Tumgik
#my appearance. go figure. anyways i don't know. i want to write SOMETHING but nothing comes to me
BORIS JOHNSON RESIGNS AS MP. Thoughts? The people howl for a new update to the Big Dog the Clown saga.
Yes this was not on my personal bingo card; my most recent Big Dog event was that a friend of mine works for air traffic control and recently had to delay BoJo's holiday flight by four hours, and on being told that this particular plane had to be prioritised for a runway slot because it contained an Important Clown promptly pushed it to the bottom of the priority list. Lol. And then all this! What larks.
Okay not a lot of detail yet still but LET'S TAKE A LOOK AT THE EVENTS OF 9TH JUNE, 2023 and you know what? It's been a while. Let's do it properly.
7.15am
Another day dawns in the reign of evil Grand Vizier-turned-PM Rishi Sunak. He's a very boring flavour of evil, tbh. Say what you will about Johnson, but at least there was spectacle and showmanship to his clownshow. Something for the children to boo and hiss. An animate ham in a villain's wig, something to really enjoy as you sit back, relax, and savour a tall, cool glass of schadenfreude.
By contrast Rishi just gets sycophants - who are no less ridiculous, but far more grey and boring - who pretend he's a tech bro because "he understands AI" and they think that will make him a visionary and a man of the future and maybe some sort of Elon Musk figure, because that's obviously a smashing template to be copied in a leader of a country.
Tumblr media
This briefing was presumably drafted using ChatGPT.
Anyway, this is what we thought the day would be: another dreary overcast washout, livened up by Downing Street's latest attempt at making Sunak seem like a good idea to stave off the hulking spectre of Labour's inevitable GE win next year. How trite. How tedious. How mediocre.
What a shame it would be if... something were to liven it up.
8.39 am
Fun fact!
When a PM's term ends, as their last act in office, they get to present an Honours List. This means they write a list of all the people they reckon have been Jolly Good Sorts who have done Good Clowning and Supported The Community, and nominate those people for honours. Honours here can be anything from an MBE/OBE etc, to a Damehood/Knighthood, all the way up to entering the Peerage i.e. becoming a Lord. Traditionally, people have been fairly reasonable with these lists. Apart from anything else, the outgoing PM can only write the list - the new Prime Minister has to sign off on it, and it's usually the case, of course, that PMs are deposed by the opposition party.
Why am I mentioning this? Well: Boris, you see, has now presented his list to Sunak to validate. You may be unsurprised to learn that it contains quite a lot of clowns.
Another fun fact!
If a sitting MP is given a Peerage, they cannot continue to be an MP. MPs are elected. Lords are not. So an MP offered a lordship right now would have to stand down if they accepted, triggering a by-election in their seat that... well. That anyone could win, couldn't they? Ordinarily. Except Labour's shadow is growing, isn't it? I don't suppose Sunak would be all that happy about losing, for example, any Tory MPs nominated for a peerage right now.
What fun facts.
At 8.39am, Politics UK reveals an as-yet-unverified report that Nadine Dorries and Alok Sharma have been removed from Boris Johnson's honours list, and will go back to vetting.
(They also reveal that Big Dog's dad has been removed from the list, because nominating your dad for a Peerage is "inappropriate". Sorry, Bigger Dog. Apparently even corrupt ghoul Rishi Sunak has a limit to what open corruption he will allow, which is news to us all, most of all Rishi.)
10.41am
Nadine Dorries decides she will play to her strengths, and appear on TV to do some Public Speaking, which always goes well for her of course.
Nothing, let's remember, has been confirmed yet at all. But she's here to put people's minds at ease! No power-hungry status-chasing pink maniac, she! She is very clear in her aims.
“The last thing I would want to do would be to cause a by-election in my constituency.”
Quite right, Nadine. That would be disastrous.
11.20am
Oh, it’s Tory think tank NRG’s conference in Doncaster today.  Gideon George Osborne, pig-stupid former Grand Vizier and idiot fail-heir to David "pig-fucker" Cameron, gives a speech.  Let's see some quotes!
On the Tories’ choices of chancellors since he personally fell on his sword over Brexit left the role:
“You can see when the partnership doesn’t work. The government's paralysed and the politics is terrible.”
Fair, but also you are a government, George.
On Tories who attack the civil service:
“We’re in charge of our country’s destiny. We should stop blaming others if we don’t get things right." 
... right. But you just... Uh.
On Tory culture warriors:
“It’s really important that the Conservative Party is excited about the country we aspire to lead… and doesn’t get in to ‘we’re against all these groups of people’. We’re the inclusive people.”
Well, points for clearing that absurdly low bar, I guess. Christ, I cannot BELIEVE Suella Braverman is making George fucking Osborne look good-by-comparison.
1pm
Ooh. Nadine's attempts to put minds at ease have inexplicably not worked, can't think why not. She's such a reassuring and charismatic speaker normally.
But the rumour is now FLYING about that Nadine has indeed been dropped from the honours list, and specifically because Sunak wants to avoid a by-election that will lose him more seats at a time when he is desperate for even a mat on the floor as long as it's blue.
Sorry, Nads. Still; this morning you were very clear that the constituency comes first, so I suppose that's okay. The priority now is that she MUST stay in position, so the Tories can keep their numbers steady. It is VITAL she remains an MP. Let's remember her exact words!
“The last thing I would want to do would be to cause a by-election in my constituency.”
3.45pm
Nadine Dorries tweets her resignation.
The last thing she does as an MP is indeed to cause a by-election in her constituency.
3.50pm
Except this is Nadine Dorries we're talking about. She's found some flashy balls to juggle, look, and a boy to pour custard down her trousers.
Not five minutes after dropping the bombshell, she deletes the last tweet announcing her resignation, and tweets a new one.
The new tweet says, “it is now time for another to take the reins” as the MP for Mid-Bedfordshire.
The original tweet said, “it is now time for someone younger to take the reins.”
*
On Talk TV, Dorries says that "something significant did happen to change my mind", but doesn’t elaborate.
3.56pm
The whispers are whispering. The rumours are rumouring. The knives are sharpening.
Nadine's now-former seat is Mid-Bedfordshire, and has been Tory since 1929; a safe seat, which certainly explains how Nadine fucking Dorries managed to hold it for as long as she did.
An MP on the right of the Tory party says that if the Tories lose the Mid Bedfordshire by-election, it’ll open questions about Rishi Sunak's leadership CLOWNFALL 3: REVENGE OF BIG DOG LET'S GOOOOOO
3.57pm
Nadine Dorries is removed from the WhatsApp group.
Tumblr media
I would love to know who leaked that image. I really should not have that image. Ah well. Now you do too.
4.12pm
Good tweet alert!
Tumblr media
5.08pm
Phew! What a day. Let's see how Rishi's getting on.
He approves the rest of BoJo's honours list. Shall we take a look at our newly-honoured citizens? Shall we see what familiar names crop up?
Honours for staff at centre of Partygate Jack Doyle, Rosie Bate-Williams and Shelly Williams-Walker (and a lot of other terrible and disgraced people who were loyal to Johnson, and some of Carrie Antoinette’s friends).
Damehoods for Andrea Jenkyns and Priti Patel.
Knighthoods for Jacob Rees-Mogg, Conor Burns, and Michael Fabricant.
An OBE for Kelly Jo Dodge, Parliamentary hairdresser.
Also honours for Ben Houchen, currently at the heart of a media storm about dodgy property deals.  His huge regeneration project in Teesside is subject to a government investigation regarding the governance, finance and value for money.
*
(Interesting point – Tory MPs Allister Jack and Nigel Adams were offered peerages, but decided to wait, since accepting now would trigger by-elections.
Why were they offered at all, do you think?)
*
So … this means Michael Fabricant is now Sir Michael Fabricant.  Like, actually.  Genuinely.
Nice one, Rishi. Thank goodness you understand AIs.
5.44pm
The Guardian’s Pippa Crerar - journalist who brought down Big Dog one Partygate reveal at a time - tweets her guide to he honours list:
Martin Reynolds, former PPS, invited 200 officials to drinks in Downing St garden.  He told officials to "bring your own booze", later adding: "We seem to have got away with it".
Shelley Williams-Walker, getting a Damehood, was No 10 head of opps & now runs his office.  At No 10 party the night before Prince Philip's funeral she was dubbed "DJ SWW" for her banger playlist.
Jack Doyle & Rosie Bate-Williams, who get OBEs, were press spox who repeatedly denied the parties happened
Dan Rosenfield, who gets a peerage, quit in mass exodus of senior No 10 staff as anger over Partygate grew.  Former chief of staff faced reports he was among senior Downing Street officials who attended a Christmas quiz when restrictions were in place.
Shaun Bailey, who ran unsuccessfully for London mayor, gets a peerage, and Ben Mallett, a close friend of Carrie Antoinette's who ran Zac Goldsmith’s disastrous mayoral campaign, gets an OBE. Both are in this picture of a lockdown-flouting party at CCHQ:
Tumblr media
What a sea of punchable faces.
7.58pm
But we've been so focused on Nadine! She's fucked up her juggling, look, but she's sliding around on the rollerskates, ever so distracting. But here's the thing, Tumblrs, here's the thing:
Among all of this, what's the Chief Clown doing?
The Privilege Committee reveals in their draft report that Boris Johnson misled Parliament, and recommends a sanction of more than 10 days.
Does that sound too little? Are you wishing it were smething more meaningful? Let me help put it in context.
This sanction would be enough to trigger a by-election in Johnson’s seat.
8.02pm
Boris Johnson
QUITS
as an MP
Tumblr media
The committee said Johson had “impugned the integrity” of the House of Commons. Fascinating! I didn't know its honour had ever been pugned.
He accuses the inquiry of trying to “drive me out”!!!!
"It is very sad to be leaving parliament - at least for now - but above all I am bewildered and appalled that I can be forced out, anti-democratically, by a committee chaired and managed, by Harriet Harman, with such egregious bias".
Worth noting that the committee has a Conservative majority, mind. But you mustn't let things like facts get in the way of your feelings, BlowJo. You never have as a politician. Nor as a journalist, come to that.
(Also SIDE NOTE – “at least for now”??  What are you planning, Big Dog??  I suppose Nadine is leaving an empty seat...)
8.41pm
Christopher Hope of the Daily Telegraph reports he’s heard rumours of a THIRD Tory MP potentially resigning – and another Johnson loyalist at that. Lol. Trololol. Lmao, even. Perhaps rofl.
11.43pm
And finally, the day is wrapped up with the Guardian revealing their front cover for the following day:
Tumblr media
Big Dog is OUT, hot trans bloke is IN.
Not a bad finish.
2K notes · View notes
ssaaaronmontgomery · 11 months
Note
Mon I think Aaron got a pair of old man (dilf) style reading glasses and at first he’s embarrassed to wear them with the team bc he knows Morgan or Dave will tell him he’s getting old BUT when he wears them at work he notices you get unable to focus in the team meeting and you’re all dazed basically until he takes them off and tucks them away but bonus point that this interaction makes him feel very desired and wanted 😵‍💫 and maybe he’ll show them off to you in private later 🤫
The Glasses
Warnings: Pining?? Sort of?? Maybe idk. Nothing smutty but there are some implications. This is like borderline nsfw? Maybe??
Word count: 1.1k
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!bau!reader
A/n: Omg yes. We love dilf glasses on Hotch. He already looks so pretty and desirable but something about glasses on him is different and I need it. I wouldn't say this fic is necessarily nsfw. But I might be willing to write a part two where it becomes smutty. I'll leave this as sfw unless I come to the conclusion that it should be marked otherwise.
Tags: @criminalskies
Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle
You're completely distracted and it's all his fault. Him and his downright slutty glasses. The first time you saw him wearing them it was a very brief sighting as he had taken them off after just a few seconds of you being in the room. And ever since then you craved to see him wearing those glasses again. They often made an appearance in some of the very inappropriate fantasies you have about your boss. They'd even worked their way into your dreams at night.
The case the team is currently working has been dragging on for a couple of days now and you've gotten basically nowhere with it. The fact that you're sitting across from Hotch as he reads a file with his glasses on is not helping you concentrate on the case in the slightest. And it's stirring something up deep inside you the more you stare at him. Aaron wearing those glasses and looking all serious as he reads is making you very horny if you're being totally honest.
"Y/l/n? Y/l/n. Y/n." You hear Hotch speak your name in a stern tone and you feel his hand grasp yours and he squeezes it. You snap out of your trance. "Hmm? Yeah, what is it, Hotch?" He furrows his brows as he looks at you and pulls his hand away now that he has your attention. "Are you okay? You've been distracted. Every time we sit here looking through files, you seem to be distracted. Is something going on? Are you alright?" Concern is clear in his voice.
What you want to say is "No, I'm not alright. I'm horny and it's your fault because you're wearing dilf glasses that make me want you more than ever. You're very distracting and if you don't put them away right now I'll launch myself over this table and kiss you before dragging you to my hotel room." But you figure that's not really the best thing to say to your boss right now. So you settle for giving him a smile and a nod before looking back down at the file in front of you as you try to force yourself not to look at the beautiful man sitting across from you.
You stare down at the papers but even though you're not looking at him anymore, you still aren't actually focusing on the words on the page because you're so concentrated on not looking back up at Hotch to steal another glance at those glasses. Though eventually you can't help it and do it anyway. You can't really stop yourself as you look back to him.
The glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he scowles down at his papers. You sigh out loudly by accident. No one else is really paying attention to you aside from Emily and Derek sending each other smirks when they notice just why you're so out of it. But the loud sigh makes Aaron look at you again. His glasses are down far enough that he's looking over the top of them to make eye contact with you.
"Y/n, are you sure you're fine?" He asks, sounding even more concerned now.
"What? Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired is all."
He stays silent as he observes you for a moment before nodding and going back to his reading.
This continues as the team starts throwing ideas around. Aaron keeps an eye on you throughout it and he knows your excuse of being tired, while partially true, is definitely not the main reason for your behaviour and he just can't pinpoint exactly what it is. But he realises it must have something to do with him as you can't keep your eyes off of him, and only him. You're not having this problem with any of the other team members. Not Derek, not JJ, not anyone but him.
He goes back to your previous statement about being tired once everyone goes back to sifting through the numerous number of old reports and files from the precinct as you all try to come up with a group of suspects.
Hotch speaks up when he feels your eyes on him again. "Would you like me to get you a coffee? I know what they have here isn't very good, but it might wake you up a bit." He glances up at you as he waits for your response. "Yeah, sure. That's probably just what I need."
He nods and stands, in the process he removes his glasses and sets them down on the table. He notices how your eyes follow the glasses and that's when pieces start coming together in his mind. He figures he'll test it out when he comes back.
He leaves and comes back a few minutes later with your cup of coffee and sets it down in front of you. You thank him and he nods then sitting back down. This time, leaving his glasses off. In fact, he actually puts them away so they're out of sight entirely.
This seems to change things. You're more focused on the work. You still give him the occasional glance but you're not full on staring at him with drool practically spilling out of your mouth like you had been earlier.
He leaves the glasses put away and he tries his best to read without them like he used to. He'd known he had needed glasses long ago but he refused to wear them because he didn't want his age to show. He knew he would get some teasing remarks about it from Dave and Morgan. But eventually, it got to the point where he could hardly do the reading part of his job. So he reluctantly had his eyes checked and soon he was wearing glasses that made it far easier to read.
He didn't like the glasses in the slightest. They made him feel old and he didn't like that. But the way you looked at him when he was wearing them, that did something to him. It made him want to wear them.
Unable to work without them, he gets them back out and puts them on. It's hard not to notice the way you immediately look back up from your work. He pretends not to see it.
Over the next half hour you can't help but watch him like he's the most interesting thing you've ever seen. You're fixated on him. And now he is sure it's the glasses that are doing it. He has to bite back a smile. Knowing you apparently find him so attractive with them on makes him feel good inside. He doesn't understand why you would like it, but it's extremely clear that it's doing something for you. He's tempted to show up at your hotel room later to explore this further and see just how much you like them.
2K notes · View notes
hunny-bean · 11 months
Text
Too Close For Comfort
Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: Frank comforts you after he is forced to kill a man in your shared motel room.
Word Count: 5.4k
Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Gun Violence, Dead Body (Not Frank's. Don't Worry), Explicit Sexual Content, Little Pinch of Angst, Long Ass Flashback, Porn With 3.5k Words of Plot
A/N: This is the first fic I've ever written! I've been wanting to write for the JB fandom for a while and I finally decided to go for it. I'm planning to write for a lot more of his characters in the future, but I figured Frank was a good starting point. Hope you like it! I'm open to feedback if you've got it. XOXO.
Read on AO3
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
After almost three months of living in an old stolen pickup truck and a series of shitty motels, you had learned to count your blessings. An important one, you quickly came to realize, was good water pressure. You were in the middle of your forth shower in the three days you and your new travel partner had been in this town, and you were trying your best to savor the moment. Since the closest companion of long showers is long trains of thought, you allowed your mind to wander back to how your adventure first began.
You took a step back in the cereal aisle in your local grocery store to examine the top shelf and ran directly into someone trying to pass behind you. Startled, you dropped the basket you were carrying full of frozen veggies and canned soups, and watched them roll in all directions. You whipped around so quickly you almost joined your soup on the floor, but luckily a strong hand shot out to steady you before you could.
"Whoa. Sorry 'bout that," the stranger said. And that was how you met Frank Castle. Surprisingly, your first impression of him had nothing to do with his gentle giant aura or his warm, gravelly voice. Your first impression happened before you even laid eyes on him, and that was how backing up into him was like hitting a brick wall with your car. He didn't stumble or falter. He didn't even flinch.
"No, sorry, that was my fault," you replied, your cheeks flushed from creating a loud noise in a public place. The stranger removed his hand from your arm and glanced down at the floor where your bags of peas laid, slowly thawing.
"You, uh... You want some help with those?"
"Oh, I got it, don't worry."
The man mumbled an "alright" and you watched him start to walk away, expecting him to leave the aisle, but he only took a few steps before his foot brushed a stray can, and he bent down to help anyway.
"Thank you. You didn't have to do that," you said when all the groceries had been collected.
"No problem," he muttered. You weren't sure why, but there was something off-putting about him. Later you realized it was the stark contrast between his gruff outer appearance and his quiet way of speaking. He was so intimidating but he seemed so trustworthy. "You have a nice day, ma'am."
Before he could walk away, you found yourself calling out to him, too curious to let him leave without asking any questions.
"Hey, I don't think I've seen you around here before. Are you. . . new in town?"
He seemed amused by your attempt to start a conversation, but decided to indulge you anyway. "I'm just passin' through. So you, uh, you really know everyone that lives here?"
Although he seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, he kept subtly glancing around like he was about to cross the street or something. When he turned his head, you noticed the remnants of a week-old bruise on his jaw.
"Pretty much, yeah," you responded. "So, life on the road, huh? Sounds pretty exhilarating."
He let out a friendly chuckle. "Yeah, I guess it can be. If exhilarating is what you call lukewarm showers and buying all your food from the gas station."
You smiled back, happy the man seemed to be warming up some. He seemed less on edge, and you weren't sure why, but that made you feel accomplished in some way.
"Well, this isn't a gas station," you remarked, playfully contradicting his earlier statement.
"You're right, it's not," he said. "But I had to make an exception because-" You watched as he pulled a round object from his jacket pocket, holding it up and waving it slightly as if to show it off. "-gas stations don't carry mangoes."
You mock gasped, unable to fight back a smile. "Pocket fruit? I hope you were planning to pay for that. Or are you 'just passing through' because you're on the run from the police?"
You expected him to laugh at this, but instead you saw him staring intently over your shoulder at a man who had just entered the aisle. He seemed to identify the new arrival as some sort of threat. You saw that they were looking directly at each other, and you suddenly felt uneasy. Before you could ask what was wrong, several things began happening at once.
The man at the end of the aisle pulled out a gun and pointed it directly at the two of you. No, not at you, just at the kind stranger, who immediately pushed you behind him as the first shot rang out, followed by a second one. Thankfully, they both missed the two of you, but the second bullet grazed the basket you were still holding which was sticking out from behind the stranger's leg. Instantly, you dropped the basket and began sprinting for the nearest exit with the stranger close behind you.
You ran through a door marked 'EMPLOYEES ONLY,' which the stranger quickly barricaded with a tall shelf packed with bulk boxes of paper towel rolls. As the shooter banged at the door, the two of you found an exit at the back of the stock room, which you flung open and rushed through into the building's side alley. The stranger pulled you behind the building to where his vehicle was conveniently parked, almost as if he'd been anticipating an emergency escape. Too terrified to argue, you didn't protest when he ordered you to get in the passenger seat and jammed his keys in the ignition. He tore out of the parking lot and onto the main road, carrying you away from your home and the man who had tried to kill you both.
It took you half an hour to work up the courage to ask questions.
"Who was he?" you asked, softly. You're sure he heard you, although he seemed happy to pretend he didn't.
After a few long moments, when he realized you weren't going to stop staring at him until he answered, he begrudgingly responded.
"A bad man."
"Why did he wanna kill you?"
"I, uh, took something from him," the stranger said, studying his rear view mirror to see if you were being followed.
"Are you a bad man?" you asked, tentatively.
At first he just sighed, and for a moment you thought that's all he was going to give you for an answer, but then he spoke.
"I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you're asking."
"Then. . . can you take me home?"
"I can't turn around yet, not 'till I know we're not being followed. Then I might be able to take you back so you can pack a bag or two."
"Pack?! For what?" you exclaimed, dreading the answer. There was another awkward silence while the man planned his answer. "Why do I need to pack? Tell me!"
"That man, the one with the gun? He has a, uh, habit of targeting his enemies' loved ones."
"But we barely know each other, why the hell would he-"
"He doesn't know that."
"Besides," he continued after a while, "I don't really. . . have any loved ones. So he's kinda grasping at straws to find somebody I'd want to protect."
"So, he thinks you would care if I died, and now we're both in danger?" You stared at him in disbelief.
"Pretty much, yeah," he mumbled.
After that, the truck was silent for a long while. The only time you spoke in the next two hours was to give the stranger your address. You watched the trees and road pass by beside you, trying to figure out what you would pack when you finally made it home for possibly the last time. You were lost in thought so long that you were pulled out of your head by the truck's tires bouncing over the dip in your driveway. You didn't even know you had turned around.
"You get ten minutes. We're traveling light, so don't go crazy." You began to hop out of the truck before the stranger's voice stopped you in your tracks. You turned around and saw that he was looking at you for the first time since you escaped the grocery store. "For the record," he began, contemplating what to say next, "I would care if he killed you."
You just stared back at him, not knowing how to respond to that.
"I'm gonna keep you safe, alright?" he promised, and you believed him.
You nodded, and went inside to gather your belongings. There was just something about this man that made you want to trust him. You managed to fit everything you needed into a large duffel bag and a back-pack. Looking around you, you realized something. You lived alone and all your friends lived out of state. This town had nothing to offer you except a shitty restaurant job. Most likely, the only person who would even notice you were gone was your boss. You took a deep breath before returning to the truck, putting your life in the hands of someone you just met.
You hopped back in the passenger seat, and the stranger helped you toss your bags in the backseat after checking that they were of a reasonable size. "You ready?" he asked.
"Fuck, no. Lets go."
The two of you took off down the road in a different direction than before, hoping to throw the bad man off your trail. After about an hour on the road, you looked over at the stranger to find him smirking slightly, lost in thought.
"What?" you asked, happy the mood seemed to be lightening despite your situation. He glanced over at you momentarily, and instead of providing a verbal response, he just reached into his pocket and handed you a slightly dented but still perfectly ripe mango. You took it from him with a smile.
"What's your name?" you asked.
He looked at you for a long moment, before seeming to make a decision. "Frank. What yours?"
You were brought back to the present by a torrent of freezing cold water, telling you you had been in there too long. You were thankful that Frank seemed to prefer morning showers. As you stepped out and dried off, you thought about the man chasing you. Eventually, when Frank opened up to you, he revealed that his name was Jordan Carlisle, and that his father was involved in the murder of Frank's family. You also discovered that the thing Frank had taken from him was his father's life. It had been so long since that day at the grocery store, and you wondered if you'd ever see him again. Maybe by this point, he'd given up on his revenge, and decided to leave Frank in peace. But Frank said Carlisle wasn't the type of man to just give up, and that if you ever wanted to stop running, someone would have to die.
During your few months together, you also learned that Frank wasn't the type to run away or avoid confrontation. The only reason he hadn't met Carlisle half way and taken him down was to keep you safe. That and the fact that he had been forced to leave behind some supplies shortly before you met and was left with nothing but a handgun, two bullets, and a pocket knife. (All things you could use to kill a man, but probably not a trained assassin).
You were both anticipating the end of the chase, however, because Frank had recently acquired various new firearms and a respectable pile of ammunition, and he was getting a little tired of running. Also, there's only so much distance you can put between you and your attacker before he realizes he's moving in the wrong direction. You had just pulled your favorite cotton nightgown over your head when-
*BANG*
You heard the unmistakable sound of the motel door being forced open. You heard a gunshot and something hit the floor. The sounds of a physical struggle just behind the bathroom door simultaneously relieved you and caused your heart to slam against your rib cage. At least you knew Frank was still alive. Unfortunately, so was the person who broke in. You couldn't see him, but you were pretty sure you knew who it was.
Two more gunshots shocked you into motion. You slid under the bathroom sink and tried desperately to remember what Frank told you to do on your first night together in case of a break in. He told you to get outside and find a hiding spot or barricade yourself in a closet or bathroom and wait for him to come get you. His voice in your head was commanding you, "Do. Not. Move." You tried to do as you were told but the urge to make sure Frank was alright was growing stronger. The muffled grunts and thuds were scaring you. You couldn't tell who had the upper hand and you didn't know enough about guns to determine which shots came from which man.
A loud cry of pain from Frank was your final straw. There wasn't a single thought in your head, let alone a plan, but you couldn't keep hiding while someone you cared about was potentially getting himself killed. You ran to the bathroom door, unlocked it, and threw it open with as much force as you could manage. The door slammed into the wall beside it with a loud crash. A distraction.
Just a few feet in front of you, Jordan Carlisle was caught off guard by the sound and he twirled around to find the source. Almost instantly, his gun was trained on you. Suddenly, you felt consumed by fear unlike anything you'd ever felt before. You heard the gunshot and flinched violently backward, as if you could somehow escape the bullet, stumbling back onto the bathroom floor. You screamed and squeezed your eyes shut tight, waiting for the impact, but it never came. You hesitantly opened your eyes just in time to watch Carlisle collapse onto the dirty motel carpet, eyes open and unseeing. He was dead. The chase was over.
Almost immediately you burst into tears, unable to get the image of his lifeless body out of your head. You knew you should be relieved, but there was something about almost dying that made you prone to emotional outbursts. You gazed up at Frank across the room, who still had his gun pointed at the spot where Carlisle had been standing moments before. He slowly lowered it and looked over at you where you were sitting on the floor, sobbing. He seemed angry, like every cell in his body was infused with a furious energy, and he had just shot the thing he was taking it out on.
"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!" Guess now it was your turn. "I TOLD YOU IF SOMEONE BREAKS IN, YOU FIND A PLACE TO HIDE AND YOU STAY THERE."
"I was j-just wo-horried about you," you hiccuped.
"I HAD IT COVERED."
"I'm sorr-"
"YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN YOURSELF KILLED. THEN ALL OF THIS RUNNING BULLSHIT WOULD HAVE BEEN FOR NOTHING."
You turned your head away from the shouting and found yourself looking directly at Carlisle again. This time, you were unable to turn away. It was like you were completely frozen, tension locking all your muscles in place, rendering you incapable of even the slightest movement. Your tears began falling harder but you were barely making a sound. Your lungs were tight and burning. You couldn't even draw in a full breath. Frank's reprimanding faded into background noise. You found yourself wishing desperately that you were anywhere but in that room.
"Oh, fuck," Frank muttered when he saw you damn near hyperventilating. He calmed down considerably when he realized yelling at you was only making things worse. "Shit, I didn't want you to see this."
He made his way over to your side of the room and knelt down to be at eye level with you. You barely acknowledged his presence.
"Hey, look at me," he asked gently. You didn't move your head. Softly, Frank cupped your cheek, the one farther away from him, and used it to turn you in his direction.
"You're gonna be okay," he promised. "Can you stand, sweetheart?"
Seeing Frank alive and calm helped you come back to yourself. Slowly, you nodded. Frank stood and held out his hand to you, which you used to pull yourself up with a little effort. You managed to get upright, but your legs were shaking so hard you weren't sure if you'd be able to walk. It was pathetic, and you were quite sure Frank would agree, but he didn't say anything about it. He just took one look at you and scooped you up into his arms. You were embarrassed by your incompetence, but you had finally stopped crying, and that was an accomplishment in and of itself.
Frank carried you over to your bed on the far side of the room and laid you down carefully. On your way over, you passed his bed which was closer to the bathroom, and saw two bullet holes in the pillow Frank had been laying on when you left to take a shower. That was when the relief hit you. You felt no more grief or fear or regret, only solaced by the fact that you were both alive and safe at last.
"Stay here, alright? Don't move," Frank murmured. He turned to walk over to the body again but you grabbed onto his arm before he could leave. He looked back at you questioningly.
"I heard you get hurt," you mentioned shyly. "What happened?"
Frank's eyes revealed that he was happy you were talking again. He seemed touched that your first concern when the shock wore off was for him.
"Ran into the nightstand," he admitted, rubbing his side. "It's just bruised, nothing to worry about."
You had a feeling he wasn't telling you the full story, but you decided to accept his answer. As far as you could tell, he wasn't bleeding anywhere and he didn't seem to be in much pain. Satisfied, you let go of his arm and turned to face the wall. You had a feeling you wouldn't want to see what was about to happen.
You laid there for a while, listening to Frank working behind you. You heard something being dragged across the floor, several grunts of effort and a sickening thud. You heard the faucet running in the sink and the sound of the bathroom door closing. There were footsteps moving around the room. . . the sound of someone changing clothes. You smelled the air freshener left in the bathroom cabinet masking the scent of blood.
Finally, after God knows how long, you felt the bed dip slightly as Frank sat down on the edge. You sat up and moved next to him, resting your head on his shoulder after a moment of hesitation. He put his arm around your shoulder and held you closer to him. The two of you weren't usually this affectionate, but you had certainly grown closer during your time together, and you figured the situation called for it.
"Do you think the police are on their way down here?" you asked.
Frank shrugged. "Probably not if they haven't shown up by now." Frank tried and failed to fight back a small smile. "Either that guy behind the front desk is a really heavy sleeper, or he did something to piss off the jackass in our bathtub. The only other people in this dump checked out yesterday," he said. You couldn't help but smile at that along with him. You were just so happy to be alive.
The more you let that thought run through your head, the more you wanted to be close to him. You needed more than an arm around your shoulder after you almost got shot in the head. You wanted to be held. 'Oh, sue me,' you thought. 'Who wouldn't?'
But you tried to let it be enough. You weren't sure how Frank would react to more than what you were already doing and you were too nervous to find out. You felt Frank shift next to you and realized that overthinking had caused you to become tense. The silence between you grew slowly thicker and you were worried he was about to pull away from you. In that moment, Frank standing up seemed like the absolute worst thing in the world that could happen to anyone, and you weren't about to let it.
'Fuck it', you thought, and with one quick movement, you were straddling his lap with your arms thrown over his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. He was caught off guard for a brief moment, but a second later his arms were wrapped around your waist, holding you just as tightly. You buried your face in his neck, breathing him in and savoring the feeling of his pulse against your cheek.
"We're okay, Frankie," you breathed. "It's over."
"I told you I was gonna keep you safe, sweetheart. I don't make promises I can't keep."
The two of you stayed like that for a while, content to just hold each other until the sun shone through the curtains. Well, you thought you were content, but it wasn't long before the closeness started to affect you. He was just so warm and solid, and suddenly you felt like he was wearing too many clothes. You wanted to feel him. Feel his heartbeat and the warmth of his skin on yours.
Your stomach was tight with desperation and you felt tears forming behind your eyes. You needed to be closer. Your thighs tightened around Frank's hips and he felt your breathing get heavier against his neck. You shifted your position slightly to ease some of the wanting in your veins but you froze when you heard Frank's breath hitch.
As you settled your weight on his lap again, your new position provided a new sensation. There was something warm pressing against your inner thigh. Even through Frank's impenetrable denim jeans, you could feel it heating up.
Frank was just as aroused by your position as you were. He wanted you, too, but you knew he would never admit it because he cared about you too much to do anything that could potentially hurt you.
The worst part was, you could feel it getting bigger and pulsing softly right next to where you wanted it the most, and he knew you could feel it. He knew, and he knew you wanted it, but he still wasn't saying anything about it because he was too damn stubborn. He probably thought you weren't in your right mind and would regret it in the morning but that was just such bullshit. You could never regret him, and you were going to make sure he knew that.
There was still some part of you that was afraid to make a move, and that part of you really wanted Frank to break first. So, you decided to make him unable to ignore it any longer. Pretending to adjust your position again, you settled down directly on top of his bulge, making sure it was exactly where you wanted it. The feeling of his cock hardening against you sent another wave of desperation through your body, causing you to tighten your limbs around him again. Still feigning innocence, you rolled your hips once for good measure, grinding down on him to see his reaction.
You didn't see it so much as feel it, when his arms tensed up around you and he turned his head away from you in frustration. You could feel your blood pumping hard, and you were sure your face was flushed. You wondered if he could feel your heartbeat the same way you could feel his pressed up against your clit. You felt his cock twitch again, even through three layers of fabric, and you could barely take it any more. You rolled your hips again, purely on instinct, and accidentally let out a soft moan.
Frank exhaled sharply and slid his arm from around your waist to pull your head away from his neck.
"What are you doin', sweetheart?" he asked, looking at you sympathetically when he saw your wrecked face. Suddenly, it was all too much for you, and there was nothing you could do to stop a rogue tear from sliding down your cheek.
"Please," you whispered, and that was all you had to say.
He put a hand on the back of your neck and pulled you toward him before lightly brushing his lips against yours. You pushed forward, wanting more, but Frank pulled away before you could really kiss him. He just sat there for a moment, searching your eyes for any signs of reluctance or any lack of clarity whatsoever. In the end, he found nothing but pure desire and maybe, just maybe, love.
This time, when he leaned in, you met him half way. This time, it was more than just a brush of lips. Frank kissed you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. Gentle, yes, but also tortuously deep. You felt his tongue brush against your lower lip and gently coax your mouth open to kiss you harder, and it was warm and wet and perfect. As your need got worse, you began to grind down on him again, sighing into his mouth from the friction.
The hand he had on your neck moved up to tangle in your hair, tugging gently, while the other one shifted to settle on your lower back as he encouraged harder, slower movements of your hips. As he forced you down against him, the feeling of the rough denim on your clit through your thin panties caused you to whine quietly. Every slight movement sent sparks shooting up your spine.
You shifted your body backwards and reached down between you to tug at his zipper, but it didn't want to come down. Frank let you struggle with it for a moment, but just as you started getting frustrated, he took over for you.
In one swift movement, you were on your back underneath him, your legs still hooked around him. He sat up for a moment to pull off his shirt (revealing his fucking perfect abs that seemed completely unfair and you were about to LOSE YOUR MIND BECAUSE HOLY SHIT) and then he was back on top of you, pressing one last kiss to your lips before pulling away to look you in the eyes.
"You sure you want this, sweetheart?"
"Don't you fucking dare leave me like this, Castle."
Frank snorted, rolling his eyes affectionately. "Yes, ma'am."
With one hand, he reached down to unzip and tug down his pants and underwear, freeing his flushed cock from it's uncomfortable confines. It was bigger than you expected it to be, which is saying something because you already knew he was big from rubbing against it. He was so hard it looked painful, and he gave himself a few tugs to take the edge off. Just watching it drip onto the bed had you feeling dizzy. You were unbearably wet and all you wanted was to feel it inside of you.
Luckily, Frank seemed to tell as much, because he slid his hand up your thigh, kissing your neck gently and pushing the hem of your nightgown up to your stomach. He hooked the fingers of one hand in the waistband of your underwear but he paused there, waiting for some sort of go-ahead. You nodded at him, and he sat back again to tug your panties down your legs and pull them off.
This time, instead of immediately climbing back on top of you, Frank took a moment to admire you from an upright position. He gazed hungrily at your exposed cunt before swiping a finger through your folds and brushing your clit with the pad of his thumb. You jolted at the feeling, whimpering when he did it again just to watch you shudder.
"Frankie, please," you whined.
Frank decided to have mercy on you, and he came up to kiss you as he lined the tip of his cock up with your aching hole. He pushed slowly until the thick head was all the way in, surrounded by your soft, fluttering walls. It was a stretch, and it wasn't even half-way in. You appreciated Frank giving you a moment to adjust, but you didn't want one. You wanted to feel all of him, even if it hurt.
Hooking your legs tighter around him, you tried to push him into you. It didn't work, obviously. You didn't think you could move Frank if you barreled into him full-force, but he got the message.
In one smooth thrust, he buried himself fully inside you, grunting loudly and whispering an "Oh, fuck" into your neck. Your back arched up off the bed and you moaned loudly as his cock hit sweet spots inside you that you didn't even know existed.
Having Frank hovering over you, connected to you in so many ways, was easily the best thing you'd ever experienced. You were both breathing heavily and shaking as you waited for the initial pleasure shock to wear off.
Once you adjusted, you shifted slightly under him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. Whatever stimulation you managed to get from that was nothing compared to when he actually started moving. Each thrust was slow and deep, sending waves of bliss coursing through you. You couldn't stop the gasps and whimpers that kept escaping, nor did you want to.
Franks arms were on either side of your head, closing you in so all you could see and feel was him. You had never felt so safe in your entire life. Every movement was so complete and perfect. Nothing was rushed or forceful, but it was still all pure pleasure. You were sure you had never been this wet before.
Feeling Frank's back muscles shift under your fingertips as he thrust into you was mesmerizing, and hearing him moan softly and curse against your pulse point was sending shivers through your body. Every time Frank pushed his cock back inside you, you felt yourself ascending further, rapidly approaching your peak. Every time he pulled out slowly so you could feel it dragging against every part of your sensitive walls, you wanted to sob from feeling so good.
It wasn't long before you were crying out from your release, tightening your grip on every part of Frank and leaving long scratches down his back. When your climax finally hit, you swore you were having an out-of-body experience.
"Attagirl, that's it," Frank whispered as he felt you spasm around him. "Oh, fuck, sweetheart. Where-" he began. Reluctantly, you rubbed your hand on your stomach. You hadn't had access to birth control in almost six weeks and shitty motels don't provide condoms. Even the ones with good water pressure.
You rubbed the back of Frank's head gently as his thrusts grew more erratic, grabbing onto and playing with his hair. Suddenly, he pulled out of you and jerked his cock barely three times before he was finishing on your stomach with a quiet groan, painting it with his cum.
Breathing heavily, the two of you collapsed next to each other, coming down from your highs and processing what just happened. Idly, you began playing with the mess on your stomach as you thought about what was next for the two of you. There was no way in hell you were letting Frank drop you off at your house and just take off after that. You know you said "It's over," but it couldn't really be over, right?
"Stay with me," you whispered.
"I'm not goin' anywhere, baby."
"I'm not talking about tonight. When you take me back home, stay with me."
Frank pushed himself up on one elbow, looking at you in disbelief. "Sweetheart, I don't think I can-"
"Then I'll stay with you. My house is a family heirloom, I've only gotta pay for water and electricity. It'll still be waiting for me whenever I need it."
"I can't let you do that. You have no idea how much I want to, but I'd get you killed."
"Then stop moving for a while. No one would find you in that town. Just stay with me. Please. If you hate it, you can leave."
Frank sighed, glancing around the room before settling his gaze back on you. He brought his hand to your face, brushing his fingertips down your cheek like you were a precious artifact. You both knew he wasn't ready to let you go.
"Okay."
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
990 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 7 months
Note
Hi! I am absolutely in love with your writing! The way you portray our boys is just *chefs kiss*
Anywho, I was wondering if I could request poly!marauders x plus size reader? Maybe she is very confident until somebody picks on her and she starts becoming obsessed with dieting and stuff. (I'm struggling a lot with that rn) just a bunch of worry and comfort from our boys.
If you don't feel comfortable writing this or just the prompt I gave it's okay. Ily!♡
Hi, thanks for requesting my love! I'm really sorry you're struggling right now, I know how hard it can be and hope you're doing your best to take good care of yourself. You're beautiful just as you are <33
cw: size insecurity, behavior that hints at disordered eating
poly!marauders x plus size!reader ♡ 1.2k words
The worst part is, you know they weren’t even really trying to insult you. 
You smiled as best you could, said your thanks politely, and moved on. Moved on outwardly, that is. Inside, the words play over and over in your head, like a song on the radio that gets worse each time you listen to it. It wasn’t that they were vicious, or particularly clever, or even wrong. It’s just, you’re not used to people commenting on your body like that. 
You know you’re not skinny. So does everyone else. Neither of you typically feel the need to confer about it. Every now and again, some cruel busybody will say something, but that’s fairly easy to brush off. They’re insecure about their own looks, they have nothing better to do than fixate on strangers’ appearances, they’ve probably been on diet pills since they were twelve. You wish them well and mostly forget about it. But what’s worse is when someone comes to you with good intentions. The idea of being perceived as pitiful or wrong—really, having your physical form perceived at all—by someone who seems to want the best for you is what really hurts. That’s what makes you want to hide, to shrink yourself down until they can’t see you anymore. To become the invisible status quo. 
It’s why, over the last few days, anything skintight or remotely showy has been relegated to the back of your closet in favor of things that hide your figure. Why you’ve stopped drawing attention to yourself with colorful makeup and instead started focusing on your health. Well, your health as it presents itself externally. 
“Anyone else fancy a dessert?” Sirius muses as you sit reading on the couch, Remus reading the next book in the series beside you. 
“Um, no,” James says, holding up a hand of cards from the game he and Sirius have been playing, “you only want to go so you don’t have to stick around and lose.” 
“Whatever my other, subconscious motives may be,” Sirius says guilelessly, “I really feel like something chocolate. Don’t you, Moons?”
That’s always a safe bet. Remus looks up from his book, intrigued. “I could go for some chocolate.” 
Sirius grins. “What about you, gorgeous?”
That’s usually a safe bet too. But you shouldn’t. “Thanks, but I’m still full from dinner.” 
Sirius looks cheated, and Remus cocks his head at you. “Really? Didn’t seem like you ate much.” He’s not wrong. Remus had made the most incredible feta pasta, it was borderline heartbreaking to leave any on your plate. But you’re trying to practice restraint, and thankfully, James had happily taken care of your leftovers for you. “Did you have a late lunch or something?”
“Mhm.” 
James looks up, eyebrows furrow bemusedly behind his glasses. “No you didn’t, angel. You said you didn’t feel like lunch after we had breakfast together, remember?”
“Oh.” You nod. So what? You’d had a late breakfast, and a decently sized dinner, and why do you really need more than two meals anyway? Who made that rule? You’re a bit hungry, but your body just needs time to adjust to your new routine. It’s used to overindulging. And nothing about today means you deserve dessert. “Right.” 
Sirius wraps his fingers delicately around your ankle, smoothing a path up your shin with his palm. “Darling,” he says, and he looks distracted as he runs his fingers over the old scars on your knee, but you know him well enough to recognize when he’s keyed in, “did you eat anything today, other than breakfast and that little bit of dinner? Any snacks or anything?” 
You can’t help the little rush of pride that goes through you. “No.” 
Sirius doesn’t look proud. In fact, he’s frowning, as are Remus and James. You change tactics. “I’m not really hungry, though.” 
“No?” Sirius' voice is unsettlingly gentle. “Why don’t you want to have dessert tonight, pretty girl?”
“Because,” you say, beginning to feel defensive (though you’re not sure of what), “I don’t need it.” 
“It’s not about need, though,” James says, and why is it beginning to feel like you’re in an argument? “It’s about what you want. Do you want a little something sweet?”
“I…” Yes. The answer is yes, but do you want it more than you want to feel good about yourself? “I think what I want more is to prove to myself that I can go without it.” 
Remus’ scars shift as his face scrunches in concern. “Dove,” he says, and you can’t decide if his tone is more reprimand or pity. You don’t like either option. “Where is this coming from?” 
“I’m just…I’m trying something new,” you decide. “I want to lose a little weight, okay? Nothing crazy.” 
“But why?” James sets down his cards, looking completely befuddled. “Angel, you’re gorgeous. You can do whatever you want, but we love you just like you are.” 
“And,” Sirius adds before you can reply, “we love you most when you’re happy. I sort of thought,” he says, lowering his voice like he’s telling you a secret, “that our late-night treat runs made you happy. No?”
“They do.” You pull your legs up onto the couch, away from Sirius’ touch. “I just…I think it would make me happy to be a more normal size, too.” 
Remus looks gutted. “Honey, you…it’s your body, and you should do whatever feels right for you to be healthy, but…we love you like this,” he insists, ardent. “You’re beautiful, I mean it, and I hate the idea that you might want to change for…well, for anyone other than yourself.” 
You hesitate. You’re not actually sure who you’re doing this for. When had you become one of the people who want for you to be smaller so desperately? “You seriously don’t think I would look better if I were thinner?” You’ve never been one to put much stock into what any men think of your appearance, so you feel silly for asking, but you’re in a vulnerable state. And really, don’t all guys want a girl that looks like the love interests in the movies you all grew up with? 
James looks you in the eye, letting you see the earnestness in his as he says, “You’re absolutely lovely, right here, right now. We wouldn’t change a thing.” 
Your answering smile is oddly watery. Remus makes an awfully lovely cooing sound, leaning over to wrap an arm around your waist and paying no mind to the chub there as he pulls you into his side. “Don’t be upset, darling. You know what I bet will cheer you up?” He smiles as you look up at him questioningly, kissing between your brows. “Some chocolate. How would you feel about that?”
You let out a quiet little laugh. “Pretty good.” 
“Yes!” Sirius pumps his fist in the air, already abandoning his cards and standing up. “I knew you’d come through, gorgeous. Now I think the more pressing question is, do we want chocolate pastries or chocolate ice cream?”
“Ice cream, obviously,” James says. “Before it gets so cold out we don’t feel like it.” 
“Not all of us suffer from weather constraints,” Sirius argues. “I vote pastry.” 
“Why would you bring ice cream up if you didn’t want it? Think long and hard, Pads. Are you going to feel like a frozen dessert when you need three layers to go outside in a few weeks?”
Remus rolls his eyes at you as you follow them out the door, letting your boys continue their bickering all the way to the store.
688 notes · View notes
bonny-kookoo · 1 year
Text
Jungkook: 8:45 PM 🔞
Tumblr media
Tags/Warnings: Adult, smut-heavy, making out, Idol!Jungkook, Fluff, Established Relationship, implied foreigner!Reader, not home AU though, Jungkook struggling hard, misunderstanding, angst with happy end, emotional smut, oral (fem. Receiving), protected sex bc this is me writing this and I teach you kids the true life lessons
Lenght: long.
AU-Masterlist
Languages are marked as English / Korean.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
He still can't believe your first time got interrupted by something as ridiculous as his manager calling him.
It's like a reminder that his career will always somehow wiggle itself between him and whatever happiness he tries to find outside of it- nothing ever truly personal for him, everything always meant to be well thought through so it fits into his public persona.
But he refuses to give you up, even knowing all of that.
Apologizing for it just feels.. odd now, like bringing up something awkward you did ten years ago that everyone forgot about anyway before you decided to rekindle the memory in their heads. But the problem here, right now, with you, is that he knows he should bring it up. Somehow. Because he's struggling hard to keep himself in check, even having had to embarrassingly rub one out in the shower this morning after you'd made yourself tea in his kitchen wearing nothing but a shirt and panties.
It's a problem.
He's hesitating to initiate anything now mainly because what if it happens again? He can't just put his phone on silent and ignore what could potentially always be very important calls from people who only want what's best for him in the long run- real life doesn't work like those movies where the protagonist throws it all away for his girl. He wants to, he truly does- but at the end of the day, he's also scared, because if he falls, he'll potentially take you down with him, and God knows how deep he'll fall with where he stands right now.
A drop from a height this high would shatter you inevitably, and he's sure he'd crack like delicate porcelain just as much by having to watch you suffer the consequences of his actions. You don't deserve that.
"..-ungkookie?" You try again, and he snaps out of his thought, looking at you.
"Hm?" He responds, looking at you next to him.
"I asked if you want me to cook for us tonight. Is that alright?" You wonder, and he nods, eagerly so, because of course he'd love to have you do something so domestic with him. He's always dreamed of being able to experience these things after all, despite his curse of being a public figure who's not supposed to appear unavailable. "Alright-!" You hum. "Gonna have to put pants on now though, gotta go get some groceries.." you whine under your breath as you stretch on the couch naked feet pushing against his thighs and oh, how your back arches-
No, bad brain. Not right now.
"I'll give you my card, hold on." He tries to save himself, getting up to fetch his wallet as you begin to laugh.
"Jungkook baby, I can cover some groceries, don't bother!" You argue softly, getting up as well before walking over to him. "You'll just have to survive some minutes without me, that's all." You tell him, hugging his middle as you put your chin on his chest, looking up at him. "Also, people would think I'm a gold digger for using a black card looking like.. well, me." You joke, as he can't help but reach out to affectionately brush some hair out your face, hands holding your cheeks.
"M'sorry." He mumbles, and you part a bit from him, serious at his tone of voice used.
"Hm? For what?" You wonder, and he sighs. Why did he bring it up now? This is going to be so awkward, he already dreads it. But now that he's put the noose around his neck, he might as well stand on the chair too.
"Yesterday. Or.. day before? Technically it was, wasn't it.." he rants, before sighing. "I hate that we.. had moment, you know, and then.. nothing. Ruined." He complains softly, and you can't help but look at him affectionately. He's such a soft soul sometimes, worries about so much that doesn't even need to be worried about.
"Jungkook, it's fine." You answer.
"Not fine-" he shakes his head. "Not fine, I- ugh, I want you, you know? Want to, but now, it's awkward and I don't know how to initiate it because every time I plan to I keep thinking of that moment he called and-" he groans in frustration, head thrown back before he looks down at you. "I'm sorry." He apologizes yet again, and you laugh.
"I forgot to pack socks for this trip, that's why I'm always barefoot in your apartment here." You say, and he blinks once, twice, before he looks at you, confused but amused the same.
"What?" He questions, tilting his head for a split second and you shrug.
"Now I've made an awkward moment for myself too. We're even." You explain, and he laughs.
"Thats not how that works-" he wants to argue but he inevitably leans down to kiss you- a peck quickly deepened by you, because God knows you want him just as much. But the struggle of initiating isn't solely his alone, because you don't know how to either. All is still new with your relationship, you don't even live together at this point in time, only a week more and you'll be back home trying to figure out how to move most of your stuff to his country so you can be closer. This was all a test, after all- to see if it's worth it. If you'll be okay.
And you know now, you'll be just fine with him at your side.
"Hm I need to get going now though-" you say, trying to escape him now- but he won't let you, hands firm on the small of your back as he keeps you against him, lips chasing yours making you giggle as you lean back as far as you can. "Jungkook!" You laugh, but he just playfully bites at your neck.
"No, I'm hungry." He mumbles against your skin, and you look at him, pushing against his chest.
"Yeah that's why I have to go? Get everything to cook?" You remind him, but he shakes his head, gaze making it clear that he doesn't care for that.
"Not.. that." He tells you. "Hungry for you." He says, raising his brows and you laugh at how ridiculous he's being. How can he be both so cute but also attractive at the same time? It's truly unfair.
"You're so cute." You tease, catching him off guard to escape his grasp and run into the bedroom to get some proper pants at least. But he's faster, palm slapping flat against the wood of his door before the momentum of his move slams it into the wall with a loud noise, making both of you jump for a second before he stalks towards you.
And once the backs of your legs hit the edge of his bed, you know you lost.
It's like his patience had finally snapped, his hands eagerly helping you out of his shirt, happily running his palms over your skin, warm and soft as you move around a bit to get comfortable. He sighs when his phone vibrates somewhere close- probably having fallen out of his pocket on the couch earlier, and you laugh, visibly uncaring of his misery. "Go get it." You tell him when it sounds again, and he groans out loudly as if he's in pain, angrily stomping back into the living room, where you can hear him answer the call with an annoyed tone to his voice. It surprises you when he walks back into the bedroom however, pointing to the shirt you're attempting to put back on, before he motions for you to put it back on the floor where he'd thrown it down earlier.
Just what is he thinking right now?
"Yeah, that's fine." He talks into the phone, his free hand untying the strings of your sweatpants, before he pulls on the hem, tapping your hips as if to silently ask you to lift them so he can get you out of those pants. "Not right now, but tomorrow is fine." He continues to talk to whomever is speaking to him over the phone, while simultaneously running his hand from the side of your knee, up to the hem of your underwear, the last item of clothing covering you at the moment. It's oddly exciting to see him so serious, yet clearly more focused on you than anything else.
You've never felt so adored before.
His fingers slip underneath the side of your panties, teasing you, so close yet way too far from where you'd like his hands to be most right now. And he's clearly aware of it too; if the hooded eyes and the small smirk on his lips was anything to go by. "No, right now.. I'm pretty busy. Sorry." He speaks again into the phone, thumb running over the dip between your inner thigh and your by now more than aching heat. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip for a second, before the whole thing visibly seems to edge him just as much- then tent in his pants evident.
"Alright, yeah, just- text the schedule to me and I'll talk to you tomorrow about it, okay?" He offers into the phone, moving to stand up and search for something in the drawer of his bedside table- colorful foil package pretty obviously hinting at what he means when he's said he's currently busy. "Alright, hmhm, yup- bye." He rushes out, ending the call before he throws his phone somewhere onto the shirt you'd been wearing, his eyes rolling in an annoyed manner before he takes off his own shirt, joining you on the bed.
"Did you really hang up on him like that?" You wonder, giggling when he has to sit back to slip out of his loose grey sweats as well, jumping on one foot for a bit as his other gets stuck in the fabric for a second.
"I'm not sorry." He shakes his head, crawling closer to you on the mattress to get a hold of both sides of your panties. "I've got my hot girlfriend all pretty and ready, no one can ever blame me for being needy." He shrugs, shaking his hair out of his face before he tries to pull your underwear off. "Hey come on now!" He whines almost, a stark contrast to the tattooed, muscled appearance of him currently already flushed and fully erect, straining against the cotton of his own underwear.
"Needy." You tease, and suddenly, as if you'd pushed a button, as he suddenly pulls on the fabric with more determination, successfully getting rid of the item of clothing with a gaze that screams fake innocence. Jungkook isn't new to sex, and neither are you- but it's the first time doing it with each other, which naturally places a bit of pressure onto you.
Or maybe it usually should be like that- because somehow, it all comes naturally.
When his hand finds your heat, you're already melting underneath his gaze, no words spoken as he leans further over you, catching your lips again. Only that this time, he truly seems hungry; no longer offering you fleeting pecks but desperate kisses that try and convey just how much he wants you right now. He knows that he could never truly make it clear to you though- because he himself doesn't even know if that's possible.
He's never wanted anyone so bad.
And while usually not too fond of it, his need to prove himself as the perfect lover- emotionally and physically- makes him detach himself from you for a second, before he adjusts his position, leaning down to have you lay your legs over his shoulders, hands holding your thighs apart as he lays his mouth onto your heat.
It's an entirely new experience for you, and he knows.
But luckily, if your Impatient whining was anything to go by, you're definitely enjoying yourself as he flattens his tongue over your sensitive nerves, eyes focused on you while he has to use a little strength to keep your legs apart, especially when you grow close to your first orgasm. He's eager to see it, moving away to gain a better view before one of his hands finishes the job, gaze on you as you arch your back and come undone from his actions.
And its now that he really can't take it any longer.
"Fuck I need you." He curses under his breath, finally getting rid of the last item of clothing he still had on until now, no need to give his length any form of help to get ready for you. He can't help but groan a little under his breath at how sensitive he feels, rushing the act of wrapping the condom over as to not rile himself up too much.
After all, he wants to be inside you for his own orgasm, no matter what.
"Hm I'll go slow, ok?" He asks, and you nod, hands reaching out for him, making him chuckle. "You're cute." He comments, earning a roll of your eyes in return. He lets it go for now- giving you a pass this time, but only because be truly feels needy now.
He'd love to tease you a little, make you all whiny and desperate for him, but right now, he just wants you as close as he physically can get.
Though in his haste to get onto his own road towards pleasure, he never forgets you- pride swelling as he watches you hold onto him, wanting him just as much as he wants you. He's a little sweaty already, and the sheetsbare tangled badly at this point from all your squirming, arousal already staining some parts of them but right now he really can't bring himself to care.
He uses one of his hands to aid him in finding your entrance, positioning himself to carefully push himself inside, and at this point, he just feels as if he truly became one with you. It's the last key experience in a way he's had to have with you, and now that he's in exactly that moment, things start to feel real.
"I love you." He almost whispers into your neck while he starts to move. "I'm.. so grateful you're here." He tells you, hips moving at a steady pace. "I want you to.. stay forever." He almost asks, in a way, and while you can't give him an answer to that right now, you probably will later.
After you're back with the normal thinking human beings, because right now, with his pace and strength gaining as he chases his high, your head is definitely unable to form thoughts.
In a way, he loves the sight of you like this. It's awfully sinful, a sight only he wants to ever be able to see, no one else.
He can't control his own noises at this point, uncaring of his groans of pleasure as he chases after his peak, noticing you growing antsy as well, visibly eager to cum as well. And he will make sure you'll get your attention as well- he'd never let you down, ever.
And with his hand reaching in between you both to find where he needs to be, you're gone and out; head thrown back into the pillows while he pushes himself in deep, condom filling with his seed while he slows down into almost no movement at all.
Catching his breath, he leans down to you to kiss you once more, ticking of his clock on the bedside table coming back into the background noise, as well as the cars outside from the opened window, and your breathing underneath him. His senses return one by one as he pulls himself out, moving to get rid of the condom and start the shower.
"Come on." He asks, tapping your thigh, but you just whine all grumpy at him. "Noo get up, get up- the bed's all messy and we're too.!" He laughs, all energized from his own afterglow, while you seem to be the exact opposite, having to be physically pulled into a sitting position by your wrists. Jungkook himself can't help but simply laugh, before he takes matters into his own hands, lifting you up over his shoulder-
And of course, landing a loud smack onto your butt for good measure.
1K notes · View notes
all-too-random · 7 months
Text
We Don't Waste Food
Sanji Vinsmoke (OPLA) x reader
Sanji notices that you haven't been eating very much.
TW: Reader is implied to be in the process of recovering from an ED. The type/reasoning behind it has purposefully been left vague. Mentions of thr0wing up/feeling sick. Sanji wants to help but may do so in a way that not everyone finds helpful. Also he's kind of pushy in the beginning.
A/N: This is a very self indulgent fic based on my own struggles. If it is something you relate to and this helps, I am glad you found some comfort in it/sorry you relate. If you dont, please be kind anyway :) Also this is my first ever x reader fic in 7 years of writing fanfiction.
"I'm full," the sound glass scraping against wood rang throughout the dining cabin as you pushed your plate out of the way, glancing nervously at your lap, "Anyone who wants my leftovers can have them." Luffy reached across the table, already grabbing for the food on the plate. Sanji's hand reached it first, though, and the blonde chef made eye contact with you as he pushed the plate back to your spot. "Y/N, darling," he said. He was smiling, but his stare portrayed a more serious expression, "We don't waste food." You crossed your arms over your chest, your eyes meeting his blue ones, "I'm not trying to be wasteful, that's why I offered it up. I knew someone would want-" He cut you off, smile disappearing, "You need to eat it yourself. It's your favorite, I made it just for you." You nodded once, acknowledging the effort he put in, "And it was delicious. But now I'm full." There was a certain bitterness to your words, causing Sanji to hesitate. The rest of the crew looked on silently, exchanging nervous glances at one another as the scene played out. You barely paid them any notice, keeping your eyes locked on Sanji as you shoved yourself away from the table and stood up. "We don't waste food. So someone else can eat it, I'm not going to."
Your boots thudded against the wooden floor of the ship as you stomped away, suddenly feeling the need for fresh air. You didn't stop until you were at the edge of the deck. The wind whipped your hair around and you watched the sky turn orange against the clear water as the sun set on the horizon. Tears pricked at your eyes. They rolled over your cheeks despite your attempts to sniff them away, so you gave up. You were alone, anyway. No reason to hide your tears out here. They just didn't get it, you thought. Although it's not like you had ever tried explaining it to them before. You never meant to waste food. You just couldn't stop it. No matter how hungry you felt beforehand, your appetite seemed to wither the second food was in front of you. More than half a portion made you feel sick, and throwing your meals up into the sea felt worse than just offering it to someone who would it eat.
"Nice evening, isn't it madam?" You whipped your head around, quickly trying to wipe the tears from your face. Sanji stood several feet behind you, smiling once again, but still with a grim aire about him. "Yes, it is," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady as you turned back towards the ocean, "Very peaceful." You could hear the heels of the chef's shoes clicking against the wood until he appeared right next to you, resting his elbows on the edge of the ship. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him looking at you, studying your features. "I'm still not hungry," you told him, and you couldn't decide whether or not it was a lie. You were hungry, or at least, you should be. But you knew no more food would stay in your stomach for long. Sanji chuckled, dipping his head down, "Well, I gathered that much, love. I just can't figure out why. Only a banana for breakfast and nothing at lunch, by all means, you should be starving." You looked at him, eyebrows crinkled in confusion, "You know what I ate?" "I keep track," he says, shrugging his shoulders, "Helps me with my meal planning. I thought for sure you'd have a good dinner tonight, especially since I made something I knew you'd love." "I did love it," you admitted to him, sighing into the wind, "I just... don't eat much. It's hard." "Hard to eat?" He raised an eyebrow at you, "It shouldn't be, we have plenty of-" "Not like that," you cut him off, waving your hand through the air, "I know we have food, I just can never hold much of it. When I was younger, I forced myself not to eat... and I must have gotten good at it, because now I can't. And I hate it, because I get so hungry only to push food away, and I feel so wasteful." You could feel tears threatening to fall again, so you laughed, trying to act like there was nothing upsetting about the situation whatsoever. Sanji, however, did not laugh. He looked at you with sad eyes, which was even more intense since the wind was pushing his hair out of his face, meaning you could see both of them. It was quiet for a moment, with no noise but the waves lapping at the bottom ship. Then, the chef let out a sigh, opening his arms. You fell into him, burying your face into his pin-striped shirt. His strong arms immediately wrapped around you, his chin resting gently atop your head. "Thank you for telling me," he said quietly, placing a kiss against your hair, "I'm sorry I pushed you so hard." "It's alright," you whispered back, allowing yourself to cry on him, "You didn't know." He squeezed you tighter, "Well, now that I do know, I'm still worried about you. The way you've been eating still isn't healthy. I'll start giving you smaller portions, so you don't have to feel wasteful. And when you're ready, I'll gradually give you more. Like baby steps. Can you agree to that, my dear?" Pain shot through the inside of your cheek as you bit down, thinking his words over. Recovery was hard, but Sanji was willing to help.... You nodded your head, accepting the offer, "Little, tiny baby steps." Sanji laughed softly, running his fingers through your hair, "Sure, little, tiny baby steps. Whatever it takes, love. Would dessert be a good start?" He raised an eyebrow at you, and you laughed, "Well, that depends... what kind of dessert?"
517 notes · View notes
eggyrocks · 1 month
Text
type-t.kageyama
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: kageyama's unsure of exactly what his type is, until his roommate asks if a friend can stay with them. just for a bit.
tags: kageyama tobio x f! reader, roommates to lovers, opposites attract trope, fluff-ish ig?
words: 2.1k
warnings: language, slutty thoughts, smoking, slightly slutty content but not quiet smut, probably not the best i wrote this in a haze, minors dni
an: i have brain rot and a crush on kageyama. i don't know if im going to write something like this again.
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆。𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆。𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆。𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆。𖦹°‧★ ☆⋆。𖦹°‧
If you asked Kageyama what his type was before, he’s not sure what he would say. Probably something generic, something that meant nothing. Someone nice. Someone pretty. A good personality. A pretty smile. He would probably just spit out a mouthful of nothing with a red face and a stutter and think nothing else of it.
And it’s not like it’s something that he’s ever put a lot of thought into. He’s never really had the time. There have been girls, sure. Pretty ones that slipped into his room between games and practices and scheduled appearances. With pretty, soft faces and an intrigue at his profession. And they were fine. But when they gather their belongings and tip toe out of his room without a word, he did nothing to stop them. Kageyama would just pretend to sleep and feel relieved once his bed was empty again.
He liked them for the night. But there was nothing in any of the girls he brought home that made his skin hot. The thought of their thighs didn’t make him squirm, didn’t dry out his tongue or pick up his heart rate. He couldn’t remember the patterns of freckles splattered on their backs or the shape of their mouth or the cadence of their voice. Nothing about any girl he had ever met took hold of him.
And then, his roommate asked him for a favor.
“C’mon, she’s one of my best friends, and she has nowhere else to go,” Hinata had begged him. It was a strategic time to bring it up; when Kageyama was both tired and envigored from a practice, too worn to argue and too pleased from his performance to be in a bad mood. Hinata must’ve been waiting for that opportunity. “We have that spare room and she said she could help pay rent!”
Her living situation was awful, Hinata told him. Her roommates treated her horribly and she paid most of the expenses and it’s just temporary, anyways. Don’t even worry, because it’s just until she’s able to find a place of her own and you won’t even notice she’s here!
So Kageyama agreed. Too tired to argue and in too good of a mood to be annoyed. And ever since then, he’s regretted it.
Because he does notice she’s there. She leaves her dishes in the sink for hours before she cleans them. She listens to music loudly and she stays up late laughing loudly over nothing with Hinata in the living room. She takes too long in the shower and uses up the hot water and, more than anything, Kageyama is driven insane by how much he finds himself wanting her.
It only took a second for him to figure out his type once she stepped past their doorway, two duffle bags in her hand and this crooked, devilish grin on her face. It’s just her, whatever she is.
He likes girls who are bold. Like ones who introduce themselves by dropping everything in their hands to pull him into a tight, long-lasting hug. One where she presses herself firmly against him, letting him feel every soft curve and sharp edge there is to her.
He likes girls who are messy. Like a girl that goes out at night and comes home the next morning and kicks off her shoes and outer layer of clothes, leaving them strewn across the whole apartment for him to find later. Like a girl that wakes up with smudged makeup and brews coffee with unbrushed hair.
Girls that tease him. Girls that play loud music from their room. Girls that laugh loudly and unapologetically. Girls that smell like cheap perfume and expensive cigarettes. Girls that steal food from the pan while he cooks and girls who leave the bathroom steamy and laced with their scent.
Kageyama likes girls who are like that, girls like her.
Hinata must’ve known this would be the result. When she brushes against him or stands on the tips of her toes to ruffle the top of his hair or does something else that makes Kageyama red and desperate, more often than not, Hinata will be there, smirking like this not just what he was expecting, but what he wanted.
The worst part is that he can’t really complain. She pays rent on time.
It’s six in the morning when he steps out onto the balcony with his breakfast (diced fruits, scrambled egg whites, and a protein shake), and he is surprised to see her out there with hers (a half-smoked cigarette, a cup of hot black coffee, and a cold slice of pizza). Kageyama tries to avoid looking at her, and definitely does not notice that her outfit consists of a pair of crumbled boxers and a white tank top that rides up her midriff. He doesn’t notice anything like the imprints of the inseam of her jeans on her thighs or the bit of dried toothpaste that stains the direct center of her wrinkled top.
“Hey Kags,” she greets, smile rough but voice rougher. She leans towards him as he settles his breakfast down on their small standing table. The lit cigarette is perched precariously between two fingers that she shoves towards his face. “Want a smoke?”
His response is a gentle whack of her wrist, knocking it away from him. “Get that shit out of my face,” he grumbles, and is rewarded with the sound of her laugh. “Did you even sleep last night? I’ve never seen you up this early.”
Her eyes roll as she leans up against the edge of the balcony, looking over the landscape of the city. “I was at work until like three-thirty this morning. Then my coworker invited me back to her place. I was there until about forty minutes ago, been here ever since.”
The schedule of a bartender makes him sick. He can’t ever imagine it. Kageyama’s always treated his whole body like a machine, something that required through and proper maintenance and he is sure that if he treated his like she did hers for a whole twenty-four hours, he’d never recover.
But here she stands before him, downing hot coffee and squishing out the tip of her cigarette on the ashtray they didn’t own until she moved in. Kageyama figures he likes girls like that, too. Ones that are strong in ways that he’s not. “Damn,” is all he can manage to say. He can’t think of anything that’s not stupid.
“Yeah,” she sighs, and rests her chin against the palm of her hand and leans out further against the railing. Kageyama has to fight the urge to grab her by the collar and pull her back. She’s not cautious, not afraid of anything. “Maybe it’s time to settle down and find a man to take care of me,” she muses, almost like she's talking to herself. Kageyama watches, and hesitantly chews at his breakfast.
She leans back, hand still gripping the railing and using it to prop herself up. “What about you, Kags? You wanna take care of me?”
He chokes on his pineapple.
His eyes are watering as his coughs slow, and he looks up at her with an agape expression, stunned to see that she’s not laughing at him. She’s not poking at his side or making fun of his blush. She’s looking at him like she’s waiting for an answer. “Are you serious?” he questions, voice tight.
She rolls her neck, and then shrugs, like she’s trying to shake an answer out of herself. “I dunno. I think me and you would be a good match, don’t you think? We could take care of each other. You could reign me in and make me take things more seriously. I could get you to lighten up and relax sometimes so your hair doesn’t turn grey by the time you’re thirty.”
Kageyama’s stunned. He can’t do anything but stare at her as his brain tries to catch up with his words. His face burns and he feels so dumb and is this a confession? Is she trying to tell him that maybe he’s not so stupid for wanting her? But before he can process exactly what it is she just said to him, she’s shaking her head. “You know what? Don’t worry about it,” she smiles at him, and slides past him, leaving the balcony door open behind her.
And it’s only once she’s gone that Kageyama is able to get it. He whips around, eyes wide and mouth half-opened with unspoken words. But she’s disappeared, locking herself in the bathroom. And Kageyama has a practice to get to.
He doesn’t get home until later that evening. And when he goes get there, there’s a light pouring from the cracks of her closed door, and soft music emitting from behind it. Kageyama needs to eat and he needs to shower and he needs to stick to his schedule but tonight, he has more important things to take care of.
Without thinking about it, Kageyama grabs the handle of her door and pushes it open with perhaps a little more strength then needed. He steps into her room and closes the door behind him and maybe he should’ve thought about it a little bit harder because she’s wearing nothing but a big t-shirt that reaches the middle of her thighs. “Dude?’ she questions at his intrusion, raising an eyebrow at him.
“I do want to take care of you!” Kageyama blurts out at her, and her eyes go wide. “I really like you a lot and also I am very, very attracted to you, and I would really like to be with you. I basically have since you moved in. I just-“
She stands from the edge of her bed and takes a few long steps before she’s standing directly in front of him, head titled and looking up at him through her eyelashes. He swallows. “I just didn’t want to make things weird,” he finishes, struggling through the constricting in his chest.
“You want me?” she questions, blinking. And the only response he can manage is a small nod of his head. He doesn’t trust his voice not to betray him and his thoughts are running to quickly for him to hold onto any single one of them. The only thing he can understand completely is his growing, desperate need and the heat that radiates from her body. “Show me,” she tells him.
The words echo is brain for a second before he can fully comprehend them. But once he does, and he sees that her expression just might be as desperate as his, he’s compelled to oblige her. He raises a hand to the back of her head and rakes it through the roots of her hair, fingers tangling in them before he pulls slightly. This elicits a slight noise from her throat, and there’s no going back for Kageyama. Any bit of self-control he might have had snaps at once.
He presses his mouth against her and is enamored by the taste of her. Minty and smoky; peppermint lip balm and hundreds of cigarettes. His tongue slips into her mouth and everything intensifies. Kageyama’s overwhelmed by the way she feels and tastes and how her tongue slides against his and the little noises that keep spilling into his mouth.
Her hands work their way under the edge of his shirt, her palms pressing into his bare skin and suddenly it’s not enough. He needs more of her and he needs it now.
It’s foreign to him. This need that grows with the second. This desire that overtakes him and makes him forget everything that’s not her. He’s never felt like this before, not with anyone else that he’s ever been with. And it excites him, to feel so intensely. It keeps him up all night, exploring every bit of her he can, with his mouth, with his hands. He memorizes every detail about her he can. He remembers which noises come from her and what actions cause them. He remembers every inch of her skin. He remembers what his name sounded like spilling from her lips in a haze of pleasure and want, strewn together with pleading and cursing.
When morning comes, he still hasn’t showered, and he needs one more than ever. She’s asleep, forehead resting on his bare chest and snoring lightly. He likes this too, how soft she looks, how gentle. Kageyama likes the look of her in his hold, peaceful and content to be caged in by his arms. He hopes the next morning can be like this, too. Perfect. Quiet.
The only thing that ruins the moment is the loud slamming on the other side of the door, followed by Hinata’s unbearably cheerful voice. “Kageyama, I knew she’d be your type!”
269 notes · View notes
judasgot-it · 1 year
Note
Ello o/, I really like your writing style. May i req the reader pretends to be a client but actually a member of the agency but the ADA doesn't remember the reader because they have an ability to make anyone/everyone forget they exist and used it to protect the agency also dazai is the only one who remembers them.
I'm so sorry I took so long to get to this request I've been busy with life and all of that lame stuff
Also, I hope you don't mind but I changed it a Lil to be a two-parter with Ranpo as well, I feel like he would figure it out pretty quickly
Scenario: reader visits the ADA pretending to be a client. Dazai is the only one who remembers them working for the agency. (Dazai, Ranpo)
Part 1; Dazai
Tumblr media
"So what brings someone as lovely as you to the agency today?"
Dazai was standing in front of you, giving you his best smile. He was holding your hand and reciting his lines as if you were in a play - although between the two of you, he looked like he was giving a performance for the ages.
"Dazai, you can't flirt with everyone that comes into the agency. You know this."
Kunikida had walked over from his desk, making sure to check up on your conversation. He just wanted to ensure you actually got the help that you needed and weren't swept away by Dazai's antics.
A part of you missed this.
"Oh, we're fine Kunikida. In fact, Dazai was just going to lead me to your consultation room so he could help me with my case."
You were covering for Dazai. Old habits die hard you suppose.
"You know, you shouldn't stress out so much Kunikida, you'll get grey hairs. Actually? I think you have some already!"
Dazai took this as his chance to poke around Kunikida's head, 'showing' him his gray hairs. You had to put a hand over your mouth to stop your laughter as you watched the two of them argue.
"I'll be in the room waiting on you Dazai. I don't have all day, you know?"
You walked out of the room, leading yourself through the building. Nothing really changed since you'd been there, although you could spot a couple of new faces among those working at their desks.
It was nice to see the agency moving on and continuing to grow.
The room was a bit different as well. They had finally replaced the old chairs that had been torn in a fight.
They were now a softer, blue fabric. The room seemed more softer, especially for what the room always brought with it.
"So, you finally decided to come back?"
Dazai appeared behind you, closing the door to the room - giving the two of you some much-needed privacy.
The curtain had closed on your little play.
"Well, only to visit. I'm leaving Yokohama tomorrow so I thought I'd stop by beforehand and see how you were all doing."
You looked behind you to see Dazai smiling. Although, you could clearly tell it wasn't a happy one.
"Let's sit down, I feel like you're going to want to know a bit about where I've been. I'll tell you if you promise to keep it a secret, ok?"
You had already moved to sit down on the small office chairs in the room - they were cozy enough for what would essentially be an interrogation.
Dazai wanted answers from you. Knowing him, he was going to get them one way or another - no matter how nice he was about it.
It was hard to stay silent anyway. He was the only man who really knew your predicament. You had hunches about everyone else, but it wasn't like they could escape your ability.
Even if they had this feeling about you, they couldn't escape the gap in their memories. No matter what, you were just a blindspot to them. The moment they met you, they would forget about you once again.
"You want to know why I left the agency, right?"
The most you left behind was a vague sense of unease. Not knowing why you had a sense of dejavue over a certain book and wondering why you know so much about something.
It was a great ability to have for a vagabond.
Dazai shook his head, placing it between it on his folded hands.
"You caught me there. I know how you did it, but I don't know if I can really figure out your why."
You looked to the window.
"Why did you leave when you were happy? Is it some form of punishment? It's got me really curious."
The view was perfect. Nothing would come and distract you from having to respond to the question.
He caught you, like a bird in flight.
"Because I don't have a choice. The longer I stay anywhere, the more dangerous I become. Right now I am just a ghost - I'm sure the president knows I exist, but can never really put a thumb on it."
You tried to wiggle around in your seat, looking as if you were in complete control.
"But if I stayed, eventually the feeling of being forgotten would wear off. It's painful being ignored, but when it happens all the time I can never feel the pain - I'm numb. But the agency?"
You let a watery smile out. Being in the room, finally talking to someone that wasn't a stranger. Talking to Dazai, who actually remembered you no matter how many times you activated your ability.
It was refreshing.
The walls that you had built up were breaking down.
"We got close. But eventually, I saw that their memory would get spotty, and it was happening again. I can't stand to see the people I love to forget about me, I don't want to become a stranger to them."
You hid your eyes behind your hands, trying to shield them from the sun. That's why they were dripping tears. Telling yourself this helped stave them off.
"So you left before that could happen, right?"
You felt an arm wrap around you, pulling you close.
Dazai's jacket wasn't exactly the softest, but you stayed close as you tried to push back your tears. You knew this visit would be hard, that you would have a hard conversation - but you didn't want to break down.
You tried to mumble out some sort of excuse or apology but your words were failing you.
Which left you with nothing but silence.
"Dazai. Thank you for not forgetting about me."
You took the lapels of his jacket in your hands, pulling him closer. You hadn't hugged someone who wasn't a stranger in so long. This was a feeling you definitely missed since your departure from the ADA.
"Y/n."
Dazai pulled away, bending down so the two of you were face to face. He cupped your face with his surprisingly calloused hands, analyzing you with his soft brown eyes.
He let out a breath, in some emotion that you couldn't really place.
"Anytime."
He backed away, wiping away his serious demeanor with a Cheshire smile.
"Besides. It's not like I have a choice in it. You know, you leave quite the impression on people!"
There was something behind those words. You felt it. The way he missed you, how it was unsaid in the air but was shown in the way he kept eyeing you.
He still kept his hands on you, as if the moment he let go, you would once again fade into a burning memory that only he was cursed to hold. Like so many other moments in his life.
A part of you wanted to stay, just for him. The feeling of his hand on your shoulder as he led you throughout the building, keeping you around so you could talk to the members one last time.
But your mind was unfortunately set.
He was nice enough to introduce you to the new members who had joined in your absence - it was a smart ploy.
He was trying to bide time, keeping an arm wrapped tightly around you while he joked around with Atsuhi about some memories they had a while back.
You could see how he tried to make you seem as if you never had left. As if you were always here.
It was a really smart ploy. It almost made you want to cancel your ability just so you could see everyone understand the inside joke that Dazai had said. One that only now you two understood.
If he was quiet after you had gone, staring at the papers at his desk - well that was, unfortunately, a secret only he would know.
Part 2; Ranpo
Tumblr media
You were set to depart Yokohama in less than an hour. In the meantime, you were meandering the train station, biding your time.
After having visited the ADA again, you felt a bit lost. You truly did want to stay - but you felt that the ramifications of that action would be worse than if you continued living as a vagabond.
Your ability altered people's memories to the point that they themself would forget about your existence one day - the curse of being able to run away at a drop of a hat.
You can always run, but seemingly never stay. Somehow, they would always forget about you. Either gradually or suddenly, you knew that it would happen.
Freedom was a blessing, but it always came at a high price.
"Is this line A? I don't really know the system around here well."
Ranpo had sat next to you, making you jump in shock.
He was looking at you, waiting for your answer. He didn't seem to recognize you - not from earlier in the day, and not from when you had worked together.
It was a blessing, you supposed.
You took a breath to calm down.
"Yeah, you have the right one. It's not coming for an hour or so though, so you have time."
You hoped he would walk away. Being near anyone from your past always made you hurt in some way or another.
He seemed stubborn though, drapping his shoulders across the back of the bench and spreading his legs out in front of him - like a starfish on a rock, leaving himself out to sunbathe.
"I think I know you from somewhere. Do I?"
That made you stop.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I just mean - have we met before? You seem familiar. I have a feeling I met you, kind of like..."
He put his hand in his pocket, unwrapping a lollipop.
"I can't put my finger on the word..."
He stuck it in mouth with a loud pop.
"Dejavu?"
You supplied it to him, hoping he would go away. A cold, sinking had settled into your gut.
"Yeah! That's right!"
He looked at you, smiling wide. You realized your mistake when you saw that he had his glasses on.
"That's your ability name, right, Y/n?"
This was when you realized how unsettlingly quiet this station was. The announcement on the intercom felt like it was ringing in your ears.
Ranpo was still staring at you, waiting for you to piece a sentence together.
"Do you remember me?"
The man shrugged, settling back down. He was comfortable enough to take up more of your space than you had realized - his legs brushing up against yours.
"No. But I know that I could - if you let me. The ADA is a detective agency, Y/n. You can't exactly run forever when you have us on your tail."
Ranpo didn't wait for you to comprehend what he was saying. He leaned in close, your noses brushing up against each other.
"You're going to keep coming back."
"So. What are you going to do then?"
He said it in a monotone voice, as a simple statement.
"And even you think we won't find you - I will. I'm the best detective. No mystery is beyond me, not even your ability."
He waved up some papers. They were notes, photos and documents.
He was tracking you.
Ranpo smiled.
"I could go for some coffee."
"I dunno. You want to stay. I'm pretty hungry right now."
He was waving the documents around in a small circle, still refusing to give you space.
It was subtle, but you weren't going to get away from him without a chase.
I'm leaving the ending super open-ended, but Ranpo catches everyone in his life in weird ways so I feel like he'd do it this way too cause if you can somehow escape him once you're on his mental list
462 notes · View notes
grievedeeply · 1 year
Text
the less time, the better. pt 4.
Tumblr media
PREVIOUS | NEXT
pairing: heimdall x gn!reader
summary: heimdall takes some time to attempt to unpack his feelings. feeling guilty for leaving without saying goodbye, you decide you want to visit your family back at home to explain your choice to go to asgard.
notes: sorry for no heimdall x reader interactions this time buuuut we get atreus. next chapter will prob be similar to this, but i need to keep them apart for a bit so heimdall can think LOL. also, this one is shorter than the other chapters but i don't really care i just wanted to write. this is a bit of a filler anyways LOL
it had taken a bit of consideration, but you had decided to return home to your family. not seeing your brother had an effect on you, and you began to worry about them. you knew they would be worrying about you. you left without a word. you could only wonder how mad your father would be with you, but that was something you would have to deal with when you got there.
you pushed the door open to odin's study, holding your hands together in front of you. you felt almost.. anxious to ask to go home. it wasn't like you were leaving anything important behind in asgard. you brushed the nervousness aside, greeting odin with a thin lipped smile.
"ah. just the person i wanted to see," he said without even looking up from his desk. "we have big things to do. much to accomplish. you still need to make your trip to niflheim, remember?" he finally glanced up at you as he spoke, and he furrowed his eyebrows. "you're not here for that, are you?" he chuckled, standing up from his seat. he moved around the table to stand in front of you, his hands resting on your shoulders. if you didn't know better, you would think he cared about you.
your thoughts moved to his sons. thor, a man torn apart by his father's judgement of him, who only used him for his strength and power. baldur, who died in part because of him. heimdall.. you didn't even know where to start when it came to him. it felt like there was more underneath his glamorous outer shell, but you didn't need to figure that out anytime soon.
"no," you shook your head, "i'd like to go home. visit my family." you told him, and all he did was hum. "you're free to do so. though.. i do need that," he pointed to the mask that hung from your belt with his finger, "back before you go." you took it off, handing it over to him with no hesitation.
"huginn will be waiting for you at your home in midgard when you decide to return." he told you, ravens beginning to swirl around you as they had done so many times in the past. "oh.. and tell mimir i said hello." you said nothing back, and you appeared in your childhood home.
if you focused hard enough, you swore you could feel your mother's presence again.
you closed your eyes, taking in the cool air once more. you turned your attention to huginn, who only cawed at you. "you might he waiting a while." you muttered, the door creaking as you pushed it open. you trudged through the snow, making your way to the mystic gateway that sat in your front yard.
you looked forwards, only being met with a gaping chasm in the ground. it only made you think of baldur, and of odin. you hated that. you remembered fighting him all those years ago.. how desperate he was to feel. how much he hated freya. you remembered it all, and sometimes you wished you didn't.
you opened the door, and stepped onto the branches of the world tree. it had been what felt like forever since you'd been through them, and the closer you came to home the tighter your chest felt. you missed them. you could only hope everything went okay in your absence.
another doorway appeared in front of you, and you found yourself in sindri's yard. ratatoskr was nowhere to be found, which wasn't something that surprised you. he was almost always busy, but you couldn't help but to wonder if he kept his word.
you took in a breath, pushing open the door to sindri's house after a moment of brief hesitation.
"kid?" brok's voice called out, and he took a few quick steps towards you. "you're back!" his volume increased as he spoke, "you are back.. ain't ya?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked up at you suspiciously. nice to know some things never change. you laughed, "i'm back."
"good. other kid's been worried sick. your dad, too." he told you, and you pursed your lips. this was exactly what you didn't want, but you knew it would happen. "where are they?" he shrugged his shoulders, "how am i supposed to fuckin' know?" he retorted. you rolled your eyes.
"nice to have you back." he spoke again after a pause, and you smiled down at him. "thanks, brok." you turned your attention away from him and to atreus' room. that's where he would be if he weren't out with your father.
you knocked, letting out a shaky breath. "what?" his voice called back from the other side of the door, and you frowned at the sound of it. you let him down, didn't you? you pushed open the door, and he stood up at the speed of light, holding his hands out to try to close it again. he froze, his mouth falling open at the sight of you.
he took another step, his arms wrapping around your waist without saying a word. you practically melted into his touch. your little brother's hugs were always the best. you rubbed his back, bending down a little to be closer to his height. not like you need to, anymore. he was getting taller every day, it seemed like.
"you went to asgard, didn't you?" he asked, his voice quieter than he'd ever been before. you nodded, "yeah. i did."
"why?"
"you know why, atreus." you whispered with pursed lips. he knew. he just didn't like that you left him. you knew that, too. he was still just a kid. you forgot that, sometimes.
"you should've taken me with you." he muttered, barely loud enough for you to hear. "oh, atreus," you pulled away from the hug, trying to look into his eyes. you sat his hands on his shoulders. he avoided even looking at you. "i missed you too." you told him.
"you aren't staying." he said, and you bit at the inside of your cheek. "no. i'm not. i need to go back. i'm getting close. i can feel it." you assured him, squeezing his shoulders. "stop." he whispered.
"what?"
"stay."
"you know i can't. i need to do this."
"you don't need to do anything alone!" atreus raised his voice, and you sighed. you closed your eyes. "i know. and i would've loved for you to come with me, atreus. you're my best friend. my partner in crime," you chuckled, "but i couldn't risk you getting hurt. me going was enough on father, don't you think?"
atreus swallowed. he was growing into a brave man.. and you couldn't be prouder. "how was it?" he asked after a moment of silence, and you managed to smile. he would understand why you went on your own fully some day, but this was enough for you for now.
"it was.. interesting. i thought about you a lot, you know." you chuckled, tussling his hair with one of your hands. "stop." atreus laughed, leading you back out of his room and into the main area of the house.
"met thor's daughter, thrúd. you'd like her." you told him, pulling out a chair at the wooden table in the middle of the room to sit down in. "thor's daughter?" he raised an eyebrow, "i'd like her?" he shook his head. "she's aesir."
"she's a good kid. you'd like her. trust me." you shrugged your shoulders, taking in the feeling of being home again. "where's father?"
"vanaheim. he should be back, soon." he told you. "why aren't you with him?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "he's with freya. they're helping her brother with.. something. i don't know what."
you fell into silence, leaning back against the uncomfortable texture of the wood you sat in. "freya?" you raised an eyebrow, last you knew she was wanting to kill him. "yeah." was all he said in response. you said nothing else about it.
"how's he holding up?" you asked, staring up at the ceiling.
"he's definitely not happy. but.. i guess he's okay."
somehow, you knew atreus was telling the truth. your father would understand why you left, even if it made him angry at first. he had to have calmed down a bit by now, and it would be easier to face him whenever he came back. unless you left before he arrived.
"i'll stay. until he gets back. i need to talk to him."
"your funeral." atreus shrugged, throwing a fruit into his mouth that had sat in a bowl on the table.
you had a lot of catching up to do.
you'd let yourself forget about asgard. just for a little while.
Tumblr media
it was quiet without you around.
he should be happy about that, shouldn't he? happy that a giant was out of his home, even if it would be for a short amount of time. though, a part of him felt.. different about your absence.
it had already been a few days since you'd left, but he found himself expecting you to be in the mess hall or training— but you were never there. he should be happy about it.
it was too quiet.
it's not like you were loud physically, but your presence was. people knew you were there, and they spoke often about you, even after you'd left. he would hear people speaking of the giant odin brought into asgard, and every time he heard their words, he thought of how you embarrassed him.
you beat him. he remained at a loss. no one else had ever harmed him before. he still didn't know how to react to it. he was curious, but it seemed like you didn't even know how you'd hit him.
'i don't know. just did.' you said to him, weeks ago at this point. you had been in asgard for that long already? it didn't feel like it, at least not to him.
what was that pounding in his chest? it only occurred whenever he thought of you. your stupid.. beautiful.. face, plaguing his mind. he couldn't think of a giant in that way. he couldn't think of you that way. he knew who your father was, and he knew full well what he and the rest of your dastardly family had done over the years. killing thor's sons.. baldur. he had to force himself to remember them.
he didn't care about them too much, anyways. though.. he remembered magni and modi in their younger years. they'd loved him. he remembered them wanting him to fight him, and they would be impressed every time he dodged their child-like swings. they were tiny, then. now, they were gone.
baldur was nothing special, not in his eyes. he thought of forseti— his son. he remembered how he reacted when he found out.
.. you didn't kill them. your father did.
that wasn't you.
he took in a sharp breath, running his hands through his unbraided hair. what was he doing? thinking of you in this way was.. wrong. it was.
'you falling for me, pretty boy?'
your voice.. your tone, sultry and seductive, rang through his ears. he felt your hips in his hands.. he felt you.
what was wrong with him?
was he falling for you?
he let out a breath, tugging at the ends of his hair as he did all those weeks ago when you'd embarrassed him in the courtyard of the great lodge.
he pictured you.
your smile, your eyes.
his heart rate picked up.
this couldn't be happening.
he thought of you again. your kindness, even towards him, when he'd treated you horribly. he thought of your teasing, your voice whispering in his ears as he sat with you in the mess hall.
there was something wrong with him.
you were a giant.
he clenched his jaw.
a part of him wanted to never see you again.
the other.. the other wanted you all to himself.
he gave in to the latter.
he had feelings for you, as unnatural as they were. you were impressive, brave, strong, intelligent, capable.
as much as he thought he hated it— hated you— for making his chest feel the way it did..
his heart pounded against his ribcage.. and this time, he didn't mind.
tags: @graciegizmo3184 @anzanishira @chocokaylarobin @uncoveredsun @caelestis-lyrae @prio-motu @bluehorizon987 @freyrees @ieatmarbles @rohansregret @konigd1cks0ck @smilesdarling @multifand0m-gal0re @huan-chan @rustypotatospork @onlydeas @luna-charlie @orangeflavouredwitch @hayleethefrog @dott-up @imcomingforyourskin @itsnat-bitch @mimothemoth @elizabeth-hatake @spacexplosion @fandomcatchall @ss-kimo @sinfulmatt @lacm-ac @iinterdimensionals @thatspookyagent @kiss-kae @twiistedspades @closet-creature @shawtylikamelody @judyfromfinance @hobistangerine @aikochan4859 @whywouldiknowstuff
499 notes · View notes
Text
Escaping the Ashes | Modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader
Tumblr media
Request: no - written for @shelbydelrey ‘s Peaky x Lana Festival
Pairing: Modern!Tommy Shelby x reader
Summary: (Y/N) reflects on her time spent in the limelight. Although she left it all behind, she can't say she regrets stepping into it; for it brought her the one thing she loves the most.
Warnings: drinking, brief mention of a car crash
Word Count: 1912
A/N: I think I can safely say that I throughly enjoy writing stories based off of songs I’ve never previously heard. This was a bunch of fun to write — thanks for assigning it to me, Isa! I decided to take the modern AU route for it….I hope you don’t mind. Enjoy! :)
A/N 2: this is based off of the song Wild At Heart by Lana Del Rey…I tried to weave some other elements of the song in. I didn’t use the lyric you chose verbatim because it didn’t fit with the speaking pattern, but I’ve got it in there.
PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!
Comment/Message Me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!
Tumblr media
(Y/N) raised her hand slightly, waving to the bartender to get his attention before she motioned to her empty glass, signaling that she wanted another drink. He nodded before getting right into making a second Jack and Coke for her. It was ready within seconds and she thanked him for it before bringing the glass up to her lips to take a sip.
She heard footsteps coming from behind her as she set the glass back down on the wooden bar top. Those footsteps led right up to the empty stool next to the one she was occupying. She kept her eyes fixed on the television hanging above the bar, sighing as she felt someone sit in the seat next to her.
The bar was nearly empty, which is why she decided to take up a temporary residence there, so the fact that someone would choose the seat right next to her confused, and slightly irked, her. She just wanted to be alone!
The voice that belonged to said person answered all of her questions. "Figured you'd be here." It was her fiancé.
"You finally figured out where I spend my Thursdays now," she responded, not yet looking over at him, even though she could feel that he was looking at her.
He chuckled at her statement, noticing the dry nature of it, and he called over the bartender; ordering some of the top shelf whiskey, before he spoke to her again, "couldn't stand waiting back at home?"
"No," she answered, shaking her head as she fixed her eyes on the glass in front of her, "mind gets the best of me there."
"Sorry work ran late..."
"It always runs late, Tommy," she cut him off, brushing off his apology before he even had the chance to finish it, "I know how it can get sometimes," she finally looked at him as she finished speaking, smiling slightly as she took in his appearance. If he wouldn't have said that he'd put in a full day's work, she wouldn't have thought that he did...how he could look so effortlessly attractive still blew her mind daily.
Tommy grimaced at her statement. Her 'late days' looked different than his, sure, but they were taxing all the same. "Still should have been home earlier for you," he didn't let the thought go.
"Let it go, Tommy," she dismissed him yet again.
"I don't like leaving my fiancée home, alone; to her own devices," he continued anyway.
"You make me sound like I'm crazy," she giggled slightly as she teased him. He was happy to see her smile.
"Aren't you?" he teasingly quipped back, making her fully turn to face him with wide eyes and her mouth gaped.
"Thomas!" she exclaimed in surprise, smacking his thigh as she tried to hold her façade up and keep back the laughter that was threatening to escape. He said nothing in response and just winked at her as she grumbled something along the lines of how if he wasn't so attractive, he'd ‘ve gotten an entire earful just then.
Silence returned as their laughs faded off, and (Y/N) turned her body back so that she was sitting properly on the stool once more. She picked up her drink and took a sip from it before setting it back down and deciding to occupy herself with spinning the glass around.
"How are you handling all of this?" Tommy spoke up after a few moments had passed, finally getting to asking what they'd been dancing around from the second (Y/N) realized he was sitting next to her.
She exhaled a sigh before speaking, "I'm handling it," she shrugged, "I...I'm happy to be away from all of it, you know."
"I wouldn't," he answered honestly, making her remember that there truly wouldn't be a Tommy Shelby if he didn't have his work, "but I'm happy you were able to get away before it got to be too much."
(Y/N) exhaled a sigh and nodded. She again began to wonder if she'd made the right choice. She'd spent her entire life wanting to create and share her music with vast audiences, and now she'd finally gotten the chance, she was backing away. The four years she'd spent in the business were catching up with her. She didn't like the other things that came with fame, and they were getting to be a bit much for her to handle. The part she loved had been essentially placed in the shadows of the camera flashes and the engagements that seemed to book up every hour of her day. It was too much to the point that she backed out of her record deal and moved out of the city, escaping the ashes that were starting to fall around her; before the ashes were all that was left.
"You're thinking again," Tommy cut into her thoughts, knowing that her mind was going a mile a minute by how she was staring absently at her glass.
"I am," she admitted dryly, seeing no need to lie. He could always see right through her anyway. She turned her head slightly, seeing that he was looking at her expectantly. "Was it the right move?" she then asked him the question that had been pestering her mind.
"Do you think that it was?" he flipped it back onto her.
"I'm asking you the question, Tommy!" she groaned, frustration flashing across her features.
"If you feel better now that you're away from it then I'd say 'yeah, it was the right move'," he gave his opinion, shrugging slightly.
"But I took you away from London," (Y/N) pointed out, a slight frown forming on her face. Tommy was a prominent businessman, and London was one of his major home bases.
"I've got a car, love," he brushed her statement off, flashing a grin in her direction. She shook her head slightly upon hearing his response, "I'm still able to do my work just fine from here...you were having a hard time doing anything in London," he pointed out then.
This was true. She really wasn't even able to leave their apartment with the aforementioned paparazzi always wanting to capture every little snippet of her life. The fact that there was an air of mystery around Tommy and his business dealings didn't help either. The 'famous musician dates business bad boy' headline was one the paps were always trying to sell, no matter how corny it sounded.
She couldn't leave Tommy though. No. The two years that she's spent with him have been the best of her life. So these serious talks of stepping out of the limelight began one evening after dinner when the incessant flashes caused her chauffeur to get into a minor car accident. Both (Y/N) and Tommy were fine, but she reached the breaking point. They decided to purchase a home and move out to the outskirts of London, where the paparazzi wouldn't find her. It was the reason why she was able to sit in this bar, alone, whenever she wanted to.
"Being stuck in that city was a lot," (Y/N) spoke on her thoughts after a few moments had passed. Tommy nodded in agreement with her as she took another sip from her glass. A momentary silence then fell around them as she turned to look over at him. He kept his gaze on her as she studied his face before dropping her eyes to her hands, looking at the engagement ring that was sparkling back at her. "You still love me, yeah?" she asked him then, her voice soft as she glanced up at him through her eyelashes.
"Course I do, love," he answered her like it was a no-brainer, his brows furrowed in confusion because he wondered why she would have asked this, "why would you question that?"
"Because I've stepped away from singing," she answered him, her voice still soft.
"You're more than just a pretty face on the stage for me, (Y/N)...way more," he told her, his eyes showing his seriousness. "You've stepped away from that, but you've not changed one bit. You're still...I love you because you're still wild at heart."
(Y/N) bashfully looked down at her lap as she heard what he had to say. She still wasn't used to him saying things like this. To have someone profess their love to her and actually mean it was something that she really wasn't used to; being in the circle she was.
"Have I made (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the woman who has something to say about everything, speechless?" Tommy questioned after a few silent seconds, a grin apparent in his voice.
"Oh shut it, Tommy," she said to him, knocking her knee against his as she looked up at him again. Seeing the smile on his face made hers break out from behind the glare she was trying to hold up.
"It seems as though I have," he stated smugly, making her roll her eyes at him.
She shook her head, looking him over again like she had before. "You know...if I had to do it all over again I would..." she trailed off, her words making Tommy's eyebrows raise in intrigue.
"You would?" he asked, surprised that she would say that, "why's that?"
(Y/N) cracked a smile before she laughed slightly. "Because, in the end it brought me here to you," she admitted, knowing full well how corny she probably sounded. Tommy cracked another grin as he chuckled slightly at her words; not because they were funny, but because they'd struck something inside of him.
He wasn't embarrassed to admit that he stuck around the club one night after she'd finished the set she was performing. Her voice had mesmerized him, and her beauty was something unlike he'd seen in his entire lifetime. She entertained him when she realized that he'd been waiting around for her, and that was when he really fell in love. It was safe to say that he’d never met anyone like her. He made it a point to go to the next few shows so that he'd get another chance to see her afterwards, and he hadn't stopped following her since.
"It's corny, I know," (Y/N) admitted to the cheesiness, "but it's true. I'd do it a thousand times over if it meant I got to meet, and be with, you." She was able to lean in closer to him due to the proximity of their stools, and she waited until her lips were just inches from his to speak again, "I love you, Tommy," she said, feeling the grin as it grew on his lips.
"I love you, (Y/N)," he repeated the sentiment, not allowing her a second to respond before he matched his lips with hers.
Their kiss was kept brief, and (Y/N) giggled as she pulled away, reaching up to wipe the smudge of lipstick from his bottom lip before anyone would notice. Tommy just grinned at her, managing to kiss her knuckles before she brought them away.
No one did notice though, which was another reason why she was grateful that she escaped the life that she was hurling herself into before it got to where she was in too deep. Now she was able to be the person she desired to be. The person that was, definitely, wild at heart.
Tumblr media
Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @raincoffeeandfandoms @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable
MASTERLIST
Listen to the song Wild At Heart by Lana Del Rey:
Here.
244 notes · View notes
fallout4-reacts · 11 months
Note
can you do companions react to a jokingly flirty sole who immediately gets flustered and starts panicking once they flirt back?
This one requires me to think outside the box because not all companions are going to return flirts in reality
But I enjoy the challenge of figuring out how they manage it
I've been searching online for a few concepts because I don't have many pick-up lines. As long as I do silly things, I might as well get it straight
Cait : "Sure, I feel well covered with a fighter as amazing as you to have my back, but sometimes I'd like you to take my forwards."
"I can beat anything you throw at me, but nothing beats like my heart when you're around."
Sole drops down their firearm and sinks their feet into it. Cait can't stop laughing as she helps her friend in getting up. And she has helped them in recovering their guns. And she has helped them in regaining their mental abilities.
"Eh, stop torturing yourself; if you turn a deeper red, you'll be mistaken for a tato. You have to be able to accept victory when you start a fight."
With one last lovely smile, she leaves to allows them to recompose.
Codsworth (not romanced) : Sorry! I can easily fall for the synth detective, but I couldn't fathom falling for Codsworth... Perhaps the round balled body? I get that his voice and manner of speech can be something (it is Stephen Russell, after all), but I can't. And then remark something like, "Yes, but put him in a synth body." Sorry, but it's all too far out of canon because it's been said numerous times that putting a robot's intelligence in a synth is nearly impossible, too much lack. There are fantastic authors who write romanced Codsworth fanfiction; I even stroll through an NFSW, but with a grind and... No way, I'm not going to do it. Anyway, I believe that if Sole tells Codsworth a pick-up line, it will burn his circuit.
Curie : "If kissing spreads germs, why not start an epidemic?"
Curie looks up from her computer to Sole, who is distractedly inspecting the labelled bottles on the clinic shelf.
"I'm afraid I'd rather keep our germs between us. I understand the advantages of an open relationship, but if I could obtain your undivided attention that way, I'd prefer to have it exclusively."
The antibiotic bottle Sole was holding falls to the ground as they tuck their heads into their shoulders, taking on a fascinating crimson tint. Curie is enthralled by what's happening and gets up from her seat to go closer.
"Don't tell me you're embarrassed, Sole. That's adorable. You know I could bite you!"
In a playful gesture, she lifts one hand to her friend's face and gives them a gentle pinch on the cheek.
"These colors look great on you, giving you a healthy hue."
At the height of panic, Sole finds themselves unable to say anything and tries, in vain, to hide their head a little more in their shoulders. Curie rises to her feet and kisses them on the cheek.
"If you're interested, I'd be happy to take a closer look at your germs. But tonight. Right now, I have real sick people I need to take care of."
Her partner seizes the chance to flee the exam room, mumbling a few words on the way out that Curie misunderstands so badly that they stutter, but that essentially like a: "See you later."
Danse : "You're cuter than a puppy, and I want to take you home!"
"Oh! You know that without you, every function will be devoid of love."
To say that Sole did not expect such an answer would be an understatement of the most extreme sort. They appear to be preoccupied by a dust that appears to have sunk into the butt of their weapon as the red grabs their cheeks, forehead, and neck, and Danse is taken aback by their reaction.
"It's strange that as long as you're in a joke line, you can accept your flirtation, but now that I've answered it, you don't seem to know what to do with yourself."
The remark just makes matters worse, and it is at this point when panic grips Danse. He turns almost as crimson as Sole and realizes that his armor will undoubtedly require some attention.
Deacon : "Do you believe in love at first sight or do I pass by you again?"
"Do you really believe I've been looking away from you since the day you left your vault?"
Sole starts strutting and playing with the screwdriver in their hand, their eyes lowering to the ground and never rising again. Deacon smiles as the subtle red grabs their cheeks.
"What is that? Don't say you're surprised. A smooth talker like you never thought they'd can be talk back?"
"It isn't... It's... uh... it's... a... well..."
Deacon laughs and softly strokes Sole's cheek, who continues to blush violently.
"Wow, if you ever get tired of Death Bunnie, I have another Bunnie concept that I think you'll enjoy."
Dogmeat : No. (heard the voice of Valentine saying this No, like a categoric No.)
Elder Maxson : "If my heart were to fly, your soul would be my airport."
"However, I have a real airport; do you want to land?"
To say that Sole was surprised is a minimalism. The report they were holding falls to the ground, and the paper sheets scatter to the four corners of the room, but they do nothing to gather them up. They're frozen in place, crimson like one of those antique flags Maxson saw on one of his trips. He chews his lower lip to keep from laughing. He found out that it was not in Sole's nature to say something so... bold. Is this knight the victim of a pay loss?
"You don't say anything anymore?"
Maxson find that the gorgeous tint that has developed over their cheeks makes them look even more attractive.
"I…"
It's as though they awoke suddenly, realising what they had done. They rush to their knees, gathering up the papers meticulously. Maxson leans over to pick one up and offers it to Sole, his gaze fixed on them. Sole blushes even more and attempts to speak, but all that comes out is a long string of nonsensical stutters.
"If you keep this up, Knight, you won't be leaving my office anytime soon."
This time it was too much for Sole, who has tears in their eyes. Maxson isn't having any fun at the time and moves closer to them, extending out a hand to lift their chin up.
"I would like you to answer this question honestly: do you have feelings for me?"
They broke forth, peering into the Elder's eyes: "Yes!" Then they appear to retract inside a shell that weakens in the face of their superior. A gentle smile spreads across the man's lips.
"Don't be ashamed. Coming out like you just did takes a lot of guts. I know for a fact that my position is intimidating. But I'm pleased that you dared to do it, however awkwardly. Maybe we could talk about it more tonight, in my chambers, over a pleasant drink?"
Sole, for their part, couldn't help but smile, almost relieved. They promptly nodded and rushed to leave the deck.
Hancock : "Every time I see you, I get so tired... Why? Because I can't find my way out when I gaze into your eyes."
"It could be because I don't build walls around my heart to keep it open for you, sis/bro."
Fortunately, Sole is securely seated at the bottom of Hancock's couch, otherwise the mayor of Goodneighbor is certain that they would have slipped through the cracks in the floor the way he decomposes. He can't stop laughing.
"Too much Jet combined with too much whisky can make things say, huh?"
Sole nods rapidly, lips pinched, and cheeks on fire. The ghoul finds the appearance strongly attractive, so he rises from his own couch and comes to sit next his partner.
"But tell me, was there any truth in all of this?"
Sole nods their head in agreement again, and then they quickly drop her in shame.
"Eh, a ghoul might be flattered to have caught the interest of someone like you. There is no shame here. It's all been shared!"
He holds his friend's hands in his own and encourages them to look him in the eyes.
"I will gladly guide you in finding your way if that path leads you to my side."
Sole finally appears to recompose, and a smile cracks their lips.
Gage : "You have repainted my life in colors I had never seen before!"
"Stop using drugs, and you'll realise I love you even more than before."
Sole comes to a halt in the middle of the track, panicked, then fiddles with the button of their pip-boy as if they didn't hear anything. But Porter is no fool; he knows exactly what his boss heard. The scarlet that has gripped their cheeks is, in any case, a screaming witness. He approaches them by smiling like a predator.
"So you're feeling funny this morning?"
"I can't deny that your presence in my life has made it more vibrant."
"Quit choice of words. Am I now a part of your life?"
"Well, you...are my lieutenant, and... hm... we get along pretty well..."
Nose glued to the screen, Sole still won't look up. In fact, they appear to sink their heads deeper into their shoulders, acting as if the information in front of them is too vital to ignore, but Porter believes they don't read anything at all and simply try to escape his stare. He softly grabs their chin in his palms and lifts their face to meet his.
"Is there anything else you'd like to tell me, boss?"
The raider never expected to feel so irreverent, a voice within him yells out that he has broken the rules, and he could blush and stutter about it. But it is stronger than him: Sole's embarrassment triggers his most primal impulses.
MacCready : "If I followed you home, would you keep me?"
"It's going to be a wild ride, but I'll be glad to have you along. We can even ride in a different drive."
MacCready winks at Sole, but for the first time, the latter appears embarrassed. All of this is amusing: the crimson covers their entire face, they try to stutter something, and in front of their failure, they droop their heads in shame, finding the button on their sleeve more interesting than the desert around them. MacCready's heart is filled with adoration. He comes to a halt and returns to his partner.
"What exactly are these manners? Hello, I'm Mac! Not the republic's president."
It doesn't appear to bring any comfort to the other, who still refuses to look him in the eyes.
"Were you kidding or were you serious? Because I’m not kidding at all. Not on that. I've stopped telling myself stories since then, you know. But I didn't dare to say too much since I know you're in mourning, and here I am, still in mourning for Lucy, but here. If you believe we could, you know, see if we can work together to move on."
Sole raises their eyes to meet his, trying to hide their shame at being caught at their game.
"I'd like to."
"That's all there is to it! Even more adorable. How can a man resist to such a face?"
He smiles sweetly and bends slightly, but he doesn't come all the way, leaving Sole with the option of digging deeper or retracting. Sole grows closer him by closing their eyes after what appears to be an excessive amount of heartbeat. The kiss is almost chaste, but Mac finds it even more delicious. He can't wait to get this journey over with.
Nick Valentine : "Do you consist of beryllium, gold, and titanium? You must be because you are BeAuTi-ful."
Nick is in fits of laughter. He'd never heard this one before, which isn't saying much. He knew Sole had a nerd side, but it's beyond imagination at this point. However, it is also quite touching. He smiles as he moves his chair towards his partner.
"The gold is you, because you are so precious to me."
Sole abruptly returns to their office without saying anything. Nick notices from behind that their ears have turned red, which amuses him even more. He stands up and turns his companion's chair towards him, noticing that their entire face has turned a crimson color.
"Flirty, but that's all there is to it?"
Sole raises an uneasy gaze at their companion, attempting to stutter an explanation, but the words remain lodged in their throat, turning them redder. Nick's lips grin slightly, and he kneels in front of the other to look them in the eyes.
"I feel flattered that this old cane can inspire such a statement, but now I understand that it was just a joke, isn't it?" he asks gently and reassuringly. To his amazement, Sole closes their eyes and shakes their head vigorously, appearing to have reached a new degree of crimson.
"You're not going to tell me you have strong feelings for me, are you?"
This time, Sole appears absolutely desperate, but after a good inspiration, they decide to declare: "I love you."
"Oh."
In his chest, the detective feels his metal core melt. He doesn't want to prolong the agony any longer, so he gently takes Sole's chin in his good hand.
"So do I."
Piper : "I'm no photographer, but I think I can picture us together." Sole says in a lighthearted tone, picking up an old camera off the Boston Buggle's floor.
"I can see us together so much that it's a vivid picture in my head at night when I fall asleep," the reporter replied.
Sole comes to a complete stop, unwilling to look Piper in the eyes. They become a bright red and even miss escaping the device, which bounces once or twice out of their hands before they can tighten their grip.
"Eh uh, ah... uh... you... you've seen? It's in pretty fantastic condition."
"Come on, Blue, don't tell me you didn't think I'd be interested after all this teasing and remarks?"
"A-a-are you interested? Will you b-b-by me?"
Piper approaches Sole, who steps back almost instinctively until they feel the room's wall in their back.
"No, by the reporter sitting there," Piper quips as she points to a skeleton. "Of course, you. Who wouldn't be drawn to you?"
"M-m-maybe it'd be better... it'd be better just..."
As Piper approaches Sole, she notices how panic grips them. It's almost amusing how they gaze around wildly, as if seeking for a loophole.
"You're not interested in me?" Piper mocks them with a pitiful false pout.
It's her partner's death. They appear to be in extreme agony this time, ultimately looking up at her and appearing to want to die.
"Of course, I'm drawn by you! I simply did not think... I couldn't think of a woman like you..."
"Then you should stop thinking."
Piper presses her palms against the wall on either side of Sole's head, getting even closer, up to a few centimeters from their lips. She would never kiss them without their consent, but Sole understands her intentions now, and the ball is in their court.
Preston : "Your name must be Nuka-Cola, because you're so-da-licious."
"My name is Preston; you know it, but you might not know that I can lose it when I see you."
Preston was having a great time until he realised how uncomfortable Sole is now. They're as red as a tato, attempting to stammer something but failing, and they don't seem to know where to go.
"Hey, easy! No man died. That was sweet of you, but if you think we're going too far, please accept my apologies."
Sole shakes their head and closes their eyes.
"No! I love you!"
The Minuteman shakes his head, noticing that his General is more uneasy than ever. There was no doubt that if anything might disrupt the scene, Sole would leap to his feet. Instead, they appear to be at the pinnacle of torment, wondering how they dared to speak.
"It's not a part of you that you've conditioned me to see, be embarrassed. I… but I’m flattered. As much as I've been slightly unhelpful, I have deep feelings for you, General, and if that's what you're feeling, I'd be the happiest man on earth to be able to move forward with this."
Sole bow their heads once more, still afraid to look the Minutemen in the eyes, but Preston does not want to stop there; now that the area has been taken, he intends to plant his flag over. As a result, he approaches cautiously, trying not to intrude on Sole's space while making his intentions plain. When Sole finally glances up at their Colonel, all they see is a man who is as head over heels in love as they are. Then they go closer, and they exchange a lovely kiss that could go down in history as one of the most beautiful of their century.
Strong (not romanced) : Did he basically have the ability to reply? I picture something along the lines of: "Puny human too drunk. Shame. Puny human must sleep, then seek milk of human kindness with Strong." Sorry, but it's out of reach for my limited imagination.
X6-88 : "We must be subatomic particles because I feel a strong force between us."
"The truth is, and I'm delighted with your statement. I find you appealing as well."
Sole's eyes widened to the point where X6 couldn't deny it was... amusing. He has travelled with Sole since a long time, and it's been months since the Institute was defeated, and he's learnt a whole new way to live, even if he stays X6 somehow. But if he has gained any assurance, it is that he has the right to live and live entirely, and he will not pass up an opportunity to continue forward with the person he admires the most in the world if they open a door. Is that, however, what Sole meant? As the thinking proceeds and he notices that Sole is turning red and uncomfortable, he begins to doubt himself.
"Have I gone too far in our relationship with this statement? I thought you were making advances, but I could have misconstrued your intentions."
"It's not... it's... I... you know hm..."
"No, I don’t know. Maybe I should go see Nick for a second view, because you don't appear to be any more certain than I am about what just happened."
"No!" Sole is well aware that when they are unable to provide sufficient information to X6, the Courser has developed the habit of consulting Nick. The last thing they needs is a snarky detective interfering. For months, they would be teased.
"No. The reality is, I must accept that... well, you are..."
Again, Sole appears to be at a loss for what to say or do with their ten fingers, which no longer amuses X6. He's looking for answers, and he wants them now. What has Deacon already stated about a case like this? When in doubt, proceed?
"Ma'am/Sir, may I?"
The Courser delicately strokes his boss's jaw lines with his palms, so lightly that it's difficult to tell if Sole feels it, but they do. They feel their heartbeat faster than ever in their chest, and they feel a surge of desire in them. They slowly close their eyes as they enjoy X6's kiss.
134 notes · View notes
ping-ping-ying · 1 year
Text
Rainy Day With Alhaitham
Note: Adventurer gn reader! Established relationship, just some pure fluff because it's been raining for two days straight here💓
Tumblr media
Alhaitham:
Has a love hate relationship with rainy days
It's so inconvenient at times
Especially when he needs to go out and do some research
But on the other hand if he's not busy and has free time, he uses it as an excuse to do nothing all day but relax
So it has it's pro's and cons
Meanwhile you were on the verge of having a mental breakdown because you wouldn't be able start your journey back to the desert to help out an old friend
It was important, so you tried to get your things ready until a voice from the living room started you out of your thoughts
"What are you doing?"
"I'm uh- packing my bag?"
"Don't tell me you plan on traveling in this weather? You know better than to do that. The forest can be very dangerous during this kind of weather."
Alhaitham was in the doorway of your bedroom, crossing his arms while wearing his usual blank expression on his face
“It doesn’t matter, I’ve traveled in more dangerous weather before. This is important and you know it takes a while to travel to the desert on foot-”
He stood behind you and grabbed both your arms, holding them in place
“I’m pretty sure this can wait until the weather clears up.”
“Alhaitham-”
Within seconds he spun you around and placed both of his hands on your shoulders
“Spend this rainy day with me before you leave.”
Letting out a huge sigh, you nodded your head and placed your bag on the floor next to the bed
“Fine, but I am leaving at dawn.”
“Understandable.”
Alhaitham wandered back into the living room while you decided to change back into some loungewear
After changing, you went to the living room and sat on the couch
Meanwhile, Alhaitham was in the kitchen making something
His book was placed next to you, and curiosity plagued your mind, so you grabbed the book and flipped through a couple of pages
You understood next to nothing besides some sentences and flung the book back down
“Did my book pique your interest?”
The man came back with two mugs in his hand and handed you one before sitting down next to you on the couch
“For a second, but then I tried to read some of the words and gave up.”
“Hmm, figures as much.”
“Hey!”
You playfully shoved his shoulder, causing a chuckle to escape his lips
As the rain continues to pour down, you and Alhaitham sit on the couch while he reads his book and you reading your travel journal
Even though you have no idea what the book is about you would ask him questions anyway
He tells you bits and pieces in a way you can understand but some of it still flies over your head
After a while of him reading books and you took the initiative to steal his book from him, mark his page, and put it to the side
“(Y/N)? What are you-”
“Shhh.”
You gently push him back on the couch, to where he is now laying down and you lay on top of him getting cozy
“If you wanted some affection, you could've just said so.”
His face has the god-awful annoying smirk he usually always wears proudly
“No.”
Alhaitham wraps his arms around you and rubs your back soothingly
You lift your head up a bit to stare at him, bringing one of your hands up to his face to caress his cheek softly
His eyes immediately open and stares into yours, a small smile appearing on his face
“I’m going to miss you.”
“Don’t think about tomorrow, let’s enjoy the moment.”
“Okay, rainy days with you are honestly one of the best things I could ever ask for in life.”
“Likewise.”
So in conclusion, a rainy day with Alhaitahm would be so wholesome. Mainly with him reading his books, but if you’re there, he wouldn’t mind if you forced him to put down the books and just cuddle for a while. Apologies if this isn’t the best, this was literally just spur-of-the-moment writing lol.
250 notes · View notes
snowb3rryy · 4 months
Note
Can you please write a fic where Simeon is MC'S guardian angel? like he was assigned to them since their birth or something and they found out who he was sometime during the exchange program? I'm sorry if the idea is cringe but I thought it's cool and it could fit with his character :/
Sure! Thanks for the submission♡
I'll try my best🫣
Send me an Angel
Simeon x GN!MC
Life will no longer be as I once knew. All those mythical creatures my mother used to read stories about to me when I was younger, appear to be true.
They stand in front of me, demons, fallen angels, immortal humans... I still feel like I'm in a dream.
I don't remember a lot of things of my childhood. However, I vividly recall my mothers obsession with the supernatural. She firmly believed they existed, so much that she swore she had a guardian angel. Not only that he existed, but that she also met him and spoke to him. I used to think she was making a big deal out of nothing, but maybe not anymore. Maybe everything she said is true.
I collect my thoughts as the alarm on my newly acquired D.D.D. rings. It's time to attend RAD. Lucifer said it's important to not be late since it will be my first day, officially as a student.
I put on my uniform. I'm so glad they let me make a few changes to it.
I walk downstairs and find Mammon. He complains a bit about having to babysit me but soon the others join us so I got lucky. I am very anxious about my first day and I don't have time for that.
Soon, we arrive at RAD. This time, I can take a good look at it. It's really magnificent.
In the entrance, a demon informs us that Lucifer is waiting for us to the classroom doen the hall.
As we walk there, Beelzebub opens the door and I see Lucifer talking to two figures. It seems like a man and... a child?
Lucifer: You're all late. *scoffs* Anyways, MC, this is Luke and Simeon. They are exchange students like you.
Luke: We also happen to be angels Lucifer
Lucifer: Did someone bark?
As he jokes, he walks out of the classroom.
So I finally also met angels, too? Well, technically, I have already met the brothers who used to be angels, but I guess it doesn't count.
I introduce myself properly to them. I first shake hands with Luke. He seems to be a bit scared to be here in the Devildom.
I turn my attention to Simenon, I notice that the way he looks at me is funny. It's like when you see someone dear to you after long time.
- Nice to meet you, Simeon
I extend my hand, yet he's still frozen. He clears his throat and shakes my hand.
Simeon: It's nice to meet you too, MC
Simeon has a soft voice, he seems kind and well mannered. If only he didn't have that weird look on his face.
The first weeks pass and things are surprisingly better than I imagined. I get along with most of them, I think. I choose to spend a lot of time at the House of Lamentation, but whenever I can, I go and visit Simeon. I enjoy my time with him most, but I also have a goal. He still looks at me like... like he wants to tell me something, like he knows something I don't. Maybe it's time to confront him about it.
I wear some comfortable clothes and appropriate for the weather and I send a text to Simeon. I make my way to him after confirming he's free.
When I arrive, I wave at Luke and Solomon. They call me in to sit with them, but I ask to meet Simeon alone. They inform me he's in the kitchen so I make my way there.
I get welcomed by him, and we chat about our day, I realise there is no right way or time to say it so I just let it out.
- Simeon, since we met, I... I noticed that you keep looking at me a certain way. Like, like you know me, like you want to share something with me
Simeon: So, it was that noticable?
- Ha! So I wasn't imaging it?
He laughs and he take a deep breath.
Simeon: No you weren't. I was hoping to not have to deal with this yet but, you need answers that I have and I shouldn't keep you in the dark any longer. I believe, everything you've seen these few weeks you're here are too much to take.
- Well, yes. But I think I'm doing better than the first day I came here.
Simeon: Indeed you have. MC, you see... I'm an angel and, sometimes at least once all of us will become attached to a human. You have heard about guardian angels right?
- Uhm, yes. My mom was convinced she had one.
Simeon: Well, your mom is right. All humans have a guardian angel at some point in their life.
- What do you mean?
Simeon: It differs. Some humans are assigned guardian angels from birth, but most are assigned when they're in a difficult place in time. For you, the angel assigned as your guardian is me, and I was given this duty at your hardest time a year ago, when you lost your parents.
- What? You... you are.. No...
Then it hits me. Something I thought was a dream, but it seems it was real.
- The night of their funeral. I fell asleep after crying for hours in my grandparents' house... I was a dream, or maybe a vision? It was you wasn't it? The one who said that my parents are safe and I shouldn't cry anymore? After that I... I felt safe and relaxed and... it didn't hurt as much.
Simeon: Yes. I gave you my word, and also my blessing to keep you safe.
- Why? You said that everyone has a guardian angel! Where was theirs?
Simeon: We can't have such power when the fate of a human is sealed. Don't worry, your parents are in a better place.
- Everyone keeps saying that! Why couldn't that better place be with me by their side?
Simeon: MC, humans have the saying of "Everything happens for a reason" but that's not true. Your parents died served no greater meaning, it was just a fatal accident. But believe me when I say that, they're safe. I myself checked them since they're the parents of the person I protect. Both look after you, and they don't want you to be sad anymore.
I can't help it anymore and break down. I feel Simeon's arms wrap around me and a feeljng of peace calms my desperation. I realise that time can't reverse and that since he is real, Heaven must be too. And I have no reason to not believe him.
A few hours of consulting pass after I finally relax completely.
- So, Simeon, up to the day of my parents death, you didn't know me? Like didn't God or whatever let you know that "hey that baby that's born now will be under your wing when the time comes"?
Simeon: No, I had no idea of your existence until that day. If I did, I'd be your guardian angel from your birth.
- And, are there any rules or anything?
Simeon: Well, I can make myself known to you as you can tell but, the most crucial rules are two. Not to prevent your death and not to initiate in any kind of relationship with you over than acquaintances.
- And what happens if you do any of these?
Simeon: I can't be sure. I will be under Father's judge but the price will be from losing my powers to my erasure.
- Huh?!
30 notes · View notes
slayfics · 1 year
Text
Behind the Mask
Inosuke x Reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
After meeting the injured demon slayer you struggle to help him recover and learn more about his past.
Tumblr media
Chapter 2
The next few days were a struggle. Inosuke didn't like being told what to do, and the other helpers wanted nothing to do with his temper and boastfulness. It took all your cunningness to figure out ways to get him to take his medicine and rest. He was so eager to show off his strength to the other demon slayers that he couldn't even see the repercussion of his actions. If he kept reinjuring himself, he would never be back out in the field doing missions. One day you got caught up in helping some other injured demon slayers, so it took you longer than usual to check in and make sure Inosuke had taken his medicine and wasn't out and about refusing to rest. You found him sitting outside watching some other demon slayers train.
"Good afternoon, Inosuke. Did you remember to take your medicine today?"
"Of course, I did!" He responded.
You were taken aback, every other day it was a battle to get him to follow orders. 
"You said yesterday that if I want to be the best demon slayer I have to, right? I had to know when to rest in order to fight again. Well I did, and I'm sitting here doing nothing just like you told me. How long is this going to take anyway?" He continued annoyed.  
You were shocked that somehow the messages you've repeated over and over again finally sunk into that boar head.
"If you rest as ordered I would say a few more weeks."
"A FEW MORE WEEKS?? UGHH"
"I can check on your injuries today if you'd like maybe they are better since you've been resting."
"Sure."
"Oh, and here is what headquarters has on the menu toady for food." You handed him a menu with a few options for dinner.”
"Uh.. I can’t read or write can you just tell me."
"Oh.. yeah of course."
You started to feel some sympathy for him, and a little curious about his up brining. After going over the food options with him he proclaimed,  
"ONE OF EVERYTHING!"
You smiled at his enthusiasm. He does like to eat you thought. At least that will help him heal too.
'I didn't realize you couldn't write. If you need help writing letters to anyone, feel free to ask."
"HU? What's that?" He asked.
“Letters?”  
“Yeah, what are those?”
His question made you even more curious about his background. Where had this boy grown up if he’d never heard of letters before?
“Letters are papers with handwriting on them. Some demon slayers use them to send messages to loved ones or friends during missions to ensure them they are ok.” You explained.
“Oh. No thanks I don’t have any of those.”  
You weren’t sure how to respond to that. Did this demon slayer not have a family?  
"Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, defensive.  
“My apologized Inosuke I'm not sure how to respond. You don’t have any family or friends you’d want to send a message to?” You asked again hoping for more clarification.  
"I grew up in the mountains all by myself. I don’t have a family, brothers, sisters, any of that.” He said without any hints of emotion and turned back to watch the other demon slayers training in the quart yard.  
"Pardon me, but may I ask you something?"
"Sure! I don't blame you for wanting to know more about Lord Inosuke.”
“What do you mean by grew up in the mountains, how did you get there?” You asked. The demon slayer looked down and appeared to be lost in thought for a few moments before answering.  
“I don't really remember it's just all I've known. I lived and grew up there testing my strength."
Your heart started to break for the demon slayer. What kind of childhood could that have been? Growing up in the mountains all alone. That must have meant his parents abandoned him... you wondered if Inosuke knew this. It must have been terribly lonely. This also explained his dreadful manners and lack of education. You gathered your thoughts and thought of a response that wouldn’t give away your true feelings. Inosuke didn’t seem like the type of person that would take well to sympathy, but you knew he loved praise and feeling tough.  
"Well, that is very impressive indeed Inosuke. I can see growing up there has made you very strong. I hope headquarters can be just as accommodating to you as your home in the mountains.” You smiled at him.
Tumblr media
He didn’t respond but appeared to be content with your response. It was hard to tell with that mask always on.
“Would you like me to wash your mask and clothes for you?" You asked, hoping to see what the demon slayer’s reactions were.
"Uh sure." He said and took off his mask to hand to you.
"Oh!” You exclaimed without being able to keep a straight face. That was not what you expected him to look like at all under that mask.
"WHAT!" His face turned from soft to angry in an instant.  
"My apologies it's just that.. you are very attractive." You blushed and walked off too afraid to look up and see his reactions now.
149 notes · View notes
misshoneyimhome · 4 months
Note
Hey! So I'm back with another Fifi (Kevin Fiala) request, I saw this prompt in a list around and I thought that it would be amazing if you could write him: "They had very different approaches to problem solving and it took some time to figure out how to accept that without getting into fights every time they disagreed on something.
Like they fight over a situation got mad at each other, maybe spend a few days like that, but when they start missing the other its time to make up, and the reconciliation it's just filled with love, passion and desire.
Thank you ! 😘❤️
- 🇧🇷
Alrighty love, my apologies for the delay! Christmas kept me quite occupied; Anyway, I hope you like this Fifi story 🤍 I aimed for a gentle and warm vibe, hoping it didn't contain too much angst or sadness 😅😉 as always, feel free to let me know what you think 🥰
Kevin Fiala x reader
Word count: 2.9K
・✶ 。゚
We spent the late nights making things right between us I Kevin Fiala 🖋️
Tumblr media
"Hey, schätzi, I'm back home..." Kevin Fiala announced wearily as he trudged through the front door, holding a gym bag in one hand and a bag of take-out in the other.
"Perfect timing," you said with a smile, meeting him in the hallway while adjusting your earring. "Do you need about 5 minutes to freshen up before we go out? Put on a new shirt perhaps?"
Kevin looked at you, slightly confused.
"Go out? Where to?" he asked. "I've just returned home..."
"Yeah, well, we're meeting Linsey and John before the gallery event... Remember I mentioned it this morning before you went for training?" you tried to explain without sounding like you were nagging, as you had already informed your boyfriend about the plans, which he appeared to have forgotten.
"I'm not going anywhere tonight," the man in front of you sighed deeply, dropping his bag on the floor, kicking off his shoes, and heading to the dining room.
"What do you mean you're not going anywhere?" you questioned, with a slightly firmer tone.
"Babe, I've had a 12-hour day, with practice, meetings, and workouts... I'm not up for navigating a crowd at a gallery..."
You struggled to contain yourself as his words sank in, disappointment filling your body and mind.
"Kev, we've planned this for months... we can't just bail now."
"Just go without me?" he said casually, unpacking his dinner.
"But I don't want to go without you..." you tried to explain, your voice rising slightly as his overly casual attitude started to irritate you, as if he didn't care about your evening plans at all.
"Come on, what's the problem?" Kevin chuckled lightly, grabbing a plate as he prepared to enjoy his meal, not even considering your dinner plans. "This is clearly something you want to do, and I'm just too tired... so, just go..."
But you found nothing amusing about it.
You'd marked this event months ago on the calendar. You'd reminded him multiple times, before and after the road trip. Sure, today had been a long day for him with hockey, but that was his job, and you couldn't understand why he couldn't make this one effort for you.
"What's the problem?" you asked rhetorically, echoing his question. "My problem is that we had plans for tonight, together, and now you suddenly don't want to go because you're 'too tired'... you were aware of tonight, and all I'm asking is for you to put on a clean shirt and join me for a couple of hours for something I'd like to do. Can't you do that for me? Not just this once..."
Your tone had raised a little more as you felt stunned by his response to the situation. He was behaving so carelessly, and you simply couldn't handle it.
"It's just an event at the gallery..."
"Just an... yes, precisely, Kev! It's ONE event... ONE evening I'm asking you to do this for me... EVERY DAY is about YOU and hockey... And I always support you through it – I'm at games until late at night despite having to work the following day, or I always have a meal ready for when you get home!"
"I'm not asking you to do all that for me..."
Anger surged through your body as you explained your disappointment, feeling completely content in confronting him. But the audacity he had to question your loyalty and his justify his unwillingness to do something for you in return.
"Alright then... then maybe I will go without you," you huffed, slowly realising that he wasn't going to change his mind. "You enjoy your takeout... and by the way, no, I wasn't hungry. I already ate the dinner I made for us – leftovers are in the fridge, but thank you for asking," you spoke sharply, before heading back to the hallway. There, you finished getting dressed, put on your heels and coat, slammed the door firmly enough for Kevin to notice, and made your way to your car.
**
This wasn't the first time such a situation had happened. Since moving in with Kevin a little under a year ago, it had happened a couple of times before. He'd return home late, or later than expected, forgetting plans you had, leading to an argument.
The first time, he had relented and joined you for the evening you'd planned. 
The second time, you had to cancel on your girlfriends last minute. It was just before a road trip, and Kevin had expected you to stick around since he wanted to spend time with you.
And in both cases, the tension had eventually dissipated as you relaxed in each other's company, knowing your love for each other surpassed everything.
But this time, it felt different.
You had been eagerly looking forward to this event, and so had Linsey and John, two of your closest friends, and you were all set to meet up and attend tonight's gallery event. Naturally, you had expected your boyfriend to join since it meant a lot to you. Yet, as had happened multiple times before, he was simply tired after a long day at the rink. Seemingly, he was too exhausted to spend even a few hours with you.
Disappointment surged through you as you navigated the streets towards your destination, struggling to hold back the tears slowly welling up.
However, you refused to let it ruin your night. Despite understanding how important Kevin's career was to him (and to an extent, to you), you couldn't grasp why he wouldn't make an exception this time. But dressed in your best dark green pantsuit, a piece you bought specifically for the occasion, empowering you to feel like a true boss lady ready to conquer the world, you confidently stepped out of the vehicle, flaunting your new heels, and greeted your friends.
And although the evening unfolded magnificently, there lingered a thought about your man back at home. And you couldn’t help but wonder if he, too, was thinking of you. Yet, quickly brushing off these thoughts, and you refocused on the engaging conversations with your friends.
But amidst the laughter and enjoyable chats, your occasional moments of distraction didn't escape the notice of your best friend. And eventually, you caved in and confided in her about the fight with Kevin.
"He's probably just stressed about the season..." John offered reassurance with a warm, friendly smile.
"Yeah, like last week's 3-2 loss in overtime... that's a tough one to swallow," Linsey added sweetly. You knew both your friends were just trying their best to uplift your spirits, even if they couldn't entirely grasp the challenges of being an NHL girlfriend.
"Thanks, guys, but I'm afraid it's more than just that," you sighed deeply, feeling slightly overwhelmed by different emotions. "I feel like I support him through everything... but he NEVER even tries to find the time and energy to do something for me..."
And as if the gates were sudden completely open, you continued expressing the difficulties of dating a professional hockey player, trying to align your social life with his career. As you heard your own words echoing, eventually running out of breath, you stopped talking, releasing a deep exhale.
"Perhaps, babe," Linsey's gentle voice interjected again, "it sounds like you could really use a break... not just when he's away on a road trip, but in your own space, where you can gather your thoughts."
Her words resonated, 'your own space,' a place free from thoughts of Kevin or hockey, where you could truly unwind and relax, away from your shared house.
It didn't actually sound like a bad idea.
And you knew just where to go.
Then offering a nod in agreement and a soft smile, you decided to continue with the night's event and not dwell on thoughts of your boyfriend and his career.
Meanwhile, back at home, Kevin was feeling awful. Well, not entirely awful, as he was genuinely just tired and happy that he’d chosen to have stayed in the comfort of his sofa and home.
But the intensity of your fight still lingered in his mind though. Your expressions of disappointment and anger weighed heavily on him, and he felt terrible about how things were left between you.
Despite the fact, that it was a familiar pattern in your fights.
You would get visibly agitated and annoyed, while he would adopt a low-key, casual, occasionally passive-aggressive stance. It seemed as if all his anger and energy were expended on the ice, leaving him with nothing to give during disagreements with you. He simply often ended up wanting to let things go, which would sometimes infuriate you even further.
At times, you wished he would just match your level of frustration, show his true emotions, and argue back. But instead, he would often brush it off and act nonchalant, which didn't resolve any issues but simply swept them under the rug.
And as the evening wore on, Kevin's feelings of sadness gradually dissipated, and exhaustion took over, causing him to doze off while watching reruns on the television.
**
Morning arrived, and Kevin slowly woke up still on the sofa.
The TV had been turned off, probably by you as you’d come home, but his initial thought wasn't about that. He wondered why you hadn't woken him up to say goodnight.
And even worse still, when he then glanced at the coffee table, where he saw a small post-it note signed by you.
"Morning love, hope you slept alright ❤️ I've gone over to my old apartment, just to have some time to myself and finish up some work - didn't want to wake you as I know you need the rest. Love you, y/n/n"
Reading your note, Kevin felt a pang of disappointment and sadness. However, it was sweet, and you had used your nickname, which indicated that perhaps you weren't entirely mad. But he couldn't understand why you’d suddenly left without waking him, nor saying anything in person. You had just returned home, slept, left a note, and departed from your shared house.
And he knew you well enough that when you needed space, it was better to respect that.
So, he merely let out a deep sigh, got up, and prepared for the day, filled with training, media coverage, and another round of workouts in the evening.
But, to his surprise, you didn't text him all day, which, even after a fight, was highly unusual. And by his second workout, Kevin grew concerned and felt the urge to call you.
"Hey, you," you greeted him over the phone. Your voice lacked excitement, yet he didn't sense traces of annoyance either.
"Hey, schätzi, I just wanted to check in with you," he spoke with genuine curiosity and concern.
"Kev, I'm all good, I just need some time for myself... just for a day or two," you softly explained, still feeling the sting from your recent argument.
"Oh okay... but we're okay, right?"
"Yes, babe, we're just fine."
At first, he didn’t entirely believe you, but decided to let the matter go, and ending the call after exchanging 'love you's.
And as the day progressed, Kevin did his best to trust your need for space. However, he could also feel himself gradually feel a growing need to see you again, particularly on the following day, when you planned to spend more time alone working on your project and didn't attend the home game where the Kings faced off against the Islanders.
Feeling a sting of heartache, Kevin began to fear that your relationship might be closer to its breaking point due to your recent fight. Your valid point about him not investing the same level of time and energy into things that mattered to you, despite your unwavering support for him, weighed heavily on his mind. Yet, he tried to maintain composure, convincing himself that all you needed was a bit of time.
Meanwhile, as you watched the game from your old sofa across town, feelings of longing filled your body and mind each time Kevin's name was mentioned and number 22 flashed on the screen. Despite relishing the wonderful solitude you'd found, being able to wholly concentrate on your work and personal needs in your sublet place that sat empty at the time, you began to miss your boyfriend more than anything.
And as you reflected on the intensity of your recent argument, you acknowledged your justified frustration but also had to admit it might had been somewhat exaggerated.
You loved Kevin deeply, and that had been evident since the day he had so boldly asked you out on a date without much knowledge about you. His humble confidence had intrigued you, and soon, you found yourself immersed in the world of hockey players and their significant others almost every night.
So, as the match concluded with a satisfying 2-1 win for the Kings, you decided it was time to head home and await your boyfriend's return.
And spotting your car in the driveway as Kevin pulled up filled him with a sense of happiness. However, upon closing the front door behind him and entering the hallway, he was met with an eerie silence and darkness.
Had you come back home and left again? he wondered.
Perhaps you’d changed your mind and went to a friend's place instead?
Once again, the fear of the potential breaking point of your relationship crept into his mind.
But then suddenly, he heard noises coming from upstairs, seemingly from your bedroom. And carefully placing his bag by the door, Kevin removed his coat and shoes before walking slowly up the staircase.
A faint glimmer of light caught his attention, emanating from your bedroom. And feeling a surge of relief, he knew it had to be you, so he proceeded down the hallway with cautious steps and entered, noticing the light filtering from the en suite bathroom.
Approaching the doorway, Kevin stood still, observing you standing over the sink, your head slightly bowed, dressed in a satin robe. He then caught a faint sniffle before your eyes met in the mirror, revealing a trace of redness, indicating that you had shed some tears earlier. 
And as you both paused, locking eyes, a surge of warmth and relief enveloped you. Seeing Kevin again definitely had you now more convinced than ever that you had missed him deeply and never wanted to be apart from him, if it wasn’t necessary.
So, releasing another deep breath, you turned around and slowly walked towards the Swiss player, who instinctively enveloped you in his large frame, wrapping his arms around you, and drew you close.
In that embrace, all the tension suddenly seemed to dissolve, leaving only unspoken love between you, as words felt unnecessary.
Then, as you gazed up at him, you delicately lifted your hands to encircle his neck, gently pulling him down for a soft kiss. Kevin quickly reciprocated, as he was also yearning for your touch more than anything.
The days without you, despite being in the same city, had been agonising for him, as he had feared that it might had been the end of your relationship. However, as you both stood in the bathroom doorway, sharing a heartfelt kiss, those fears vanished entirely.
As the kiss deepened, Kevin's hands gently cradled the back of your head, his fingers entwined in your hair, while his tongue delicately explored past your lips, engaging in a tender exchange with yours. You couldn’t help but lean into it as well, surrendering to the lustfulness of the kiss you had initiated.
Then as you gradually pulled back, both of you needed a moment to catch your breath. And while locking eyes once more, Kevin whispered softly, "Please don't leave me," his face and body exuding humble gratitude, almost welling up with emotion.
"Never, Schätzi," you reassured him, gently shaking your head. "Kev, I know sometimes I say things that might sound like I don't want this life with you, but I do, I really do."
A tear trickled down your cheek, mirroring the sadness in Kevin's eyes.
"I understand. I'm just... I'm constantly afraid," he confessed, the vulnerability evident in his voice. "I know I need to pay more attention to what you like and make time for that too..."
"Hey, I think we both need to work on it, babe," you added, attempting a timid smile. "I need to stop overreacting, and we should try and communicate better. I knew what I signed up for when we started dating, but it means we need to be better at discussing things and planning together."
"Yeah, you're probably right," Kevin sighed deeply.
You knew you had your differences in approaching situations, but you also knew that you were in a good relationship, which also meant that meeting each other halfway was key.
"Join me in a bath, baby," you then softly suggested, and Kevin couldn’t help but softly smile and nodded as he gently removed the robe from your slender frame.
And as you then both settled in the warm water, with you leaning against his broad chest, gently caressing each other's hands, you discussed the little improvements and changes you could think of you both could make. You respected each other's boundaries but also recognised the need to occasionally push those lines just a little.
It was a good conversation that lifted a weight from both your hearts. And then snuggled into bed, smiles adorned your faces as you drifted off into a much-needed deep sleep, feeling lighter and more at peace.
27 notes · View notes
hyunsuks-beanie · 2 years
Text
Reward
Tumblr media
Pairing: Perv! Coach! Hyunjin x afab! Tennis player! Reader
Genre: Smut
Content Warnings: Tennis player au; perv patters; dirty thoughts; mentions of groping; fellatio; fingering; cunnilingus; unprotected sex; creampie
Word Count: 1.2k words 
Mellow speaks: Been sitting in my inbox for a while and I'm finally posting it!! Perv fics are really enjoyable to write lmao so i hope you guys like this!
Tagging: @sweethyuka @yedamology @enhacolor @axartia @hyunsuksmygod  @duolingofanaccount @zurimochi
There you go again, bouncing around the court in your tiny skirt, the fabric swishing around your legs as you wave your racquet in the air. You would be sure being a tennis player doesn't have anything to do with being sexy, but in hindsight, if you think about the way your skin shines as the sunlight bounces off it, or the way your shorts peek out from under the hem, it's not too hard to imagine why someone would lose their minds at the sight. 
Especially if that someone is your coach, Hyunjin, the person who's seen you wear all sorts of unintentionally sexy outfits during the two years he's been training you. From the yellow shorts you save for your matches, to the sports bra you put on while going jogging in the morning, he's had the pleasure of seeing them all, and yet, he has to say his favorite is the very white skirt you're wearing right now, coupled with that baby blue crop top. 
It's not his fault if he lets his mind wander a little whenever you're under his gaze, or so he tells himself, reasoning that it's only natural to be aroused upon seeing such a heavenly figure. It's only natural to want to run his hands along that supple skin, and to place kisses to all the places of your body that no one else has ever seen before.
Because to him, it appears as if you're doing this on purpose, just to rile your poor, musing coach up until he can't take it anymore and does something that's not right by the book. And you're not exactly proving him wrong either, not when you beckon for him to help you out a new move, a shy smile on your face while your hand shields your eyes. 
It's like an invitation to him, his mind clouding over with darkness despite the brightness of the day as he saunters over. "Yes, darling?," he chuckles, and you can't help but get flustered at the pet name he uses for you. He's told you a handful of times how he's always this friendly with his students, but you can tell that you're the only one for whom he's got that word reserved. And you can't exactly say you don't like it, because who doesn't enjoy the attention, especially if it's coming from a guy as hot as Hyunjin?
So you let him be, let him take a place behind your form as his hands gently make their way to your shoulders, snaking down your arms and getting you in position. "Your stance is too stiff," he mumbles against your ear, his teeth only barely grazing the skin of your earlobe as he fights the urge to bite down at it. The feeling leaves a tingling in its wake, making you gulp a little as he moves even closer, his chest now pressed flat against your back. 
He might as well be in heaven right now, judging from the way he almost finds himself unable to hold back the smirk that threatens to paint his lips, the part of his body that rests between his thighs urging him to pull you to him by the waist, eager to feel the way your hips would be rolling against his own. "Relax, darling," he mutters, his hands slipping away from your arms and choosing to feel down your sides and come to rest near your butt as he positions you correctly (or pretends to do so, anyway). 
You know exactly what he's up to, but there's nothing you can say, or rather, nothing that you want to say. "Feel one with your racquet, act as if it's a part of your being." That's the final piece of advice he gives you, before pulling away to monitor your moves from a distance. Though both you and him know that's yet another pretense, and what he really plans on doing is enjoying the view from the best place, wanting see each and every move of your body. 
Feeling his eyes raking across your form, you raise your arm, the ball in your hand being tossed into the air as you slam it down, lifting your body up into the sky. The ball does a clean smash on the other side of the net, and while Hyunjin was supposed to be praising you for getting the move right at last, he finds his mind too preoccupied with how gorgeous your midriff looks as your top rides up your torso, the urge to touch you even more overwhelming than before. 
All of a sudden, all he can think of is how badly he needs to feel every inch of your skin against his fingers, calloused from playing tennis for years. He wants to press his lips to the warmth that lies in the valley of your breasts, and he wants to life that short skirt up your legs and discover all the secrets you've kept hidden under the outfits you wear. He needs to love your body, he needs to worship each and every curve and dip.
He needs to feel your nails digging into his back as he leaves open-mouthed kisses to your neck and throat, and he needs to hear you moan in that velvety voice of yours as he shoves his tongue into your core and licks stripes and shapes up your pussy. He wants to feel your lips get wrapped around his cock, and he wants to feel the way your palms run up and down his length and massage his balls as you go down on him, showing him stars in the daytime. 
He wants to see your body, see the effect that playing tennis for hours every day has had on it, and he wants to bury his face between your breasts while his cock thrusts and twitches inside you, and he wants to push his seed that spills out of your hole, back into it and fill you up. Yeah, he wants to fuck you. Fuck you inside the changing room, against the lockers. He wants to drag you to his car and fuck you on the backseat, and then he wants to bring you to his home and fuck you against every surface, from the kitchen counter to the bed. He wants to reward you for being a good student, and he wants to punish you for being so distracting. 
He knows what he wants to do, he's known it for a while now. But until today, what he didn't know was how he was going to do what he wanted to do, yet in this moment, he thinks he finally knows. The tournament is coming up, and being the star that you are, he knows you're gonna win. He'll have plenty of time to give you a prize after that, and a good reason too. 
And until that time comes, he can always rely on the stock of photos he has of you (to show you how your form changes throughout a match) to help him through the night.
702 notes · View notes