceramic cup filled with water by your lips and when you lazily open your eyes, you see that it’s the glass that’s been sitting on the side from earlier.
“drink up, honey.” you can’t refuse such a request when it’s mumbled so affectionately by your ear. you’re probably even warm at your cheeks from it, but then again, the sake has kept your cheeks warm for a while. you can’t even tell anymore.
after taking a few sips of water, your throat feels fresh and renewed—if thoma heard your thoughts, he would deadpan at you and say “y/n. it’s called getting hydrated” in a sassy little voice. this scenario amuses you and it causes a small laugh to leave your lips.
above you, thoma is confused. “what are you thinking about?” he asks curiously with a smile.
as you rest your head on thoma’s shoulder again, you reply, “you. i’m just thinking about you.”
tighnari
a shout from outside tighnari’s lodging brings his attention away from his documents, brows furrowing and pushing himself up from his chair to see why his forest rangers are making such a fuss at an ungodly hour (yes, tighnari was awake at said ungodly hour but that wasn’t because he was with his fellow rangers after a night out!).
“tighnari, we’re back!” a drunk forest watcher waves and yells at the figure of tighnari, who has his arms crossed in front of him.
a sigh leaves tighnari’s mouth, one of exhaustion, to be precise. “do you intend to wake all of gandharva ville up? go find yourselves home and rest.” he turns around to head back inside until another forest watcher pipes up.
“wait, tighnari! y/n’s black out drunk!” a female forest watcher, who’s eyes can’t even look at a single point any longer due to the alcohol running in her veins, displays your figure with your arm dangling over her shoulders. “you need to take them back, i don’t know where they live!”
tighnari raises a brow and chuckles, shaking his head. “yet you’re sober enough to tell me this.” he walks towards the group of drunkards and collects you easily from the forest watcher, carefully placing your arm over his shoulders while his other hand holds your hip.
you barely know where you are and what’s happening but it appears that your assigned guardian angel for the night has retired and put you in more capable hands—or, arms. you blink in an attempt to gather knowledge of your surroundings but it’s to no avail when everything is a blur of darkness with hints of warm light from the dew lights.
a grunt escapes your lips in slight frustration as you walk away with this other person, but they’re quick to hush you gently and in a soft voice you hear, “i promise we’re almost there, just walk with me, okay?”
“yeah, okay,” you reply promptly but to tighnari’s ears, he’s never heard such a tone in your voice ever since you were recruited. his heart skips a beat and his ear twitches along. it’s rare to see you so vulnerable and he can tell you have no idea that he’s the one carrying you back to… well, his lodging. because your lodging is simply too far away (it’s only a bridge away) and he can’t have you walking any longer when you look like you’re on the verge of passing out! 
he doesn’t know what’s gotten into him when his gloved hand holds onto your forearm to keep your body steady against his as he walks you to his lodging. his body is going against him and his heart can only take the blame for such ridiculous delusions. what does he think he will get out of this?
he’s just your chief forest watcher, that’s all he will ever be to you—is what tighnari thinks. but in reality, you only went out with the others to spiral in alcohol due to your failed attempts of romancing your handsome superior. it seemed that the sumeru roses and the letter you left at his doorstep were blown away by the wind (you had to commit blasphemy on that day and curse the anemo archon), the pita pockets you made for him were stolen away by some petty treasure hoarders when you weren’t looking and overall, your thoughts were a mess thinking about your failed attempts. it was like your beloved archon forgot to bless you with wisdom to avoid these situations.
“see! i told you he had a soft spot for them!”
“it’s so obvious the feelings mutual, i can’t believe they didn’t believe us.”
“they’re literally the only one who can’t see it!”
tighnari clears his throat loud enough for the group to hear him. he turns around and gives them a pointed look until they’re all skipping away to their respective lodgings.
he glances at your drunken face for a brief moment and smiles to himself, continuing to walk you back.
it appears that all his worries were meaningless.
kaveh
the sight of you leaning against the door to his home almost makes his soul fly right out of his body.
“hello y/n, i thought we were meeting for dinner?” but when kaveh finally makes it to where you are, you are nowhere near sober. no wonder your figure was leaning against the wood so flimsily. you were akin to a ragdoll at this point. “great heavens, is the end of the world upon us? why are you drunk before me?” he hesitantly collects you in his arms while mehrak hovers beside him. he can’t have you just leaning like that!
“went to… birthday party… drinks…”
that’s enough information to bring kaveh up to speed with the situation. but also… why did you decide to go to his house?! was it instinctive?
kaveh cringes at his thoughts and opens the door with his free hand while his other hand supports you by your waist (he can feel his palm warming up to the touch on your body and it’s making the poor man sweat). “come on in, let’s sober you up.” 
when you’re sat nicely on the couch, your eyes are still closed with zero awareness of your surroundings. how your head suddenly tilts backwards at such speed almost brings the most horrific yelp out of kaveh, he’s relieved to know his reflexes are still sharp enough to have caught your head before it snapped right off your neck.
“archons, you’re going to give me a heart attack!” he holds the back of your head and somehow manages to bring your body to lean against the spine of the couch. he doesn’t forget to put a pillow behind your back either, because you being drunk doesn’t mean you’re drunk enough to not feel discomfort.
after collecting himself from that scare, he returns with a cup of water, hands carefully hovering it in front of your lips. “here, drink up,” he says but you keep moving your mouth away from the cup that it’s slowly beginning to irritate him.
“y/n, you need to sober up if you’re going to walk home later,” he tells you in a more serious voice which makes you groan, throwing your head forward into your hands.
“you don’t understand.”
“what don’t i understand?”
what am i doing here? i swear i was in front of my friend's place… how is it that my drunk feet led me here? out of all the places on this continent, why did i take myself to the one place i’m trying to avoid?!
kaveh raises a brow and puts down the glass of water. “is something wrong, y/n? i haven’t even seen you since last week.”
“i’ve been… busy…” trying to keep my feelings at bay!
“i see,” kaveh responds before adding, “do you still feel drunk?”
“i wouldn’t say i’m drunk to the point of passing out—i did feel like that earlier but now that i’m sitting i can at least participate in conversation.” you remove your face from your hands.
why is his face so pink? you think to yourself, grabbing the glass of water from the table to take a sip before leaning back with your free arm supporting you. you grin to yourself, feeling a little cheeky.
you offer the glass of water you just drank from to kaveh, hovering it in front of his lips and you swear you almost watch his eyes fall out of their eye sockets.
“what—what are you doing?!” kaveh’s voice shakes and you let out this cute drunken giggle that makes his heart leap. 
“i know i’m the one drunk, but for some reason you look drunk without even having drinks!”
kaveh touches his face and he purses his lips. his cheeks are so used to being hot from being in your presence that he didn’t even realise!
“allow me to assist you.” you lean your body a little closer so you can press the chilled glass of water against kaveh’s cheek.
his bottom lip falls and quivers when you lean closer towards him. last time you were this close, you were putting medication on his face after a run in with fungi.
the coldness of the glass somehow gives him time to think to himself—rationally. maybe in this moment right now he could…
“thank you, y/n.” you’ve never heard this tone in kaveh’s voice, it’s unfamiliar and so… tender. what he does next makes you finally meet his scarlet eyes.
a warm hand wraps around your wrist that holds the glass to his cheeks, your skin immediately lights up in fire at the contact. it makes you gulp so embarrassingly loudly before him.
he leans into the coolness of the glass, gazing at you with such gentle eyes that it’s tempting you to look away. as his thumb gently caresses your skin, he smiles. “it helps.”
wanderer
wanderer returns to his home a little later than usual tonight. he made sure to leave a note on the dining table to let you know of his whereabouts for the day. he knows you have the propensity to worry about him, despite his claims that he’ll be perfectly fine because of how well-versed he is in the arts of defence (and nasty attacks). which is why he left the note on the table, and he acknowledges how it was moved to another spot on the table from this morning.
you’ve seen it. he thinks to himself and now he wonders where you are. you’re not normally out at this time and from your cute daily schedule reports you tell him before bed, he doesn’t remember you mentioning that you would be out until this time. or if you were going out with friends.
that’s alright. wanderer can wait.
the tapping of his own foot is driving the man on edge. it’s been two whole hours—the sun is far beneath the horizon and the birds are already snoring. where the hell are you? wanderer cannot do this anymore, he rises from his seat and takes flight with his anemo abilities.
the city is rather easy to navigate at this height. in the dark, the city is at least still lit up by streetlights and with the help of one nearby lambad’s tavern, he spots your curled figure sitting on the floor very easily.
he hovers over the cement before landing smoothly on his feet. “what are you doing here at this time? it’s so late,” wanderer remarks with irritation, standing in front of you with his arms folded. he stares at your figure with a frown.
“h-huh?” your voice comes out hoarse, lifting your head and your eyes slowly make out the figure of wanderer. “o-oh it’s youi… where’ve you been?” you manage to say despite how the world shakes around you.
“tch, what do you—” wanderer stops himself, raising a brow then finally taking the time to scan your face and posture and it hits him.
you’re fucking drunk.
“you’re insane,” wanderer scoffs, kneeling down to silently take a closer look at your face and body for any drunkenly bruises. “do you even know what time it is? i was waiting for you.” he doesn’t exactly know what to do with his hands but he decides to offer you one to help you get up on your feet.
“you think i’m insane but really, you’re the one doing insane things all the time! you know, like fighting fatui agents in the rain… to avenge a bird!” you put emphasis on the word ‘bird’ and wanderer scoffs at the finger you point at him.
“it was in danger,” he replies simply before sighing, “but that’s not the point. you’re drunk outside at a time like this so i’ll be taking you home now.”
talking to him magically makes you more sober with every passing second. you decide to play with him a little, leaning back on the brick wall as the crease in your brow melts away. “ooh, shouldn’t you take me on a date first?”
wanderer groans, pulling his hand back. he’s never had to deal with you drunk before! so he thinks for a moment, and he stands tall on his feet, turning his head the other direction. “if this is how you will continue to act then i will leave you to your own devices, however if you come back crawling to me—”
wanderer almost gasps at your figure suddenly standing beside him, steady on your feet as you give him a hard and long stare. “you don’t have to tell me twice about how you wait for me at home, i’m well aware of that. complain all you want about me but your words aren’t consistent with your actions, my love.” you slide your hand down his arm to reach for his hand as you lean your head on his shoulder.
you feel him tilt his face in the other direction. curious, you briefly lift your head for a moment to spot your pretty artificial lover gritting his teeth as a sheet of pink blankets his cheeks.
“fool,” he whispers, but there is no malice behind it.
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alisonwritesimagines · 7 months
Text
This Night is Sparkling, Don't You Let it Go ~LA! Shanks Imagine~
Summary: The moment Luffy gets his own bounty poster, Shanks makes the decision to come back to you.
Author’s Note: Not as long as the angst one but at least this is the fluff ending.
Fluff Ending to I Was Enchanted to Meet You
Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her
Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex
Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!
Do not repost this anywhere!
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“I’m going to be king of the pirates and I promise that I will find Shanks and you two can live with me in an island or I can get you two your own island so you two can be happy,” Luffy tells you.
“Focus on becoming King of the Pirates first then you can worry about me," you tell him.
"I promise I'll make you proud. I won't forget what you and Shanks taught me," Luffy said.
You watched as Luffy was ready to set off in the world to become king of the pirates. He had told you two days before that he was leaving and that he had gotten a small boat ready. You felt nervous on letting him go off but you knew that he would not change his mind once he had his mind set.
“And I promise to be safe. I’ll send you letters of my adventures!”
“Or you could always come back and visit me,” you tell him.
“I will do that too!”
“Luffy. Please be careful,” you tell him.
“I will. And thank you. For taking care of me for all these years,” Luffy said.
“Of course.”
“I’ll see you again soon! And I’ll bring back some awesome stuff for you!” Luffy said before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. He got on his boat and began to sail off.
-
A few weeks later, you saw Luffy’s bounty poster in the newspaper. You stared at his photo as you fiddled with the ring Shanks gave you.
You were alone now. Luffy was off being a pirate and Shanks was God knows where. You leaned your head on your head as you stared down at the photo. You missed your boys and now that you were alone, what was left for you to do?
"You okay, Y/n?" Makino asked you.
"Just missing my boys," you tell her.
"At least you know how Luffy's doing," she said. You smile softly before nodding.
-
“Gents! We are setting sail!” Shanks called out after drinking another pint of beer.
“Where to captain?”
“Windmill Village! I need to pick up someone from there,” Shanks told his crew.
“You mean Y/n?”
“Of course I do. Let’s go get her shall we?”
-
You gathered your vegetables from your garden before walking back to your home. You began to separate them for ones to keep and ones to sell. Now that Luffy was gone, you had more food to sell.
A faint knock at the door was heard making you look over. You walked to the door to find Shanks standing there. Your eyes widen as you stared at him.
“Shanks?”
“You’re just as beautiful as the day I left,” Shanks said before cupping your cheek and leaning in to kiss you.
“Wait! Did you find the one piece? Why are you here? Am I dreaming?” You asked, a million questions ran through your head.
“Haven't found the one piece yet. But I am here to take my fiancée away from here."
“Shanks-“
“I saw Luffy’s bounty poster. And I knew that meant you’re no longer taking care of him. So join me, my love.”
“Shanks. I don’t know.”
“Please. I cannot bare another day without you. Join me and I promise you to give you everything you could ever ask for,” Shanks tells you. You leaned up to kiss him again before pulling him into your home with his shirt. He closed the door behind him, locking it with his one hand.
“I’ll join you Shanks. But first, I need you to touch me again,” you tell him as you began to undo the knot on his cape.
“Of course my love. I'm all yours."
-
“I’ve missed you so much,” you tell him as you cuddled up next to him. There was only one perk of Shanks having one arm. You can lie close to him without worrying about making his arm hurt or fall asleep.
“I’ve missed you too. You’re all that I thought of,” Shanks tells you.
“Same here. I should leave a note for Luffy for when he decides to visit,” you mention as you looked around your home.
“Of course.”
As you packed your bags, you looked around at your home. You began to tear up as you stared at a few pictures of you and Luffy.
“You’ll see him again my love,” Shanks said, kissing your head.
“I know. But I just can’t help but think what would happen if Luffy came home and he needs help?”
“He’s a grown boy now, Y/n. And even then, we can always come back here if you need to,” Shanks told you. You nodded before kissing him once more.
“Though I’d like to marry you before we set sail,” Shanks mentioned as he held your hand.
“I’d love that.”
Once you were packed up, you two headed to the village. You dropped off the vegetables to Makino while one of Shanks’s crew members brought your stuff to Shanks’s room. You wore a white dress as requested by Shanks.
“Shall we get married?” Shanks asked you.
“Who’s going to officiate?”
“My crew got the priest to quickly rush over so we can marry before we set sail.”
“You planned this didn’t you?”
“Darling, I knew I wanted to make you mine forever the moment I decided to come back to you.”
You smiled at Shanks before kissing him once more.
Shanks’s crew and a few of your close friends were your witnesses to your small and quick wedding. But it didn’t matter if it wasn’t a traditional wedding. You had each other and that’s all that mattered.
While the crew celebrated in the village, you and Shanks were enjoying each other’s company in his room on his ship. The two of you didn't wait any time to consummate your marriage together.
Shanks lied awake as you slept soundly next to him. After six rounds, you were knocked out. Shanks smiled as he kissed your forehead, finally being able to relax now that you were in his arms.
“I love you so much my love,” Shanks tells you.
“If it isn’t my lovely wife,” Shanks smiled as you waddled over to him.
You were eight months pregnant and Shanks was more than happy for you to be carrying his child. He quickly greeted you in the middle before kissing you on the lips.
“How is my beautiful wife?” Shanks asked you.
“I feel fat,” you tell him honestly.
“Nonsense. You’re still the most gorgeous woman in my eyes,” Shanks said.
“Plus it doesn’t help that the sea is making me sick again,” you tell him as you felt queasy.
“We’ll be docking again back home my love,” Shanks assured you before kissing you once more.
“Are you sure you're okay with staying in the village until the baby is born?" You asked him.
"Of course. I'd do anything for our family," Shanks said before kissing your head.
"Daddy! Come on!" Your five year old son called out as he ran towards the ocean.
"Don't go too far or else you'll give your mother a heart attack," Shanks chuckled as he carried his one year old daughter in his arm.
"Why doesn't anyone wait for me?" You complained as you waddled over towards your family.
"I'm here for you," Shanks said as he waited for you. Though you had two kids already, you were expecting one more.
"You did this to me," you joked as you pointed a finger at him.
"I don't recall you complaining about it," Shanks smiled before giving you a quick kiss.
"Mom! Can we have a bonfire later?" Your son asked you.
"Yeah. Of course baby," you nodded.
Shanks and you sat on chairs next to your son as he built a sandcastle. You smiled at Shanks as he smiled down at your daughter.
"I got a letter from Luffy. Said he plans on visiting us next month with his crew," you tell Shanks.
"Oh good. Haven't seen him in a while," Shanks said.
"I know. I'm happy to see him and his pirate crew together. Remember when he always asked for you to take him into your crew?" You asked Shanks.
"Those were the good old days," Shanks laughed a little.
"Yeah. I'm glad you came back to me sooner."
"I'm glad to. I could never imagine a life without," Shanks tells you before leaning in to kiss you.
1K notes · View notes
iateyourparents · 4 months
Note
could you please do a jake imagine where the reader is in a band but is really timid on camera please ? <3
pretty girl | j.w.
pairing: jake webber x fem!reader
summary: you’re nervous before recording a music video and your boyfriend is there to help you.
warnings: bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry, english isn’t my first language), not proofread
an: thank you! hope you like it <33
pictures are from pinterest:)
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You were nervous. Only thing stopping you from walking out of this room was Jake holding you in his arms.
You weren’t a shy person, not in real life anyway. But something about cameras was making you unsure. What if you won’t have any good takes? Or what if you mess up, nobody will notice and people will see you doing something weird?
Just thinking about all possible fails made you want to cry.
“Calm down love. I can hear a river of your thoughts in your head from here.” Jake whispered into your ear.
You were together with Jake since before you and your three close friends decided to give being a band shot, so they all knew Jake and knew he wouldn’t disturb or distract anyone while you all would be recording your music video.
They also knew, if he wouldn’t be here, you probably would walk out of the room the minute you saw the set and all the cameras there. He was like your emotional support dog.
He was your emotional support boyfriend.
“What if…” you wanted to list all of the possibilities how you could mess up but Jake shushed you with a kiss.
“No what if. You’re great, beautiful and you will do better than just fine. It will come out like a one big slay.” he assured you “You’re my pretty girl, there’s no other possibility than you being just perfect.”
You sighed but felt nice warm and butterflies in your stomach. His words actually helped and his tight hug made you feel so much better.
“Alright, are we ready to start?” the producer walked into the room clapping his hands. You looked nervously in your boyfriend’s eyes but he only smiled encouragingly and left a quick kiss on your nose before lightly pushing you towards your bandmates.
You actually felt calmer than before and with steady footsteps you walked onto the set and you took your place on the set. Some workers gave you a diary and a pen so you could pretend to be writing something.
In some other parts of music video you were all in a ‘garage’ practicing. You were a lead singer so you were standing in front of everyone and that made you kinda nervous but Jake sitting in the back of the room with big proud smile, looking at you like you were some wonder, made you feel brave.
You continued recording and it wasn’t that bad. Few times you had to ask for a break so you could go to Jake for more kisses end encouragement but other than that it all went smooth and you were quickly done with recording.
“Alright guys, you did amazing.” producer smiled at all four of you “Remember to be here tomorrow 12 am straight. We have to record the song so we can add it to the video!” he reminded and after saying your goodbyes you all went to the dressing room where Jake was already waiting with your jacket.
“You did so good baby!” he looked like an excited kid getting his dream toy and you could feel a blush tinting your cheeks.
“You think so?”
“Absolutely!” he nodded vigorously “And you looked so hot.” You laughed but thanked him and then you pulled him into a kiss.
“Thank you for being here and being my emotional support boy.”
“I can be your emotional support boy whenever you want, pretty girl.” he kissed the side of your head “Ready to go eat something?”
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xxspringmelodyxx · 2 months
Text
Why Her and Not Me?
Gojo Satoru x F!Reader (Angst)
I’m back with the angst everyone! I think I am planning on making this a multiple series…because I have a few ideas! Please let me know what you all think! I love hearing from you :) Anyways, onto the story!
Part II
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I stared in the oven, watching the strawberry cake slowly come to a rise. I looked at the time and saw that there were only 10 minutes left before I could take it out, so I took this opportunity to start filling my mochi. I grabbed the rice dough and flattened it out, grabbing my freshly made whipped cream and Zunda.
I loaded up the dough with zunda, adding the whipped cream right after. Carefully, I folded the dough up into a cute little ball, setting it down on a plate next to me. One by one, I arranged them in a neat row on the plate, their green pastel colors and smooth surfaces creating an inviting display that begged to be sampled.
There were exactly 10 balls, all for a special someone.
Just as you finished, you heard the back door of your shop open up. You looked over to see Utahime. I smiled in her direction, greeting her.
”Hey Hime! What brings you here?” You asked, hearing the ding of your oven go off.
“I wanted to see if that idiot was over here bugging you.” She said, looking around for Toru. I smiled softly at the mention of his name, seeing her give me a look of disgust.
”Ugh, out of all the boys you could have fallen for, why did it have to be him? Can’t I persuade you to fall in love with someone else? Literally anyone else.” She said, looking at all the sweets I made. I turned the oven off, grabbing the cake and placing it on the counter to cool off.
“Oh come on, Hime. He’s not that bad. He’s actually very sweet once you get past his cocky facade." I defended, my voice softening as I thought about the moments of genuine kindness I had witnessed from him.
”Are you sure we’re talking about the same Gojo Satoru?” She asked, grabbing a cupcake from the plate.
”Cut him some slack, Hime. Hes got so much pressure on him, it only makes sense for him to act the way he does. I know I would’ve gone absolutely insane if I were in his position.” You said, snatching the cupcake from her hand as she was about to eat it.
”Hey! I wanted to eat that.” She whined, making you roll your eyes at her.
”these are for my customers.” You said, placing the cupcake back on the plate.
“Besides, I already made a plate for you next to the fridge.” You said with a smile, placing the cupcakes in a box for pickup. Hime looked over to the fridge to see a pile of various treats, making her eyes sparkle and mouth salivate.
”Y/n, you are literally the best person in the whole wide world!” She said, grabbing a strawberry muffin.
“I know.” You said, going back to check on your cake.
As Hime stuffed her face with the muffin, she looked over to see the kikufuku neatly displayed on a plate.
“Y/n, when are you going to ask him?” She said with her mouth stuffed. You looked over to her with a confused face.
”What are you talking about?”
Now it was her turn to roll her eyes.
”Oh come on, Y/n. When are you going to finally confess your feelings to Gojo??”
You looked back down at your cake, a frown making its way to your face.
”I…I don’t know, Hime.” You said.
”If you don’t do it soon, it could be too late. Y/n, I am only telling you this because I know how much you love Gojo…even though I find it hard to believe that a sweet girl such as yourself finds someone like him irresistible.” She said, walking up to you. She placed a hand on your shoulder, making you face her.
”What if…what if he doesn’t see me that way? What if I confess to him, only for him to reject me and ruin our friendship? I don’t want that…” You said, looking into her eyes.
She scoffed.
”If Gojo doesn’t see how lucky he is to have someone like you fall in love with him, he’s more of an idiot than I thought.” She said, trying to hype you up.
”You two are inseparable. I swear, anytime I see Gojo without you, its like his whole day is ruined. But the moment you show up, its as if he saw a miracle appear right before his eyes. You quite literally make his day better, Y/n.” She said sternly.
”You really think so?” You asked, starting to feel hopeful.
“Absolutely! There is no way anyone could deny that. Honestly, its kind of sickening how cute you two are together. It almost makes me jealous because you're my best friend.” She said, making you laugh.
”Hime, I never you took you as the jealous type~” You teased, making her smirk.
”Shut up. All I am saying is when you two do become a couple, you better still make time for me. I don’t care if Gojo gets mad, I will steal you away if you don’t hang out with me for a long time.” She said
”you’re starting to sound like Shoko, now. She told me the same thing not too long ago” You snorted.
”well she’s right. We had you first. Gojo was the last to have you, so by common knowledge, your besties get your time first before him.” She said, making you smile at her.
”Oh, Hime. If Toru and I do actually become a thing, I promise you I will never abandon you two. Honestly, if it weren't for you girls, I would have never gotten this close to Toru. After all, chicks before dicks.” You joked, copying what Shoko said the other day.
She chuckled, hearing the back door open once more.
”Sup bitches.” Shoko said, making you both shake your heads at her.
”Nice of you to show up, Shoko. Y/n is about to confess to Gojo of her undying love for him.” Hime teased,making you tense up.
”What?! When did I say that?!” You asked, whipping your head around towards the two of them.
”Fina-fucking-Lly. It’s been like five years and you two still haven’t gotten anywhere. I feel like I’m going insane just watching the two of you, especially with the sexual tension going on between you two.” Shoko said, making your face heat up.
”S-Shut up Shoko! You have no idea what you are talking about.”
”So how are you going to confess to him?” She asked, smirking at your face.
”Easy, she is going to go straight up to him with the kikufuku in her hands and look him I straight in the eyes. Then, she will hold onto him desperately and confess her love for him.” Hime said, teasing you a bit.
”Oh, Toru~ I love you so much I can’t think straight! I need you so bad in my life~” Shoko continued, mimicking your voice.
”Then come here baby and lets make love alllll night~” Hime said with a deepened voice, mimicking Toru.
”I do not sound like that, Shoko.” You said, making them both laugh.
“Plus…a part of me still has a bad feeling. I don’t know if he thinks of me that way.” You said, your grip on the counter tightening.
Shoko and Hime suddenly stopped and walked towards you.
”Hey, look at me.” Shoko said, forcing you to look in her direction.
”It’s going to be alright. I already told you last time, there is no way he thinks of you as just a friend. He literally talks about you all the time that even I get tired of hearing about you.” She said.
”Yeah, and the way his eyes light up even more just by the simple mention of your name? Its so obvious he likes you.” Hime followed.
”But…maybe that is just him being…well himself.” You said, trying to come up with excuses.
”Y/n, there is no doubt in my mind that he is head over heels for you just as you are for him.” Shoko responded.
Suddenly, you heard the bell ring from the main entrance of your bakery shop.
”Y/n! Come out here, I need to ask you something.” You heard a familiar voice yell. You felt your heart race at the sound of his warm voice. Your body tensed up even more as you felt your body basically freeze.
”What are you waiting for!?” Shoko asked. Hime grabbed the Mochi you made for Toru and placed them in your hands.
“Go out there and tell him! This is the perfect chance!” They both saiid, pushing you out to the front.
You tried to go back in, but they locked the door, forcing you to stay out there.
“Y/n?” You heard his voice once more, making you freeze again.
“Is everything alright?” He asked, one of his eyebrows rising.
You slowly turned around, finally coming face to face with the tall white haired man.
He looked down at you, his confused face slowly turning into one of happiness as he saw the kikufuku in your hands.
”Is that…what I think it is?” He asked, almost salivating at the sight of it. He loved your baking, no matter what it was. But when you made him his favorite snack, it was something different.
”Uh, yeah! I did. I figured you’d want some since it had been a while since the last time I made it.” You said, walking around the counter, making your way towards him.
You placed the dish in his hands, feeling his fingers brush against yours. You quickly pulled your hands back, almost dropping the dish. Thankfully, Toru had quick reactions and caught it before it fell.
”woah there, no need to be so nervous! You know I love your baking!” He said, instantly stuffing his mouth with one of the mochi balls.
”Mmmm. They are perfect! You even made them with the perfect amount of filling!” He said, making your heart flutter at his reaction.
”I remember you complaining about another shop putting too much in. I wanted to make sure it was just right for you.” You said sheepishly.
”You mean you actually listened to me?” He asked, chuckling at you.
”Of course. I do actually care about what you say, you know.” You replied, looking up at him.
”Oh I’m touched.” He teased, setting the plate down on a nearby table.
“So what was it that you wanted to ask me?” You asked
Suddenly, his whole demeanor changed after you asked. It was weird.
He looked down at you and fidgeted with his hands, making you look up at him with concern.
”Toru?”
“Y/n…do you know what it feels like to…love someone?” He asked, making you blink your eyes up at him.
”Well…I mean…yes…yes I do.” You said, making him look you in the eyes.
”Then maybe you can help me.” he said, making you look up at him confused.
”help you?”
He sat down at the table near him, you following suit.
”There is…this girl. And every time I am around her, I feel nervous. It’s like my hands get clammy and I feel my heart skip a beat just from the mention of her name.” He said.
After he said that, you started to feel your heart race again, heat rising to your face. Was he…was he talking about you?
”Just looking at her makes me feel all tingly inside…and I always long to be around her…” He finished.
”Is…is that what it feels like to…be in love? Feeling like you want to be around that person all the time? Feeling excited every day because you get to see them?” He asked, making you smile a bit. You nodded your head.
”Yes…it is. At least, to me it is. After all, that’s how I feel about y-“ You started, but quickly shut up, not ready to confess to him just yet.
“Hmmm.” He said, lost in thought.
”Toru? Are you okay?” You asked, feeling hopeful. He looked deep into your eyes and a small smile slowly formed.
”Yeah…I am. I…I never thought it possible, but I think I may have feelings for her.” He said, mumbling a bit.
”Oh?” You asked, hoping this was the part where he confessed everything to you.
”You remember Osaka? The girl who just moved here and joined us?” He began, making you come out of your senses. Osaka moved in from a small village hundreds of miles from here. It had been almost a year since then and it was needless to say that her and Toru hit it off really well…but you figured it was just him being nice to her…
”Yes…why?” You asked, not liking where this was going.
”Well…because I think…I think I might like her…” He said, a small smile making its way towards his face. However, while he was thinking of Osaka and feeling his heart beat faster, you felt yours shatter.
“You…like…Osaka?” You asked, tears starting to fill up in your eyes. He looked up at you, not noticing the water beginning to form in your eyes.
”I…I think so…no. I know so! I mean, just hearing her voice…it makes me crazy. I’ve never felt this way before. It feels…nice.” He said, getting lost in his mind.
”I see.” You said, swallowing hard. It hurt so bad. It felt as if you were swallowing nails and sharp razors down.
”I think I am gonna go and talk to her…see what she says.” He said, confidence filling up inside of him.
”T-talk to her about what?” You asked, your voice breaking a bit.
”Talk to her about how I feel, silly. I mean, I’m pretty sure she feels the same way. I don’t think anyone could love me as much as she does.” He said.
”I do…” You thought as he said those words. He quickly got up, pride and excitement filling up inside of him.
”I’m gonna go do it! I’m gonna go tell her everything. tell her how I feel for her! How much I long for her!” He said, quickly leaving.
“Thanks for the talk, Y/n! You really are a good friend!” He said, quickly leaving. You just sat there, staring at the plate of Kikufuku you made for him. Tears piled up in your eyes and you couldn’t hold it back anymore. You quickly got up and ran to the back, letting it all out. Shoko and Hime ran towards you and caught you in their arms as you fell towards them.
”Y/n! What happened?” Shoko asked with worry.
”I knew it…I was such an idiot for thinking he would ever love me.” You sobbed quietly.
”W-What?” Hime asked, confused.
”He…He doesn’’t…He doesn’t…fuck!” You whispered as you felt yourself begin to hyperventilate
“Breathe, Y/n. Hey look at me. Breathe.” Shoko said, breathing in and out with you, trying to get you under control.
After a few minutes of that, you were able to get yourself under control…however, you still felt awful. You felt like life just got sucked out of you. Shoko and Hime were by your side the entire time, hugging you as you calmed down.
”He…He said he fell in love…but with someone else.” You whispered, broken from the memory replaying in your head.
”Who?” Hime asked, baffled that Toru would pick someone else over you.
”Osaka…”
”Osaka?? You mean that new girl who just joined us?? There is no way-“
”It’s true, Shoko. You think I would make something like that up??” You asked, staring at her through your watery eyes.
”Y/n…I am so sorry.” Hime said, completely in disbelief.
”I didn’t think he would be that much of an idiot.” She said, hugging you tightly.
“I can’t believe it…he constantly talks about you during our missions. It doesn't make any sense.” Shoko said, hugging you as well.
”And he constantly flirted around with you, too!” Hime said.
You were completely heartbroken, feeling nothing but emptiness. However, Shoko and Hime were livid. Satoru Gojo had hurt their best friend…and what worse is he was totally leading her on!
“Come on.” Shoko said, pulling you up to your feet.
Hime went out to the front and closed the shop early.
”What are you doing?” You asked softly.
”We are all going out. We need to get your mind off of he who shall not be named.” Shoko said, turning everything off in the kitchen and bringing you your jacket.
”I don’t know Shoko. I’d rather just go home.” You said.
”That’s okay. We can go to my place and just hang out. We can have a girls night and watch movies, eat all sorts of food, all that fun stuff!” She suggested. However, you shook your head. You pushed yourself away from her, grabbing your keys.
”No Shoko…I…I just need to be alone…please.” You said, not wanting to argue. Shoko looked at you with worry. She didn’t want to leave you alone, not like this especially.
”Y/n, we-“
”Please, Shoko. I need you to understand…I…I need to be alone for right now.” You spoke, opening the back door and walking out.
Shoko tried to go after you, but she stopped in her footsteps. She knew you wanted to be alone, but she didn't want to leave you alone. But she also knew that you needed it to collect your own thoughts.
Hime came back and asked Shoko where you went. She explained everything and Hime understood.
”Let’s give her a couple of hours, then we will go to her place.” She suggested, making Shoko nod.
——
You drove towards you house, tears falling down your eyes as quiet sobs slipped from your mouth. You never imagined heartbreak could be this bad…you never imagined the day where you would get your heart absolutely crushed. It hurt so much to the point where you felt pains in your chest. It stung so bad, almost like someone was snipping each string in your heart.
thoughts of Toru and Osaka began to pop up in your head, along with questions.
What did she have that you didn’t? Was it her face? Her hair? Her personality? Her strength? Her charisma? What was it??
All of these questions rushed through your head, yet you could never come up with a proper answer…not unless you asked Toru himself…though that was the last thing you wanted to do. For the first time in your life, you found yourself wanting nothing to do with him. You didn’t want to hear his name, his voice, nor did you want to see him. It would just hurt too much.
You noticed the weather beginning to change. Clouds began to circle above you, getting ready to start dropping rain.
Damn it!
You tried to get your emotions under control, but no matter what you did, the tears wouldn’t stop. The heartache wouldn’t stop.
You knew you couldn’t do anything about it, thus rain began to fall…and hard.
———-
You finally made it back to your house. You quickly ran inside and ran to your bedroom. You flopped onto your bed and let it all go.
The rain outside just fell harder and faster, causing people to rush either to their cars or back to their homes.
Your puppy ran up to you and began to lick your face, noticing something was wrong.
You looked down at him, seeing him look up at you with a tilted head.
You patted your bed, inviting him to come cuddle with you.
He snuck his way under your arm, snuggling up to you. You began to hold onto him tightly. The warmth and softness of his fur felt good against your skin, causing you to slowly drift away to sleep.
though, while you felt yourself succumb to the sleepiness, one thing lingered in your mind as you closed your eyes.
”Why her…and not me…”
_____________________
Part II??
Taglist?
671 notes · View notes
sxcretricciardo · 2 months
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F1 Hit Couple
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Daniel Ricciardo x Reader
You are now sitting in front of the cameras for the Netflix series Drive to Survive. You’re already a pro, being here since the first season, this is easy for you. But, this is gonna be the first time that you and Daniel get both interviewed as a couple.
You’re scrolling trough instagram on your phone when the door opens and Daniel steps in.
“Sorry for being late, mate” Danny says to the producer. You swear you fall in love with his Australian accent everyday. The team mics him up and then he sits beside you and gives you a passionate kiss. You haven’t seen each other in a week since he had to go to Australia because of his mother.
“It’s okay, Daniel. Well, we can get started then.” The producer says, smiling and the cameras start rolling.
“So, how did you guys meet?” The producer asks.
“Well, I had just entered the F1 joining Renault for the 2017 season. I had just came from F2 where I was champion and Renault took a chance with me and I happily accepted. I knew the team was expecting the best of me and I made sure to not let them down. Daniel was the second one to meet me, the first was Nico, obviously” You say, laughing. The crew laughed alongside you. “And he came down to our garage to meet the new driver. I guess everyone was expecting a guy, since Renault kept our contract a secret until the last minute, very few people knew that it was me joining the team. Once Daniel looked at me, and I still remember this very well, his face was of pure shock.”
“It wasn’t shock, really. I knew it was going to be a woman driver, and I was really excited to meet you because we never had a female driver before, and I wanted to make sure that you were welcomed with open arms. And the moment I laid eyes on you, I was star struck.” Danny confesses.
“What was your first thought when you saw Y/N?” The producer asks.
“That she was really beautiful and the second I got to know her the more, I knew that she had an even more beautiful personality. On top of that, she’s the funniest person I’ve ever met.” Danny says. You start blushing.
“That’s why you’re both called the funniest duo on the grid.” The producer says.
“Really? I didn’t know that!” You say, laughing.
“Really? I thought that was pretty obvious.” Danny says.
“How does competing alongside your partner in Formula 1 affect your personal relationship? Is it a positive or negative influence?” The producer asks.
“I think it’s very positive. Having someone that understands you and motivates you. We both know the sacrifices that we have to make to be in this sport and it helps a lot that we’re both in it because we get to spend a lot of time together.” You say.
“Yeah, I agree. I see the guys on the grid saying they’re missing their girlfriends and talking to them on the phone and I’m just ‘don’t mind me, I’m just gonna walk next door and kiss mine’ you know?” Danny says, laughing.
“What about summer break, do you also spend it together?” The producer asks.
“In the first two weeks Daniel flies to Australia to meet his family and I fly to see mine. Then, we spend the rest of the following days together.” You say.
“Do you ever give each other strategic advice during races?” The producer asks.
“Yeah, if I’m being honest, I wouldn’t be where I am today if I didn’t take the best out of Daniel’s advices. He has the experience and wisdom that I don’t have yet. He’s been trough a lot in his career and he’s my go to guy when it comes to advices.” You sincerely say.
From the corner of your eye you see Daniel smiling.
“Does Daniel go to you to get advices?” The producer asks.
“Sometimes, yeah.” You say.
“She sees the track with other eyes, you know? She has a completely bold strategy and I sometimes I really need to be bold.” Danny says.
“Daniel, what do you think are Y/N best individual strengths and weaknesses?”
“She’s fearless when it comes to driving that car. She doesn’t care about the risks when her eyes are only set on one goal, set on winning. She takes decisions that most of us wouldn’t have the balls to do so. And sometimes that can make her reckless and make poor decisions too and I think she has already realized this.” Danny says.
“Yeah, that’s true. I remember that in my first year of Formula 1 I would make poor decisions and as in result I had to retire the car because of that. Then, after those races, I would go to Daniel and ask what did I do wrong and he was brutally honest. I needed that.” You say.
“And what about Daniel? What is his best individual strengths and weaknesses?”
“He’s wise. He knows the tracks like the palm of his hands and knows the best strategies to basically fly through them. His weakness is that he thinks too much. Sometimes he has to take some risks in order to win.” You say.
“When one of you gets the podium and the other doesn’t, how do you guys react to that?”
“Well, it’s a mix of feelings. Of course you’re happy for your partner when they get the podium but, it’s undeniable that you’re also disappointed with yourself for not being there too. You need to separate the worlds. When Y/N is on the podium, you need to be the supportive partner and celebrate her, because there will be plenty of time to think about a strategy to beat her next.” He says and laughs.
“We agreed to separate the track from our personal lives since we started dating. And we’ve done that beautifully.” You say.
“Has ever been arguments about that?” The producer asks.
“Never!” You say.
“Let’s talk about a more sensitive matter.” The producer says.
“Love those.” Danny ironically says.
“Spa 2020.” The producer says.
“Ugh, I knew this was coming.” You laugh nervously.
“What happened?” The producer asks.
“I was on P4 when suddenly Grosjean’s car looses control and crashes into mine and we both hit the barricade at 200 miles per hour. I passed out for a few moments and when I woke up, I could only see fire around me. That’s when my fight or flight mode turned on and I try to get out of that car the fastest I can. When I go reach my seatbelt I find out that it’s stuck and it takes me a whole minute to get it out. Once I’m able to finally get out of the car, I only remember walking like a meter or so and then everything goes black.” You say, remembering the almost tragic day. “I only remember waking up in the hospital after that with a burned hand and getting some oxygen out into me because I breathed in too much smoke while I was trying to get out, that’s why I passed out.”
You feel Daniel’s hand on your lap, as a gesture of reassurance.
“That was a fun day.” You say, laughing to revive the mood of the room.
“It really wasn’t.” Daniel says, letting out a nervous laugh.
“How was it like for you?” The producer asks Danny.
“As soon as my engineer told me that was a red flag, I had this really bad feeling. I remember asking what happened and to who it happened and there was radio silence, I knew it was Y/N. And as soon as we all stopped in the paddock I remember getting out of the car and looking for Y/N. That was when they gave me the news that she had crashed and it was bad. My instinct was to immediately run to where she was and no one could stop me. When I got there, the paramedics told me that she was going to be okay and I got so relieved.” He lets out a nervous laugh and continues “I was not going to continue the race, all I wanted was to be with her but she was the one telling me to continue and remember me that in that track we’re drivers and that I needed to win that race. And that’s what I did.”
“You finally got P1 in that season.” The producer says.
“Yeah, but I didn’t really enjoy it. All I wanted was to get down that podium and run to the hospital, to be with her.” He says.
“There’s a lot of highs about dating when you’re in Formula 1 but the lows can be really low. Your instinct is to be with your significant other when they crash or have to retire the car but you know you need to race, it’s your job and you can’t get away with it. All you can do is win to have something to celebrate about. Deep down you know they are in the right hands.” You say.
“When covid hit, where were you guys?” The producer asks.
“We were living our lives, you know? We took that time off the track to really align ourselves with each other, to connect even more.” Danny says and you smile.
“And made the decision to get our own place. So, Covid for us was all about house hunting.” You say, laughing.
“What are your goals for the future in Formula 1?” The producer asks.
“Well, the championship is always my goal, it will always be. And I’m going to make sure that I win it next year.” Daniel says.
“And for you, Y/N?” The producer asks.
“Well, this past year was amazing for me. I got my championship and I’m really happy about that. But, next year I won’t be racing in the F1.” You say and look at Daniel who nods.
“And why is that?” The producer asks.
“I’m have to take a break for some time because I’m pregnant.” You say, smiling from ear to ear.
Everyone on the crew congratulates you and Danny.
You stand up and lift of your shirt just enough to show your little bump on camera. Danny gently presses his hand on your belly.
“Daniel Ricciardo Jr. is cooking in there.” He says, laughing.
“Well, if it’s a boy we’re definitely not calling him that.” You say as you sit down.
“Do you want a boy or a girl, Daniel?” The producer asks.
“I just want him or her to come healthy so it doesn’t really matter, mate.” He says.
“Well, next week we’ll know for sure.” You say and smile.
You feel realized. You have an amazing career, and amazing boyfriend and now you’re gonna have your little family. It’s heaven on earth.
511 notes · View notes
foxy-eva · 7 months
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Dancing in the Moonlight
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Summary: Spencer gets creative in order to cheer up Reader
Request: could you please write about how sunshine!reader ends up having a bad day and grumpy spencer spends all day to no avail trying to cheer up the sunshine!reader. The thing that finally works is a little bit silly? 
Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader
Category: Comfort, Fluff
Content Warning: Reader has a bad day and is upset but it's not specified why, mentions crying
Word Count: 1k
Masterlist
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Just like a sunbeam sneaking through black curtains you came into Spencer's life all those months ago. He would never forget the first time he felt the heat your presence radiated, warming even the darkest corner of his heart. After those long days of fighting evil, he craved nothing more than coming home to bask in your kindness. 
However, when he entered your apartment that night, Spencer immediately realized that something was different. Where he'd usually find excitement and joy, he only saw a fake smile on your face.
"What's wrong, my love?" 
Spencer found his place beside you on the couch, offering to pull you right into his arms. You hesitated, afraid that his touch might break loose the tears you so desperately tried to hold back. 
Instead of accepting his embrace, you just shook your head and answered, "I just had a bad day." 
Spencer knew that it must have been a truly terrible day for it to take away your smile. You were the most optimistic person he had ever met, always seeing the good in everything even when he couldn't. 
"I'm sorry to hear that. What can I do to make it better?" 
You just shrugged and leaned back on the couch, ready to simply wait until this day would be over. 
Spencer, however, decided to make it his mission to cheer you up. After giving it some thought, he realized that he had no idea how to do that, though. Usually your roles were reversed with you being the one to comfort him after a bad day. You were the one who – without fail – always managed to light up his life.
Now it was his turn to do the same for you. He just needed to figure out how. 
"Do you want to talk about it?" He offered. 
You shook your head while sinking back further into the couch. Spencer reached out his hand to brush over your fingertips. His touch was soothing, so you opened your palm to take his hand in yours. He moved closer to you until his shoulder touched yours. 
When you locked eyes with him you managed to flash him a timid smile, not as genuine as usual but less fake than before. 
"Hey," Spencer whispered.
"Hi," you breathed. 
His lips found yours in a brief and innocent kiss. It wasn't enough to make up for what happened today but you appreciated his attempt to light up your inner spark again. 
Spencer quickly noticed that his nearness alone wouldn't be enough to cheer you up. 
"Are you hungry?" He asked. "I could make you something to eat."
"I already had dinner earlier," you declined his offer. 
He got up from the couch to turn on the TV and put on your favorite show before disappearing in the kitchen for a few minutes. When he came back he handed you a mug with freshly brewed tea. 
"Thank you," you said while taking the beverage. "I really appreciate it."
It was true, you did appreciate his attempts to make your day better. It didn't work though. As he sat with you to watch the show while occasionally checking your facial features, he realized that, too. 
"You're still upset," he stated with a frown present on his face. 
"Sorry, I–"
"Don't apologize," he interrupted you. "It's not your fault. I just hate that I have no idea how to help you. You're always there for me and know exactly what to do or say and here I am… so…lost." 
"It's okay, Spencer. I'm sure it'll just pass. Tomorrow is a new day."
"No, don't you try to cheer me up!" He protested. "This is about you. I really want to make you feel better." 
You turned your head to look out the window. The sun had already set, all you could find was darkness on the other side of the glass. It almost felt like a metaphor for that day, as if all you could do was to wait for the next morning to let the rising sun warm your heart again. 
Spencer couldn't accept that, though, so he suggested, "We could go for a walk. Maybe the fresh air will help you clear your head."
It was worth a try. Chilly air met puffy cheeks when you stepped outside, Spencer’s hand immediately reaching out to intertwine his fingers with yours. Walking side by side, you followed his lead, unable to make a decision as to where to go yourself. Soon you stepped into a park together, noticing how a mild breeze created a rustling sound as it met leafy trees.
Tilting your head, your eyes wandered over the night sky. The moon was bright and big, almost looking unreal from your point of view. Although it was only borrowing its light from the sun, it still did its bet to illuminate your path. 
Very sudden and without a warning Spencer stopped his motions to step in front of you. He softly smiled at you when he said, "Dance with me."
Those were words you never thought you'd hear from him, so you asked in disbelief, "What?" 
He gently got ahold of your wrists to move them to his shoulders before he grabbed your waist. 
"Dance with me," he repeated. 
And so you did. 
At first you just swayed from side to side, not unlike all those kitschy prom scenes in teen movies. There was no music playing but that was alright, the sound of the wind was your beat while some sleepless bird sang the harmony. When Spencer made the first step, you simply followed his motions. 
It was clumsy and graceless but he didn't give up, not even when he almost fell over his own feet. The smile slowly forming on your face spurred him on to keep going despite his lack of skill. There was no holding back the laughter spilling from your lips each time your chests almost collided because you missed a step. 
However, after a few moments your body moved naturally with his, almost as if you had done that a million times before. Your smile grew bigger with each spin, making you slowly forget the sorrows of the day. And although the sunrise was still many hours away, just like that your inner light began shining again.  
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lovingmattysposts · 2 months
Text
You don't know me 29
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pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo
summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.
warnings:
I'll call you later tonight.
Chris's words through the phone rang in my head as I stared up at my ceiling.
"Six, seven, eight....." I counted the stars across my ceiling since they weren't actual constellations. It was easier to count them over and over than to stare at my phone and wait for a call that didn't seem like it was coming.
"Twelve" I finished.
I glanced down at my phone.
11:59 pm
One minute until 'tonight' was offically over. I swallowed as I put the phone down and looked back up at my ceiling. There’s probably a reason he’s not calling you. He didn’t forget. Maybe he was busy right now. He still loves you.
"One, two..." I trailed off and sighed closing my eyes. This was ridiculous. Pathetic.
I took in a breath, my eyes still closed. The breeze from the door of my balcony being open almost felt like the one outside from Chris and I's last date. I swallowed.
He laid against the blanket and opened his arms. I smiled before I laid against his chest and his arms closed around me. I blinked up towards the sky, before seeing the stars laid out before me.
I opened my eyes. There wasn't a breeze. Chris's arms weren't around me and I wasn't looking at the stars. The sky outside was cloudy, you couldn't see them. I already checked.
I took in a breath.
"Three, four....."
My phone buzz. I sat up and grabbed my phone
from: syd
how'd brunch with your dad go? Is he mentally stable? A serect serial killer? Criminal mastermind?
I sighed as my eyes trailed up to the time.
12:01 am
I looked off to the balcony before pushing off my bed and pushing the door closed and locking it and turning back to my phone.
to: syd
it was one brunch, how would i be able to tell if he was a serial killer?
I laid back down against my pillows.
Why did he forget to call?
Chris pov
It was quiet. It was dark here. I didn't like it. It was eerie this time of night, but the last time I came during the day and stayed for hours, a groundskeeper kicked me out. Not so gracefully after I cussed him out.
I stared down at tombstone.
Amelia Rose Smith 4-23-03 -- 7-03-19 a beloved daughter, a soul too sweet for this world gone too soon.
I swallowed. I placed new flowers beside it, but they would die soon. I didn't know if it was the first time flowers were left here since I left, or if the flowers were only empty for a few days.
Her parents moved to Flordia after her death to be closer to the rest of their family, so I don't know if anyone kept up in replenishing her flowers.
I didn't blame them for moving. In times of greif, you cling to your loved ones. The only problem was when she passed, and my greif came, the only 'loved one' I wanted to cling too was the one buried six feet in the ground.
When she first passed, I didn't leave her side. Even after the funeral, her parents left before I did. I didn't say anything. I just sat there and stared at the freshly grounded dirt, until the sun came up the next morning. That freshly grounded dirt was now overgrown with grass.
My parents didn't question me, they didn't even try to pull me away when I didn't leave the funeral.
They just let me sit here.
Like I am now.
"Chris"
"Chris." My dad shook my arm. I blinked. It was real. This was really happening. I swallowed as I glanced around the room and saw everyone staring at me. All eyes on me.
"They called your name, it's time to give your dedication" My father whispered down at me. I looked up at him. I felt like a child again. Like my dad was dropping me off at kindergarten for the first time.
I wanted to shake my head and cling to his side. But this wasn't kindergarten. This was a funeral filled with people, relatives, friends, all staring at me and they knew exactly who I was.
The boy who lost his girlfriend.
I stood up from the pew and it was silent. The only sound was the clicking of my feet as the preacher moved aside so I could stand in front of the podem.
I swallowed as my eyes glanced over the casket. The closed casket. I'm glad it was closed, I didn't know how I would have reacted if I had seen her laying there, lifeless. My gut clenched and I forced my eyes to tear away from the casket.
I turned and my eyes scanned over the filled church. Some people crying. Some not. Some looked sad, some didn't.
"Um" I cleared my throat as I stared down at my piece of paper, my hands shaking so much I couldn't even read the words. I swallowed and looked up meeting the eyes of Rose's mom.
I wanted to apologize, but I didn't know what to say. I wanted to say something along the lines of "I'm sorry I couldn't save her" but I couldn't even get the words out. I looked back down.
A tear rolled down the bridge of my nose. I quickly wiped it.
"Thank you for coming today. I know it would have meant a lot to--" My voice broke. I paused closing my eyes. I was strong. I could do this. I forced the paper still.
"Amelia was---" I paused. "Rose-" I corrected myself. It didn't feel right calling her by something I never called her before today. "She was the kindest soul in the world" I whispered, but it projected anyway. I swallowed the lump in my throat.
"She was the light in my day." I said. I glanced up meeting the eyes of my parents who nodded me forward. I stifened. I set the paper down and looked up at the faces of everyone.
"I've been trying to figure out how to deal with this" I said honestly. I shook my head. "I don't know how---" I swallowed. Don't cry Chris, everyone is looking at you. I stopped taking in a breath.
"The only conclusion i've been able to come to, was that she was too good for this world, so she just went on to the next" I nodded. "She went somewhere better than this place. To a place where she wasn't struggling--where she wasn't in pain and wasn't sad" The lump in my throat kept coming back up no matter how much I kept it down.
"Selfishly, I didn't want her to go. I--I wanted her to stay here with me. I've battled with myself for days over--" I closed my eyes. I couldn’t do this.
"I'm sorry" I shook my head, I hated the way everyone was looking at me. I hated the pressure. I hated the pity looks. I hated all of it.
I didn't know how to talk about this in front of a group of people that I didn't even know or Rose never even mentioned.
I grabbed the side of the podium to keep myself standing. I looked over to her parents.
"I don't know what to say" I shook my head. Rose's mother's eyes watered and she shook her head. "If I could replace myself with your daughter in that casket, I would" I said looking at her. Her eyes closed as she took in a breath.
I hung my head as tears ran down my face. "Trust me, I would" I cried. I looked up. Everyone was staring at me, this was too much.
"I'm sorry that I couldn't---That I didn't--"
Everyone was staring at me.
I pushed off the podium before walking down the aisle and rapidly wiped my face as I pushed out of the church doors.
I felt a rain drop on my face. I looked up. It wasn't raining. I pressed my hand to my face. "Fuck" I whispered. I wiped my eyes that had produced the water. I glanced down to the dirt.
"Sorry, I know you don't like when I curse" I whispered. No response. But there was one inside me, as if she were still sitting next to me now.
It's okay Chris. It's okay to feel things, sometimes it necessary.
I took in a breath.
"I don't understand why you left me. You ruined my life. I'm mad at you, I'm mad at the---dead" I whispered the last part. Was it disrespectful to be angry with the dead? I didn't know. I was. I've been angry for a while, it's just be clouded by sadness. I just hadn't noticed.
"I got a tattoo for you" I whispered. No response. I stared at the grave. "I don't know if you would have like it. You never really liked tattoos....but I just thought---" I paused. I closed my eyes. "I thought that you might have like it if it was mine" I swallowed the lump in my throat.
This was a lot harder than I thought it was going to be. I hung my head in between my legs. "God Rose. I just......" I swallowed.
"I miss you." I whispered. I wiped my nose and looked up at her gravestone. "I feel guilty" I stated. The only sounds between me and the gravestone were the sounds of crickets chirping.
"I've battled back and forth with myself over falling in love again" I whispered. I placed my head against my knee. "I'm so scared she's going to leave me like you did. You messed me up----so bad" I swallowed.
"I heard there were stages to grief" I played with the grass inbetween my fingers. "First, Sadness. Then anger" I breathed. I looked at the stone.
"It wasn't fair for the anger to hit right as I made it to Michigan. It was suppose to be a new beginning, but I did some things I’m not proud of. I was mean. You hated mean people, Rose. You wouldn't have been proud of me" I shook my head.
I wiped my eyes and let out a long breath. I turned away from the stone.
I heard the cracking of sticks behind me. I turned quickly, getting ready to stand up and fight off another groundskeeper, but I met a pair of blue eyes that looked like mine.
I sighed and relaxed.
"I thought I'd find you out here" My dad's voice rang. I didn't say anything and stared at the stone. He groaned as he went to sit down next to me. I didn't say anything, I just kept my arms around my legs and stared down.
"You know" My dad said looking over at me. "Your mother doesn't like it when she finds your bed empty at 2 am, especially after the blow up at dinner" He spoke softly. I didn't react.
It's because I hate being here. I hate being in Boston without Rose it didn't feel right, it didn't feel like Boston.
"I didn't meant to scare her" I mumbled. He shook his head. "She's just on edge about you being home. She forgets you would do this weekly" He sighed. I furrowed my eyebrows. Why is he making me feel guilty about coming to see Rose? I shouldn't have to feel guilty.
"I like it out here better. Out here someone actually listens to me" I grumped under my breath. My dad let out a sigh.
"I don't mean to come across like I don't listen to you Chris" He turned his head to look at me. I looked up at him. "Come across? You shipped me out to Michigan when it got hard for you" I spat staring at him. He closed his eyes.
"You needed a fresh start"
"I needed parents who could comfort me"
"You didn't let us" He snapped. I glared at him. He shook his head, bringing down his tone. Silence came between us. I felt a verge of guilt come up my throat.
"I didn't mean it" I whispered. He looked over at me. I felt the guilt of my own words wash over me. I shook my head. "I was angry, I was hurting--I still am-but" I swallowed. I didn't want to cry in front of him. I never wanted to.
I usually waited until everyone was out of sight before I allowed my emotions to hit me. I was not going to cry in front of him. I took in a breath trying to contain myself.
"I love you and mom, I never wanted you think that I didn't" I whispered. I felt the power of my father's gaze.
"We never thought that, even when you said it" His arm came over my shoulders. I looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows. "We're you're parents. Parents take everything their child says with a grain of salt" He breathed. I sighed. That didn't make me feel any better for what I said.
"Why did you come home Chris?" He asked softly. I blinked down. "You wanted me to" I stated softly. He shook his head. "That's not why you came" He breathed. I took in a breath as I looked at the grave.
He knew me too well, it hurt.
"I have to move on" I stated blankly not looking up at my dad. He just watched and listened. "For years I’ve held Rose's death with me" I shook my head looking at her name engraved in the stone.
"And I don't want to forget about it--I never want to forget about it--her." I shook my head afraid of the misconception. I swallowed. "I just want to move on from it. I want to start breathing again" I whispered.
It's true. It's why I came home. Not for my parents, not because my father wanted me to, not because I wanted to move back here---I didn't. I guess I just didn't know that until I stepped onto Boston ground. It hit me like a load of bricks, the realization.
"You're allowed to want to move on Chris, it doesn't mean you have to forget" He breathed. I didn't move as my eyes glanced over the stone.
"I met someone" I whispered. At this point I didn't know If I was talking to Rose or to my father. Neither replied.
"I think meeting her, made every emotions I've pushed down the last 3 years come up to the surface" I whispered. My father let out a breath.
"It sounds like this girl did you a favor" He stated. I swallowed, right now it didn't feel like it.
"I'm in love with her" I stated blankly before looking up at my father. Suprise crossed his face and he blinked at me. He opened his mouth and closed it. I turned away from him. I'm not crying in front of him.
"And she's nothing like Rose" I whispered. My father shifted.
"You have to stop blaming yourself for what happened to Rose and how you process it. Chris you're allowed to move on, you're allowed to fall in love, you're allowed to live" He shook his head at me.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and closed my eyes finally reeling in my emotions.
I looked up at my dad. His eyes were tired. I feel like that's what I did to people. Sucked the life out of them. I saw it in his eyes, my mother's eyes, Dan's eyes, Nate's eyes. I would die If i ever saw that look in Y/n's eyes.
"What's her name?" My father spoke and I blinked almost swearing it was Rose's voice I was hearing, not my father's. I looked down at the grave.
"Y/n" I stated. He smiled. "That's a pretty name" He whispered making me smile. "Yeah" I whispered. My father shifted before he picked up the flowers set beside the grave.
"Lilies" He smiled running his hands over the flowers. "They were her favorite flowers" I explained smiling slightly as I looked at them.
"It's funny because I would always joke that her favorite flowers were lilies, because it doesn't make sense because you know her name---" My voice tore at the last word, as I stared at the stone.
And I broke.
My body tensed at the unfinished sentence and a sob came out of my throat as uncontrollable tears came pouring out of my eyes as I cried. My body curled as I cried into my hands.
"It's okay. You're gonna be okay Chris" My dad grabbed my arms and pulled me into him. I couldn't fight him. I had no strength left in my body. I shook against his arms as I cried into his chest.
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