Tumgik
#stop the world i want to get off with queue
depressedraisin · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
miles kane serving at fashion shows through the years 💅
with suki waterhouse, burberry womenswear s/s 2013, london fashion week (2012) // with lisa, celine menswear s/s 2020, paris fashion week (2019)// with alex turner, saint laurent fall ready to wear 2014, paris fashion week (2014) // saint laurent menswear f/w 2015, paris fashion week (2014) // with alexa chung and agyness deyn, house of holland 2009, london fashion week (2009) // with alexa chung (and others), celine menswear- hedi slimane's debut show, paris fashion week (2018) // with alexa chung, celine womenswear f/w 2021, paris fashion week (2020) // celine menswear f/w 2019, paris fashion week (2019) // celine womenswear s/s 2020, paris fashion week (2019) // with tinie tempah and david gandy, a sauvage 2015, london fashion week (2015) //
72 notes · View notes
sttoru · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. satoru’s love for you has never diminished—even after being your husband for a few years now. in fact, his love for you continues to increase with each passing day.
wc. 500-ish
tags. husband!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff. satoru being clingy as per usual. reader gets called ‘sweetheart, my wife.’
Tumblr media
“and my lovely wife right here will have the vanilla flavour,” satoru announces to the ice cream man. he’s smiling from ear to ear as he shamelessly puts emphasis on the word ‘lovely’.
it’s embarrassing to you. especially because everyone in the queue - plus the vendor - is staring at you. some giggle at the affectionate display from your husband, others just stare or roll their eyes.
satoru does not care about any of them. all he cares about is expressing his love to you in any way he can—whenever, wherever. this time he went for a much more. . . direct approach.
“you didn’t have to say it like that,” you mumble under your breath. you tug at satoru’s arm, clinging onto him whilst hiding your face against his bicep.
you get even more flustered when the man behind the counter nods at your lover’s words—telling you he ‘agrees that you’re indeed a lovely woman’.
satoru feels a sense of pride in having you with him. he always does. seeing the reactions of others when he’s boasting about having a pretty wife makes him feel all giddy.
“why? i’m proud of my wife,” satoru shrugs nonchalantly. he lowers his head to yours, looking you in the eyes from behind his sunglasses. he giggles once he sees that flustered expression of yours from up close.
the sorcerer ruffles your hair before over excessively nuzzling his cheek against yours. perhaps he’s actually experiencing what’s called a love surge, “my girl, my sweetheart.”
you cringe at the cheesy moment that’s happening. you love satoru and his clingy affectionate gestures, but when you’re surrounded by a bunch of people, it can become overwhelming.
you whimper and scrunch your nose up, “mghhh, stop it—we’re in public, ‘toru.”
a futile attempt to stop the white haired man. though, after a few seconds, he actually halts his movements. satoru pouts dramatically whilst holding your face in his hands. he squeezes your cheeks together, “awww. . . but what if i want the world to know that i’m the luckiest man ali—ow!”
you bite satoru’s thumb the second it teasingly rubs with your bottom lip. he’s always so touchy and knows no boundaries when it comes to pda. however, it does make you happy to know that he’s not afraid to show you off to the world.
you playfully frown at your husband, his thumb still between your teeth. it’s cute how easily flustered you get. it makes him want to play with you some more—to tease you some more.
“alright, alright,” satoru gives up and sighs deeply. his head is held low as he steps back to give you some space, “i jus’ wanted to let my girl know how much i adore her, y’know.”
“hah, i’m not falling for your dramatics this time,” you chuckle and roll your eyes. you grab your order once it’s done and walk out of the shop without waiting for your pouty but lovely husband.
you hear him whine out your name. satoru hurriedly grabs his own ice cream cone before rushing after you. once he’s caught up, he wraps his arms around you from behind and lifts you up.
“hey! you can’t just leave your hubby like that. c’mere,” satoru smirks and you can hear it in his voice. you kick your legs, though to no avail.
“gojo satoru! don’t you dare,” you warn whilst holding tightly onto your dessert. satoru ignores your warning and spins you around in circles with him—laughing at your high pitched shrieks.
he doesn’t stop until you’re both dizzy and have to hold onto each other to prevent from falling. satoru kisses your neck gently and you can feel him smiling against your skin, “i love you, sweetheart.”
his love for you has and will never fade. many may say that the honeymoon phase will end sooner or later in a marriage, but that’s definitely not the case with your marriage.
satoru will always be head over heels for you and his affection for you will never stop. even if you’re both old and grey; he’s going to love you all the same.
Tumblr media
5K notes · View notes
tasteleeknow · 1 year
Text
BETWEEN
Tumblr media
PAIRING: minho + chan x fem!reader GENRE: smut. fluff. f2l. roommates au. threesome/poly. CONTENT: 18+ minors dni. WORD COUNT: 5k
SUMMARY: Your two roommates are your best friends in the world. You’d also love nothing more than to be sandwiched between them. Queue tension and smut with feelings.
Tumblr media
do not repost to other sites, including translations.
It’s laundry day, a day you’ve put off a little long. You end up grabbing a shirt from Minho’s clean clothing he’d left in the dryer to throw over your head as you wait for your own load to finish. Neither of them were around. You’re leaning over the counter to grab a paper towel when the front door opens. You peak around the corner just as Chris is throwing his shoes aside. Okay, this is fine. The shirt is just long enough to hang over the tops of your thighs, covering the pale blue underwear you’d slept in.
There’s no escape. You’re going to have to face your friend in your underwear. Be casual about it, you tell yourself. It’s not a big deal. You really needed to stop putting off doing laundry. 
You continue with your task, wiping down the kitchen bench as your eggs fry. “Are you hungry?!” you call out. “I’m making breakfast if you want anything.” 
He was always up before you and Minho, spending his early mornings at the gym. 
“I’m starv…ing….” he trails off from behind you. Alright, so he’d noticed the no pants thing. Act casual. 
“Good, I’m making extra. I thought—” 
Then he’s behind you, not quite touching, but hovering so close you're forced to pause your cleaning. He leans over you. “You can wear mine, if you like,” he says, tugging a little at the hem of Minho’s t-shirt. 
Then he’s gone. The shower starts just as the dryer announces your clothes are ready. 
You’d hoped your regular nightmares would be left in childhood. But as you’d grown out of your favourite shoes and your allergy to soy, your nightmares had stuck. The first time you’d crept into Minho’s room after a particularly bad one, you’d nudged him awake hesitantly. He’d welcomed you under his covers, unquestioning. They stayed away with him, with Chris too the few times he’d fallen asleep in your bed. It was only when you were alone that your sleep was disturbed. 
Minho is curled up on his side when you crawl under his sheets, shuffling as close to him as possible without touching. He still stirs when you roll over to face the edge of the bed. He would always wake up when you joined him. He connects his front to your back, as always. But then, with a small contented noise from his throat, his hand slips up under the hem of your shirt—his warm palm resting against your stomach. 
This is new. 
“Min?” you whisper. 
When he doesn’t respond, you roll over. His hand slips to rest on your back. You reach up to brush his hair behind his ear, tucking the soft strands away from his eyes. His hair was longer than you’d ever seen it. He hadn’t bothered getting it cut. He hums, almost a purr. He’s awake. “Does it bother you when I sleep here?” you whisper.
His brows pull together slightly and then he tugs you a little closer, pressing you right up against his chest. You have a feeling that’s all the answer you’ll be receiving. 
You watch as he drifts off. It only takes him a few minutes. His features go slack, lips parting slightly as his breathing evens out. You follow him shortly after. 
It’s only a few hours later that you find yourself staring at the ceiling—Minho’s legs tangled with your own. The nightmare that had led you into this room had been particularly bad, startling you awake with a racing heart. You’re usually fine after joining Minho. But not tonight. It’s enough that you find yourself creeping from his bedroom in the early hours of the morning, completely giving up on more sleep. It’s unsurprising when you find Chris awake, lounging on the couch with a book in his hands. He often had a worse time with sleep than you did. 
“Nightmare?” he says as you settle into his side, resting your head against his shoulder. 
“Mm. Nothing new, it was just… more intense.” 
He lifts the woollen blanket off his legs and drapes it over you. “Intense?” he questions. 
“He-It… stood right over me. It usually just gets to my door before I wake up but… it walked right up to my bed and just… stood there. It felt like he was going to lunge at me any second… it was—” you cut yourself off as you bury your face in his shoulder, a shiver running up your spine. 
“You’re alright,” he soothes. “Promise.” 
“I know. I just… I hate sleeping alone.”
Minho chooses that moment to stumble into the room, fluffy socks sliding along the floorboards as he runs his fingers through his hair. He collapses onto the couch beside you seconds later, dropping his head into your lap as he stretches out as much as he can along the cushions.
Chris huffs out a breathy laugh beside you, draping his arm over your shoulder—book forgotten. “Problem solved,” he says. 
“Where’d you go?” Minho mumbles from your lap, eyes closed. 
“Couldn’t sleep,” you answer as you brush his hair from his face, the soft brown strands a pleasant occupation for your hands. 
A bolt of lightning lights up the room, drowning out the soft glow from the lamp Chris had been using to read. “The storm?” Minho questions as you play with his hair, stroking some of the strands around his temples. 
“My dreams,” you correct. 
“You don’t have them with me.” 
“I know… but the one I had earlier just lingered, I guess.” 
All three of you are quiet as rain starts falling, the type of rain that falls heavy with no build up—creating a curtain between you and the world.
“Stop sleeping alone, then,” Minho says. “Just stay with me.” 
You take a moment to process his meaning. Then, “Everynight?” 
“Mm.” 
The corner of your mouth lifts a little. They were so good to you, both of them. “Love you,” you whisper as your fingers brush the shell of his ear. 
He says nothing, his upper lip twitching a little. 
You told them both as often as you could. You loved them more than anyone on earth. They had to know. It had morphed though, the type of love. That was always how you knew you’d end up loving someone. You had to know them so completely that you were safe, comfortable. Love them as friends, then as lovers. 
It was the way Minho would keep one eye on you in public, when he knew you’d get overwhelmed. He always managed to catch onto when you wanted to leave before you’d even had a chance to voice it. He was quiet with his love, softly spoken words of comfort that you’d absorb without moving a muscle. If you moved, he might startle—shrink back into his comfort zone. 
Chris’ attention was a little different. Rambling words, tripping over himself as he told you about his day. A hand on your back as you made your way through the busy weekend market. While Minho kept his eye on you from a distance, Chris was up close—physical contact and direct questioning. 
A clap of thunder rumbles through the sky as Chris detangles himself from you. “Hot chocolate?” he asks. 
“Mm, thank you.” 
“Minho?” he prompts.
The man in question grunts out something that Chris interprets as a yes. “Three hot chocolates,” he says as he disappears into the kitchen, leaving you with a half asleep man in your lap. You continue playing with his hair as the storm intensifies. You’d always liked storms. They formed a protective barrier from the rest of the world. The air was washed clean, the suffocating heat of summer days was quashed, and no one expected anything from you.
You begin tracing over the tiny scars and imperfections that mark Minho’s face, little traces of evidence from his life before you’d met. It was hard to imagine that you’d ever been without him. It was only out of ignorance that you’d endured it. 
“Do you really not mind if I sleep with you?” you ask, hoping he won’t retract his offer. “You won’t get sick of me?” 
His eyes flutter open, long dark lashes visible even in the dim light. “I like it,” he says simply. I love you, you hear. 
It’s an easy routine to fall into. Your room becomes a glorified closet as you spend each night in Minho’s instead. He even puts up with your pillow talk, and on nights where he’s particularly energetic, he offers a few thoughtful comments in addition to his hums of acknowledgement. 
The feeling of the mattress dipping as someone sinks into the bed behind you wakes you. It’s the smell of his shampoo that tells you it’s Chris that wraps around you. “You awake?” he whispers. 
“Mm, couldn’t sleep?” 
“Yeah,” he confirms. 
Minho makes a small noise before draping his leg over you, smacking his lips before stilling again. You’re completely enveloped now, two warm bodies sheltering you from the darkness. Chris didn’t join you often. You’d spent a few nights with your back to the dark room wishing he would. Minho’s bed was centred in the room. You preferred having yours pushed against the wall. It felt safer. 
Chris makes a small contended noise as he presses up behind you.
“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he whispers after a moment, breath ghosting over your neck. “You bent over the counter… your thighs…” It takes you off guard. You know what he’s talking about, despite it being weeks ago that he caught you in Minho’s shirt. You find yourself unable to breathe, heart thumping so loud you're sure he must hear it. “It’s wrong—dirty to think about you that way,” he continues. “I know. I know I shouldn’t.” 
“Why?” 
A pause. “What?” 
“Why is it wrong?” 
He’s quiet. Then, “Because you don’t want it.” 
“How do you know?” 
His hand rests at your hip, a comforting hold. He’s quiet as you reach down to take his hand in yours and guide it up to your lips. You press a kiss to the side of his hand, just below his thumb. A slow kiss, one you hope conveys all the meaning you intend it to. 
When you release him, he doesn’t move. Not apart from brushing his thumb over your lips. He can’t see at all what he’s doing, still behind you in the dark room. He goes by feel, playing with your lower lip until—with a tiny amount of pressure—he pushes inside. Your lips wrap around him, taking his thumb as he presses it to your tongue. 
Then he starts whispering, “I wanted to hold you down, press you into the counter and lift the shirt a little higher.” 
You hum around his thumb, wrapping your own fingers around his wrist to hold him there. You’re not dreaming, you’re sure of it. You’re awake and sandwiched between the two people you love most. It’s surreal. This was always the way it would have gone. Chris was always going to be the one to bring you all together, finally.
He continues, “How would you sound?” His breathing is heavier now. “If I fucked you against it? Would you make pretty little noises? Would you say my name?” His thumb moves in and out a little as you suck at it. “I can’t stop thinking about it. How warm are you… how would you suck me in…” 
Minho makes a small noise and you both still, waiting to see if he’ll wake. 
“Have you ever heard him whine your name?” Chris starts again. His low whispers are a little more hushed now. “He tries not to. He tries so hard. He usually does it in the shower, when he knows you aren’t home.” 
Your grip tightens on his wrist. 
Chris continues, “You know how he is: he’s shy.” Warm lips to your neck, a firm press. “He wants you though.” His nose brushes the skin behind your ear as he nuzzles a little further into you. Then he laughs, quiet and breathy. “He was so casual when he said you should sleep here, like he doesn’t wrap his hand around his cock and imagine he was brave enough to fuck you into the mattress.”
You pull your lips from his thumb, leaving it wet. “Are you—Are you sure?” you whisper, attempting to turn your head to face him. His hand wraps around your throat, holding you in place and preventing you from turning. 
“I’d never lie to you, baby.” His fingers are gentle at your neck, his thumb stroking your skin slowly. “I love you.” It’s surreal hearing those words in such a new context. Whispered into your neck as his wet thumb traces patterns against your throat. “Should we wake him up? We’ll have to be gentle,” he murmurs into your hair. “Don’t want him to startle.” 
“Chris?” It’s almost a whine. 
“Mm?” he hums, hips pressed right up against you now. 
“Love you too.” 
His fingers press slightly into your neck as he adjusts himself behind you. “Mm, I know.” Then his hand drops from your neck, across your hips, to your lower back. He pushes you a little, moving you across the mattress towards Minho. He still has one leg draped over yours. “Make sure he does. I’m not sure if he knows the same way I do.” He nudges you a little more. “Go on.” 
Minho’s lips are parted. You reach to brush his plush upper lip with the tips of your fingers. Then, with far too much gentleness for someone trying to wake a person, you snake your hand around the back of his neck and into his hair. “Min,” you call gently as your fingers caress his scalp. “Minho.” 
You watch his brows furrow as he stirs. Then his eyes flutter open. His lashes were visible even in the dim light. As you watch them flutter you’re reminded of a morning you’d awoken to find him half draped over you, his face buried in your neck. As his eyes had blinked open only minutes later, you’d felt them—his lashes tickling your neck like the fluttering wings of a butterfly. 
“Mm?” he hums now, still blinking himself awake. 
“I love you.” 
He frowns, then grumbles something under his breath before rolling over away from you. You suspect he doesn’t understand how you mean it, that you don’t mean it exactly the way you always do. Another tactic then. 
“Do you think about me in the shower?” 
You feel the bed dip a little, Chris moving behind you. A tiny muffled noise follows. He was laughing into your pillow. 
Minho is still. 
You attempt to repeat yourself, “I said do you—” 
“I heard,” Minho says, still facing away from you. His voice is rough from sleep. “What is he doing here?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” the man in question answers from behind you. “Was kept awake by thoughts of bending our girl over the kitchen counter.” 
Our girl. Our girl. Our—
Minho sits up. So quickly it startles you.
“Are you gonna answer her question?” Chris prods. 
Minho rubs at his eyes as he turns to face you. You sit up, partly just so you can reach up and smooth down a tuft of stubborn hair that sticks out from his temple. He licks his lips. “What’s happening?” he mumbles. 
“I love you,” you repeat. He looks at you now, in that way that clearly betrays the cogs are turning. You press your lips together in poorly suppressed fondness as he processes. 
“You… love me?” he says finally. 
You press a kiss to his cheek in answer, an innocent peck. 
“Answer the question,” Chris says from his reclined position on your pillows, clearly enjoying the show. You don’t turn to him, but you can picture the grin on his face clear as day. 
Minho blinks. You decide to help him a little, “In the shower?” 
His eyes drop, breaking eye contact. 
“I have too,” you offer. “I’ve thought about you.” His eyes are back on yours. You’re half tempted to call a pause so you can flick a light on. The darkness is stealing the depth of his brown eyes from you. “I only ever think about either of you—both of you sometimes. I felt a little guilty… I-I didn’t want you to—”
“Both… of us?” he interrupts. 
You can only nod. What do you say to that? 
Then he’s looking over your shoulder, engaging in a silent exchange with Chris. They did this often. You wonder if they’re able to communicate without words because they were merely remembering conversations they had when you weren’t around. Had they had a conversation about you? About this? 
An arm snakes around your waist. Chris drops a soft kiss to your neck, pressing himself so close behind you you’re practically enveloped by him. Safe. Minho reaches towards you, it’s hesitant and you hold your breath as his fingers brush your cheek. Don’t startle him. 
“Me more though, mm?” he asks with a small tilt of his head and a lopsided smirk. 
Chris rocks you to the side a little as he laughs, detaching Minho’s palm from your cheek. That’s the way he was: Minho. Layers of wit and charm blanketing a soft interior. You don’t give me a chance to retreat any further, falling forward out of Chris’ arms and forcing Minho to catch you in his own. He helps you settle in his lap, lifting you a little as you rearrange your limbs. 
“This doesn’t mean I wanna share with anyone else,” you start as you brush the hair from his face. “Just us, yeah?” 
He nods. His eyes flick over your shoulder and then drop to your lips. “Just us,” he agrees. Then his lips are brushing yours, teasing just like his words so often are. You pull him to you properly by the back of his neck, his grown out hair offering you plenty of leverage to hold him where you need. He lets you take from him, lets you guide him. Teasing… and then giving. That’s the way he was. 
Chris settles himself behind you. He litters your neck with kisses as you squirm a little in Minho’s lap, attempting to have more, more, more. Your arms are practically wrapped around his head as you lift a little on your knees, grasping at his hair until Chris is pulling you off him. You take in the way you’ve left Minho as you’re tugged back against the other man. His hair is a mess, lips wet and slightly parted as he catches his breath. You’re tempted to reach out and grab at him like a baby reaching for candy. 
But then you’re distracted, tipped onto your side and pulled tight against a solid torso. “There’s no rush,” Chris says with a breathy laugh. “He’s not leaving.” You meet Minho’s eyes as Chris returns his thumb to your mouth. “There you go,” he encourages. “Good girl.” 
Your breathing settles back into a normal rhythm. He was right. You’d been frantic, desperate. If you rush it’d be over—the last thing you want. You can’t help rolling your hips a little though, not when Minho is looking at you the way he is, watching as you suckle on Chris’ thumb. They were yours. Take your time. 
You reach for Chris’ wrist, wrapping your fingers around it as Minho lays his head on his pillow. Chris rolls his hips into you as you pull his finger from your mouth, slowly, right to the tip. He presses his finger back in before you have a chance to do it yourself. You tug him free of your lips. “I thought there was no rush?” you whisper.
His lips ghost over your earlobe as he speaks, “Am I being greedy?” 
“You stole her,” Minho answers before you can. 
“I saved you,” Chris argues before pressing his lips behind your ear. “She was devouring you.” 
“Maybe I wanted to be devoured.” 
You reach for Minho’s hand and bring his finger to your lips, pressing a kiss to his fingertip. Chris resumes his grinding as you slip Minho’s finger into your mouth. Devour. It feels like an appropriate description as you lay there sucking on his finger with Chris leaving messy kisses at your neck. “What would you like?” he mutters between kisses. “Tell me what you want.” 
It’s a loaded question. You decide to answer as simply as you can, distracted by the way Minho watches you suck on his finger. He licks his lips as you pull him from your mouth. “Fuck me like this. Just like this. Surrounding me.” 
“Surrounding you?” Chan questions, his hand at your stomach holding you firm against him. 
“Mm. Feels safe.. I-I like being between you.” 
He presses his face into the hair behind your ear. “You’re safe, baby.” His hand slips into the waistband of your shorts. “Always.” 
Minho shuffles a little closer to you, close enough that he can replace his finger with his lips. You go practically limp as they each prepare you—Chris with his fingers playing with your cunt, and Minho with his tongue in your mouth and his hand up your shirt. Surrounded. It’s so easy to lose yourself like this, to roll your hips and grasp at Minho’s hair, to forget about any shame as you let small whimpers escape into his mouth. Chris is playing, it’s the perfect word to describe the way his fingers prod and swipe at your cunt. He must feel how you drip for him, how his fingers slip easily through your folds, but you’re alone with the desperate pulse—the emptiness that begs to be filled with a dull throb. 
Minho makes a small noise as you tug a little too hard at his hair. He squeezes your breast in his hand as punishment, his palm warm and perfectly sized to hold you. “Are you getting desperate again?” Chris mumbles into your neck. “Be gentle with him, baby.” 
You whimper a little, nipping at Minho’s lip in defiance. He pulls back a little and a flood of anxiety floods into your chest at the thought he might be leaving, that you’d pushed it too far. But then he’s shuffling down the bed and lifting your shirt up, tugging the fabric up above your tits. He stays there, his breath warm against your nipples as his fingers trace patterns across your skin. 
“Listen,” Chris whispers. His fingers speed up without warning, strumming at your entrance—too low to brush your clit. His goal is clear when the wet sounds of your slick fill the room, his fingers stopping their rapid strumming to prod at your hole every few seconds. You should be embarrassed, you would be in any other situation. But not here. Not with them. 
You feel Minho’s whispered, “Fuck.” His breath is hot before he latches onto your breast. It’s a wonderful distraction as your shorts and underwear are tugged down your legs and discarded, as Chris aligns himself behind you and slips his cock between your legs. The tip brushes your click as he grinds into you like this. Minho’s head is perfectly placed to entangle your fingers in his hair and hold him to your chest as he continues sucking at you. 
It should be overwhelming. It’s all new and so much, so, so much. But it isn’t. You’re home. You’re surrounded. You’re with them. You practically float as you’re pressed between them, as they consume you. 
You’re grateful Minho insists on sleeping with the air conditioning going, now more than ever. Heat surrounds you. Minho’s hot mouth at your breast. Chris’ cock hot between your legs and his warm chest pressed to your back. Heat. 
“Do you want me now?” Chan says, voice a little strained. His cock nudges your entrance, tip prodding and retreating over and over. “You want me to fuck you into Minho, hm?” 
“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes.” 
His teeth graze your skin as he pushes in, the ghost of a bite—followed by a low moan. You cling to Minho as you’re filled, holding him to your chest as his tongue laves at you—devouring.
You squeak as Chris pulls out and fucks back in suddenly, shoving you slightly up the bed. Minho makes a small sound before reattaching himself, determined not to be disturbed. Chris is a little gentler after that, deep and slow rolls of his hips that have you pressing into Minho each time. Eventually he detaches from you and moves up the bed. You expect him to kiss you. Instead he keeps just fair enough away that you can’t lean forward and capture his lips. He watches your face, traces his eyes across your features as Chris fucks you from behind. 
You should feel exposed. But you don’t. You always liked when his eyes were on you. He reaches to lift some hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear as Chris fucks into you. Then he leans in, so close his lips brush yours. Each thrust of Chris’ hips bring you tantalisingly close to joining. Teasing and giving, that was Minho. You wait for him to give. It only takes a minute or so longer. Then he’s pressing right up against you, practically crushing you between their two bodies as he bites into your shoulder. 
You cum with Chris’ fingers on your clit and Minho’s teeth on your neck. 
“Do you want my cum?” Chris groans. “I’ll make you all messy for him. Do you want that? He can fuck it back inside you for me.” 
All you can do is nod, a weak noise accompanying it. Minho’s lips are on yours a second later, wet and messy as you let him take what he needs. He swallows the whimper you release as Chris shoves into you one last time and releases inside you. You’re surrounded by heat, pressed between them tightly. 
Chris grinds into you again for a moment, panting into your neck as you lay full of him. “Love you,” he murmurs finally. 
Minho leaves a peck at the corner of your mouth. “Okay?” he asks. Your fingers massage his scalp a little as you hum in response. 
“Need you though.” 
“Now?” 
“Mm. Now… in the morning… tomorrow night too.” 
He smiles, lopsided and satisfied. “Why?” 
“Love you.” 
He drapes a leg over you as Chris slips from behind you and disappears into the bathroom. “Sorry?” Minho questions with a smirk. “Couldn’t hear you.” 
You tug at his hair. “Don’t be a brat.” 
He rolls you onto your back, pressing you into the mattress. “I do think about you,” he says, voice taking on a softer tone. He switched like that often, letting his walls down without warning. “Not just… not just in the shower. I think about you when I’m at work… when something happens and I’m stressed or—” he pauses, lowering himself onto his elbows. “I think about you a lot.”
“About fucking me?” 
His nose scrunches as he drops his eyes. “Not just that. Just… in lots of ways.”
“I love you too.” 
He drops his face to your neck as Chris reenters the room. You roll Minho back onto his side, allowing Chris to resume his position behind you—how you liked it.
It’s a little slower when Minho presses his body to yours and fills you. Less frenzied than Chris had been. He grinds his cock deep, pressing you into Chris’ chest. You silently curse the years you’d spent in your own bed, all the nights you could have been pressed between them like this. It was only out of ignorance that you’d endured it. If you’d known how it felt to be sandwiched between them, to be full of one’s cum as the other fucks it deep inside—
“How does she feel?” Chris asks as his fingers wrap around your throat, a gentle cradle. 
Minho groans in response, reaching to your hip to give him leverage as he sheathes himself right to the hilt. You forget to breathe as he speaks, “Hot… Hot and dripping, fucking sloppy.” Your breath is forced back into your lungs as he suddenly pulls out and fucks back in. “Listen.” He jostles you into Chris as he speeds up, filling the room with the wet sound of his cock fucking the cum into your already wet cunt. He was shy. He was your shy best friend and he was demonstrating how wet you were to the man pressed to your back. 
You latch onto his neck, forcing him to slow as you press your teeth into his skin. His hips stutter a little before he resumes, a scattered pattern much less controlled than the one he’d started with. You lick at the bite mark when you’re done. “You’re so good,” you whisper. “You’re mine.” 
When he cums it’s with a gasp of your name. You imagine it’s how he sounded in the shower, how he’d sounded all the times he’d thought of you. Had he ever thought of you like that a few hours before you’d crept into his bed to seek comfort. 
Chris reaches over you as Minho catches his breath. “Let me feel,” he whispers before his fingers are on you, playing with your dripping entrance and strumming at your clit until you cum with his hand around your throat.
6K notes · View notes
nyctophicbtch · 1 year
Text
The Songcord - Neteyam
[ Neteyam x Omatikaya!reader ]
Request: Can I request a Neteyam x Omaticaya!reader
Author’s note: I recommend listening to From Darkness to Light, The Spirit Tree, and The Songcord if you have tissues prepared
Warnings: angst, mentions of blood, death
Word Count: 3,101
Tumblr media
“Feels like I haven’t been here in ages,” you muttered, hands brushing the glowing strands of the tree of voices. Kiri and Tuk were already immersed in their own worlds, not hearing a thing you were saying. Spider was out exploring on his own, eyeing the sky, the flowers, the tree, and basically everything else.
“Better make the most of it then,” Lo’ak replied, attaching his queue to a strand.
Neteyam was standing near the bark, and it looked like he wasn’t going to join them any time soon, so you followed Lo’ak and did the same.
It had been a while since you’d done this, or had been anywhere near the tree at all. Although there were plenty of excuses to use, you knew you were just scared of what you’d see.
It was moments like these, where you’d hear and see your actual parents, that made you afraid. You had been fighting so long to earn your place here with the Sully’s.
Even though you started off wanting to befriend the family of the person who insisted on becoming your friend, it’d grown into something deeper over time. And every time you looked back to your parents whenever you visited the tree made you realize that you could never have what you actually wanted.
The feeling overwhelmed you, screamed at you until the bond was forcefully broken and you were thrown back off your balance. You didn’t know what was happening, but you could somehow make out Lo’ak’s muffled yelling over your blurry vision and ringing ears.
“Neteyam!”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know!”
“Move!” You felt hands grasping your shoulders, but you were too caught up on trying to breathe to see who it was. It felt like the air was sucked out of you and none of your senses were working properly. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re here.”
There was no coherent thought on what was going on, but you could feel the thumb gently rubbing small circles on your shoulder.
“Shh. You’re okay,” Neteyam whispered, leaning his forehead to yours.
Your shallow breaths slowly returned to normal, and you started to make sense of what was happening. You could start to feel the numbing of your legs from the uncomfortable position, and you could see Lo’ak’s worried gaze on you. You started to hear Neteyam’s comforting words clearer and feel the way he was holding you.
You heard the sigh of relief Lo’ak released when you felt yourself calming down and Spider running towards you, closing your eyes to let yourself succumb to Neteyam’s comforting hold.
He kept his eyes closed and forehead pressed against yours for as long as you’d like to assure you that he wasn’t going anywhere. It was only when you felt the numbing of your legs begin to worsen when you pulled away, finally looking at your surroundings.
Kiri and Tuk were still engrossed in their memories and it looked like they did not witness the scene that had just unfold beside them, much to your relief. You didn’t know how you’d explain this to the cheery child.
“Hey, you okay? What was that?” Spider questioned.
“I don’t know.”
They all decided to leave you to yourself and give you time to think, well except Lo’ak who wasn’t going to let it slide that easily.
“What did you see?” he asked as he sat down beside you, leaning his head against a tree.
“The usual.”
“Then why did-“ Lo’ak stopped himself with a sigh before he could interrogate you any further. “Don’t leave me hanging for too long. Talk when you’re ready.”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“Guys, it’s dark out we need to get back.” You heard Kiri call out from a distance.
“You were the one that took so long,” Lo’ak replied as he stood up, offering a hand to you for support.
“Let’s go, children.” Neteyam rallied everyone, placing a hand on Tuk’s back when she almost lost her balance.
You all ran back from the way you came, anxiousness gripping at each one of you when you saw the sky completely dark, the only thing lighting it up were the stars and moons.
But there was no room to worry about curfew when all you could think about was what had happened back there. Everything happened so fast you could barely process it.
“You coming?” Neteyam’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.
You looked up to the boy waiting for you, his head turned back to face you expectantly. In a matter of seconds, you regained your senses and jumped up to the branch near him.
Maybe you didn’t really regain all of your senses after all, considering how you slipped on the moss and fell backwards. Lucky for you, Neteyam had incredible reflexes, grabbing your hand before you managed to fall. Being the Olo’eyktan in training had its perks.
“Careful.”
“Thanks,” you muttered half-heartedly.
Neteyam decided he wasn’t going to press you further on it, giving you some space for whatever is going on in your head.
The branches suddenly felt further apart than they were, and your legs felt heavy as you leaped from branch to branch, following the Sully kids.
“Mom’s going to be so mad,” said Kiri as she ran past Lo’ak to catch up with Spider. Poor Tuk was left behind, so you grabbed her hand and matched your pace with the youngest Sully.
“Come on, Tuk,” you encouraged her when you saw the big jump she had to make. She pursed her lips and made a running start before leaping, Neteyam steadying her balance on the other side.
“Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you,” he whispered as you passed him.
You could see the circled-outlines of the moons in the sky, their glow being the only thing that allowed you to see your path, apart from the glow behind the opening in a tree bark that indicated you were finally there.
“And where-“ Neytiri started as Neteyam joined your circle. “Have you all been?”
Technically you weren’t actually family, you thought as you slowly backed away from them. With it being so dark and you standing on the edge of the group made your escape seem pretty easy. Neteyam noticed your movements but didn’t comment on it.
“You too.” You froze in your spot, Neytiri’s eyes trained on you like a spotlight.
You doubted that they saw you as family, but Jake and Neytiri had an odd way of making you feel like it. You had been a little younger than Tuk when Lo’ak had found you, and from there, each day you spent with the Sullys brought you closer to the family. But in times like this, you wished you didn’t feel like part of the family enough to escape Neytiri’s scolding.
-
“Why do they get to do the fun stuff while we sit here? I’d rather join them.”
“Suit yourself. I like it here,” replied Kiri.
Just on time, you stopped your pacing and ran out to the sound of the people shouting for the war party. The scene that greeted you wasn’t what you had initially expected, but it was no surprise either.
You kept your distance as you watched the two boys look down guiltily when Kiri approached, trying to drag the older brother out of the situation.
However, the huge gash on Neteyam’s chest worried you more than anything. His tail was swishing gently, showing the unease he felt.
Eventually, Jake let them both go and you followed them into the tent, and when the boys saw you, their faces lit up.
“Hey,” you approached Neteyam who was sitting on top of a wooden table with Kiri tending to his wounds.
“I’m offended you didn’t come to me first,” grumbled Lo’ak from the corner of the room. He had his arms crossed over his chest stubbornly, and the bright look turned into a sour one.
Although you knew he was messing around, you heard some truth in his words. Besides, it was Lo’ak that had befriended you first, and it was him that had spent his nights up to no good with you when his brother was busy being a good child.
“Missed you too, Lo’ak.”
“Ouch. Can you not?” Neteyam flinched as Kiri pressed into the cut a little too forcefully.
“Do you want me to help?”
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
“No I’m not,” she scoffed before pressing his wound even harsher, making him slap her hand away. “Now that was on purpose. You do it, I’m gonna find Tuk.”
Kiri gave you the bowl before exiting the tent. You were never one for healing, but you saw her plenty of times and she knew that. It was usually Kiri that did all the work when her brothers came back all bruised and bleeding.
“It’s fine. I don’t need it anyways,” Neteyam argued and started to get up when you smeared the sap on his cut.
“It’s deep. You’ll get an infection.”
“No it’s-“
“Sit down.” You gently pushed the hand that wasn’t holding the bowl to his chest and Neteyam sat down. He kept his eyes on you as you continued working on him, making sure to be extra gentle.
“I’m still here,” Lo’ak called out, unamused. “This is getting sappy. I’m leaving.”
“How come you’re younger than me and you get to boss me around all the time?” Neteyam started once his brother was out of earshot.
“I’m Lo’ak’s age.”
“And I see him as a baby.”
You sighed, feeling around his head to find any injuries. Neteyam could tell you were distracted and that your thoughts were everywhere but here with him just from the look in your eyes. You’ve been welled up in your thoughts ever since your last visit to the tree of voices, and the change of mood that came with it was evident.
“You okay?” Neteyam finally decided to speak up, wincing when you pressed on a sore spot in his scalp.
“Hmm?”
“You’ve been like this for the past week,” he explained. “Distant.”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on. I know you better than that. Lo’ak thinks it has something to do with me and he won’t shut up about it.”
“I’m fine.” You applied the sap with just a bit too much pressure on his head and he grasped your hand in his, bringing it away from his head.
“I won’t tell him,” he started when you finally looked at him for the first time ever since Kiri left. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
Neteyam saw your hesitance and reached for the bowl in your other hand to set it down next to him. He lowered his voice, speaking gently as if he was afraid of hurting you. “What happened when we were in the tree of voices?”
“I don’t know. I saw my parents and when it stopped I just panicked and I don’t know why. This never happens. Then I started thinking about your family and how they don’t really consider me a part of their family made me wish I had something like that.” You didn’t even realize the tears were falling until you felt Neteyam wipe the ones that fell to your cheeks. He stood and put an arm around you to bring you into an embrace, allowing you to bury your face in his shoulder.
Every welled up thought and feeling from the past week you’ve tried to shove as deep in the back of your head as possible suddenly resurfaced all over again. Maybe you were too scared to admit it, but Neteyam’s comfort was what you’ve been needing.
“You’re as much of the family as I am,” he softly assured whilst pulling away, tilting your chin upwards with a finger to look at him. “It might not look like it, but we all care. Even mom and dad.”
And then Neteyam did something stupid.
He leaned in to press his lips against yours, his grip around you tightening to pull you closer. You could taste the salt from your own tears as you responded with the same amount of intensity, all the built-up emotions finally pouring out into the kiss.
Your hands reached out to wrap around his neck when you felt his tail brush against your leg, the slow loving movements indicating how blissed out he was.
You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed in that tent, but when you pulled away breathlessly, Neteyam did the same with visible effort.
“How am I going to tell Lo’ak?”
Neteyam breathed out a small laugh and closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against yours.
“I’m more worried about dad.” At his words, you parted from him anxiously. “Relax. You’re family. If anything, they’ll be more worried about you than me.”
He wasn’t wrong. Jake looked like he was having a panic attack when the two of you told him and Neytiri.
“You want to tell me how this happened?” He pointed between the two of you who looked like guilty kids that had gotten caught stealing. You both glanced at each other hesitantly as Jake grew impatient waiting for an explanation from either of you.
“Neteyam kissed me.” Your voice came out so quiet you weren’t sure whether you’d said it out loud or if you’d only said it in your head.
Jake and Neytiri looked purely out of it. They cast their son a look while he looked anywhere but at his parents.
“Neteyam,” Neytiri warned.
The Olo’eyktan made sure to make the list of rules clear for the both of you. No wandering off too far alone together and definitely no sleeping together, even just next to each other separately. Jake mentioned how he knew it wasn’t uncommon considering how you’ve been doing that since you were children, but now it was off limits. He also mentioned a whole set of other rules and how he would kill Neteyam if the boy laid a hand on you or hurt you in any way.
In a way, the protectiveness they held towards you made you feel welcomed and accepted. It made you feel as if you were actually part of the family. And even more so when they offered you to join them to pursue lands beyond the Omatikaya clan.
Since the only people you’ve stuck to since you were young were their kids, Jake and Neytiri knew you’d be devastated if you had to part with them, especially when you were now attached with their eldest son.
There was no dismissing their offer from your side either. You weren’t going to leave the only people who truly knew you, and you weren’t going to leave Neteyam. Though you had to admit, you missed the forest just as much as everybody else.
“What’s that?” asked the youngest Sully as she peeked over your shoulder to get a closer look at what you were holding.
“A bracelet I’m making for you.” Her face brightened even more.
“It’s pretty!”
“It needs more shells. I’ll fetch some more outside and woah-“ your eyes widened when Neteyam and Lo’ak entered, all bruised and bloody. “What now?”
“Got into a fight with Tsireya’s brothers. They were picking on Kiri. Hey Tuk,” Lo’ak said, ruffling his sister’s hair.
“You too?” You looked at the older brother.
“What? Was I supposed to stand there and watch him get beaten up?”
“I could’ve handled them on my own.”
Neteyam snorted. “No, you’d be with Eywa if it wasn’t for me.”
Lo’ak grumbled his way to Tuk, who looked like she had so many questions for him. He picked up the bracelet you made and twirled it in his hands, earning an angry protest from his sister who snatched it away from his hands.
You were about to leave to go shell-hunting when a thought passed through your head after seeing blood on Neteyam’s lips.
It looked like it hadn't dried up, so you acted on impulse when you approached him and brought your hand to his jaw to pull him into a gentle kiss, making sure to lick his bottom lip where the blood was.
The kiss took Neteyam by surprise, and once he was about to respond, you pulled away, leaving him puzzled.
“You got blood on your lips,” you whispered, tracing your fingers along his jaw before reluctantly letting go.
“Gross, you two. Poor Tuk’tirey’s tainted.” You barely heard Lo’ak’s words as you walked away from them.
The rest of your days were filled with the same routine. You’d learn a thing or two from the Tsireya and then Lo’ak would stir up trouble with her brother and his friends. How they had managed to get along after some time was a miracle.
Everyday was filled with new discoveries of their waters. Tuk would ask to see something new almost every hour, and being the favorite, you’d accompany her almost every time. If you weren’t with Tuk, you’d be sitting somewhere with Kiri. If you weren’t with Kiri, you’d be exploring the waters with Lo’ak, and if you weren’t with Lo’ak, you’d be discovering new places on land with Neteyam.
Today, you were with Lo’ak, and you hadn’t expected that warning his Tulkun friend would turn into something much much worse. You weren’t even sure how it came to this point.
You were escaping the sky people when Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk were taken. It was one thing after the other and the next thing you know, you were trying to keep your composure as you watched Neteyam writhe in pain from a bullet wound in his chest, your palm caressing his jaw to let him know you were here.
It’s okay. He’s going to be okay.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Jake voiced your thoughts.
“I want to go home.”
No. It’ll take more than a bullet to kill you.
“I know, I know. We’re going home.”
No. No.
You felt your heart breaking followed by a tear with every sob and pained sound that came out of his mouth.
“It’s okay,” you quietly assured him as your thumb gently stroked his cheek, the first word you’ve spoken coming off as a whisper.
Neteyam glanced your way one last time at your voice before the pain in his eyes turned lifeless and his convulsing body went still.
“No. No, no-“ Neytiri begged and it felt like the air was sucked out of you. “Neteyam!”
You couldn’t even hear your own scream over the ringing of your ears. Everything happened all too fast.
“Neteyam,” you sobbed, cradling his head close.
You can’t leave me. Come back.
:)
3K notes · View notes
samkerrworshipper · 4 months
Text
acl’s | sam kerr x reader
this is me trying to work through my devastation but it’s 3am, i’m crying and writing this on my phone. :( it’s a blurb btw
Tumblr media Tumblr media
you have to admit the timing of the call should be a little bit of a shock.
it doesn’t cross your mind when your girlfriends contact pops up on your phone, but in hindsight it probably should.
it’s not odd for sam to call you multiple times a day when she’s away on camp, if she has a spare minute here or there, so you are delighted when you see her face pop up on your screen.
you press the green button almost immediately, pulling your phone up to rest at your ear.
“Hiya chook, how’s the weather treating you?”
When you don’t get an immediate response you become a little bit worried, but nothing abnormal.
“Y/n? It’s Emma here.”
It’s when the voice of your fiancés coach hits your ears that you are immediately worried.
“Emma, what can I do for you?”
You’ve talked to Emma hundreds of times, but you can tell from her voice that this is different.
“Look, Sam’s just come off the pitch after a little incident, it’s looking like she’s done her ACL.”
Your gut wrenches, and it takes all of your power to stop your lunch from pouring out across the dining table your sat at.
“What?”
Your head immediately begins to reel, 9 months. That’s the Olympics, Emma’s last season at Chelsea, so many things that Sam has over this year that are now done.
Your mind goes back to Sam’s previous ACL injury, how she’d talked about how it had been the hardest thing mentally and physically for her, that it was almost the end of her career.
“It’s not looking good, we’ll have to wait until she’s had scans to confirm the severity but both her and our doctors are fairly certain it’s her cruciate ligament.”
You take a deep breath, fuck.
“Okay, okay. Is she okay?”
It’s a stupid question, of course she isn’t okay, she’s done her fucking acl, but your concern goes further than her obvious injury.
“She’s in a lot of pain, and she’s pretty torn up. Millie has been keeping her company but all she wants to do is talk to you.”
You nod your head, you know you shouldn’t have to prepare yourself to talk to her but you take your time to take a deep breath, keep yourself strong for her.
“Can you put her on for me please, Emma?”
You hear some bustling around.
“Of course, she wanted me to call you to get the facts straight, but i’ll put her on now.”
You hear a little bit more bustling before complete silence, and that seems to be your queue.
“Sammy, honey?”
You hear a deep, laboured breath crackling from the other side of the phone.
“I’m here.”
Her words are strung out, you know that Sam will be trying her hardest to keep it together, she simply isn’t one to be publicly over emotional, no matter the situation.
“Hi honey.”
You know the best thing right now is to leave her to talk about her injury, you leave ghe ball in her court.
“My whole year is over.”
You hear her voice break, and you know that she’s crying even though you can’t hear any sobs or evidence of tears.
“I’m right here chook, so are all the girls, whatever you need.”
When you hear a sob, it takes everything you have to not start crying with her.
“Need to see you, need you here.”
Sam’s not a needy person, so to hear her asking for something like this is concerning to you.
“How about I turn on facetime chook, will that make you feel a bit better?”
When you hear a little murmur of a ‘yes’ you click the button, waiting for it to connect once she accepts the request.
It’s a matter of seconds before you are met with the visual of Sam, her head resting on Millie's shoulder on a physio bed, tears cascading freely down her olive skin.
“Oh Sammy honey.”
She only begins to cry more, and you are fairly certain once this call ends you’ll be rushing straight to the bathroom to expel all of the bile that’s built up in your throat.
“I’m supposed to be captain, I need to be okay, I need to play the olympics, I couldn’t play the fucking world cup. This could be my last major tournament.”
You want to tell her that she’s being ridiculous, but it would achieve nothing, Sam needs to feel validated in her feelings right now, not like you and the whole world are against her.
“Sam this isn’t your fault, you couldn’t have avoided it, it was just a stupid freak accident, unfortunately it happens in the sport you play.”
Sam looks so broken, Millie’s matching her energy, the normally energetic blonde looking very sullen.
“What if this is it for me?”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes, it’s a stupid statement but a very real feeling that Sam has.
“Sam, how about I come to Morocco? I’ll catch the next flight out, and i’ll come and be there for you, is that something you want?”
You don’t want to step over her boundaries, but just the look on her face tells you that she needs to be comforted, she needs to cry and whilst her teammates are great, Sam is never going to be that vulnerable in front of them.
“You don’t have to.”
Her own statement contradicts every single feeling you can see inside her.
“I want to.”
Sam’s tears only begin to fall heavier.
“Please, I need you.”
390 notes · View notes
kagscore · 3 months
Text
𝜗𝜚 playing games with the boys
feat. isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, itoshi rin note. this is self indulgent because i wanna play league with nagi i fear ૮꒰⸝⸝> <⸝⸝꒱ა i hope you enjoy ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶
Tumblr media
⊹˚. ᡣ𐭩.𖥔 ݁ ˖ playing rocket league with 𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐘𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈 looks like . . .
the two of you sitting in his bedroom, you curled up in his lap as you hold the controller. he holds your hands with his, moving the controller and pressing the buttons for you so you can get a grasp of the movements you need to know. slowly but surely, he lets you take full control and quietly cheers for you as you score goals and block them in his favorite game—car soccer. he's almost brimming with excitement at the idea of teaching you all sorts of tricks—flip resets, [insert other terminology]—anything so that eventually the two of you can play duos together and dominate the game. shows you how to decorate your car, the types of cars you can get and laughing when you ask if you could just drive a vw beetle instead. gets himself a second remote to play on his xbox when he thinks you’re finally starting to get the game and trying to cheer you up when you lose your first game duo’d together.
“you sure you wanna keep playing? i know it isn’t the easiest thing in the world…” “i think it’s so cute you wanna get good at this game baby, of course we can play when you come over again.”
Tumblr media
⊹˚. ᡣ𐭩.𖥔 ݁ ˖ playing league of legends with 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 looks like . . .
nagi absolutely tossing you in headfirst into aram, knowing that you won’t get kills or assists and will die a lot but absolutely sweating his balls off so that he can still carry you to a win. you ask a lot of questions about who you’re playing, who you’re playing against, your abilities and ultimates and just generally what to do and him answering every single question you ask with patience and a soft explanation. sometimes you do questionable things in game, but he just laughs and says it’s okay. congratulates when you finally figure out who you want to main, celebrates when you get your first kill, and even buys you that skin you want as a gift for taking the time to play a game with him and spend time with him. always rerolls his character in aram, trying to find someone you like and getting a bit teary eyed when you recognize his favorite character to play once.
“it’s your favorite character, babe, swap me for them.” “i know you’re new, but please stop dying to tower. i’ll even take us out for dinner, i’m begging.”
Tumblr media
⊹˚. ᡣ𐭩.𖥔 ݁ ˖ playing valorant with 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍 looks like . . .
rin trying his hardest every game you play together to be the top frag to impress you subtly, and him avenging you every time you die because how could he let his person die without killing the person that killed you? drops you his gun skins and even switches them when you guys wait in queue to skins you prefer—if he doesn’t have the skin you like, he always gives it to you when he finds and kills the person with it in a game. goes into deathmatches to one v. one you to try and help you learn the mechanics of the game and the shooting. if anyone is rude to you in a game, he’s immediately cursing and hexing their family and generational lineage in his head/in chat. he doesn’t like talking in game, but will if it means defending you against everyone else being mean because you’re bottom fragging. buys you your first skin after you get your first kill and periodically logging into your account to buy you more and surprise you sometimes.
“you should try a duelist if you want to get more kills, my love.” “now we just need to get you an ace, and we can do something special.”
Tumblr media
377 notes · View notes
glitterjay · 7 months
Text
ー picnic date
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
minors dni
jake x fem!reader
warnings public sex, pet names, fingering (reader receiving)
for @magyuhye <3
Tumblr media
you were in your room, looking at your self in the full sized mirror in front of you. your boyfriend jaeyun had proposed a picnic date, and asked you to wear the prettiest dress you could find in your closet. you stood there admiring the flower pattern that went perfectly with the nice weather, and how it revealed just enough skin.
without thinking too much, you got yourself a nice water bottle downstairs, and waited for your boyfriend to arrive. soon enough, you heard keys jingling right outside your door. you boyfriend revealed himself as soon as the door opened, showing you that peculiar smile that accompanied him all the time. “you ready?”
on the way to the park, jake kept repeating just how amazing you looked, and how you were all his. the compliments never failed to make you feel extremely pretty, and also make your heat throb. your hand rested in the gear stick with his hand right on top. you loved that no matter what, jaeyun always kept contact.
~
you guys arrived at the beautiful park and settled down. the colors of the wonderful green grass and the tall trees went perfectly with the colors of your dress. jake sat himself right next to you, hand on your thighs at all times. you both giggled at random things, and admired the view before you.
as you watched some kids the birds eating a few feet away from where you were sitting, you felt something move under your dress. you looked down and realized your boyfriend’s hand was moving dangerously close to your heat, which was not a good sign considering you missed him. a lot.
“whats wrong, love?” jake asked, knowing exactly what he was doing. you simply shook your head, afraid your voice would betray you and crack if you spoke. he smiled at your actions, moving his hand in a blunt movement, making contact with your core. you couldn’t help but squirm a little, putting a hand over your mouth to stop any noise from being too loud.
this gave jaeyun the queue to slide your underwear to the side, caressing your folds with his finger. he covered your legs with another blanket he had brought in advance, this being his plan all along. “your legs must be cold, am i right? the breeze is a little chilly today” he pushed just the tip of his slender finger into you, teasing. he leaned in, nibbling your earlobe before speaking again “you look so pretty when you’re embarrassed”
you could feel your face turn even redder than it already was. you held onto his shoulder, hiding your face there. “j-jaeyun, don’t do this to me”. he giggled at your words, carefully inserting his full digit slowly into you. this made you bite his shoulder in response, scared of being way too loud and getting caught. “careful there, darling.”
he continued moving his finger, picking up the pace with every thrust. your entire world felt dizzy. you didnt know if the birds in your field of vision were real or part of your imagination. jake cooed at your fucked out expression. he decided to be a little bold, and with a smooth movement, he was hovering over you. with this new position, he was more free, and so, he added another finger.
you bit your lip, reminding yourself that you’re still in a public place. to some people, it might’ve looked like you both were playing. little did they know you were about to come undone right there and then.
“can- can’t hold it anymore”
your boyfriend smiled big, knowing damn well he was the one doing all of that. he wanted to take the blanket off of you, he wanted you to cry and scream his name at the fop of your lungs, he wanted everyone to know HE was the cause of such pleasure, but he held himself.
“go ahead, love. cum for me”
the pet name was enough to throw you over the edge, hand flying to your mouth to muffle your moans and cries. body left shaking at the adrenaline, embarrassment, and pleasure you felt at the same time. he left a kiss on your forehead, sitting straight on your side again, leaving you laying on your back. “fuck baby, we might have to go home soon and deal with this other problem.”
Tumblr media
© glitterjay | tumblr
hello! one of two things here. first of all, i know today is october 2nd. i missed the first day, so i will be posting twice today. second, i suck at writing long scenarios so i apologize for that. if yall do like it tho, feel free to request more scenarios for other enha members (besides ni-ki and sunoo) in my ask! help this poor soul, i won’t be able to come up with things all on my own for the whole month
587 notes · View notes
dreamescapeswriting · 8 months
Text
Stray Kids Reaction || "What's Your Type?"
Tumblr media Tumblr media
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2023
⤜MASTERLIST
a/n: i did try and make these as different as possible, im sorry they’re so short
CHAN: 
The Vlive was going well, so far you'd managed to be completely silent on the other side of the room while Chan spoke to the camera doing his weekly Chan's room video. He was in the middle of reading  questions and answering them when he suddenly stuttered over one,
"What's your ideal type?" A blush instantly began to climb its way onto your boyfriend's cheeks and you smirked looking up from your book waiting for him to respond. But instead, he was stammering and stuttering over his words as he glanced in your direction, too scared to say the wrong thing to you or to stay.
"I think...I think that's a question for another day." He laughed awkwardly as he scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes trying to move on from the question. You grabbed your phone and began to scroll through the comments of the live feed, smirking as you saw Stay's beginning to tease him and you knew you were going to have fun teasing him for it later.
MINHO: 
The boys were doing a small live feed together while they waited for a storm to pass, Seungmin, Minho and Jeongin were all sitting on a bed as they scrolled through different questions from STAY. You on the other hand were sitting on the opposite bed watching them with an amused smile on your face.
"One for Minho," Seungmin said as he stopped scrolling so he could read the comment out loud,
"What's your ideal type of person to date?" Instantly the boys stared at him and as did you, waiting patiently for him to say something but he seemed to freeze in place. Your relationship was hidden but you were well known within the idol world so he couldn't exactly describe you or they would all know about you. Or there would at least be rumour which no one needed right now.
"It's a secret," Minho smirks looking at you and then back at the boys who began to list their ideal types instead, distracting STAY from the fact that Minho wasn't telling them his.
CHANGBIN:
As soon as the question was asked your boyfriend was like a completely different person, his muscles tightened and he was staring down at the comments pretending to read them. You were staring over at him, one eyebrow raised as you waited for him to say something, anything but he continued to pretend as though he hadn't heard the question. Chan chuckled from beside him as he shook his head,
"I think someone is a little shy," Chan teased as Changbin began to blush a bright red, your eyes finding his as you gave him a small wink. Clearly he didn't want to answer it in case he said something wrong or out of place, and he knew it was safer to be quiet.
HYUNJIN: 
It was meant to be a nice calm painting Vlive but it was starting to turn into a Q&A while Hyunjin attempted to colour. The boys taking it in turns to ask him things while he mindlessly answered them all,
"What's your ideal type of partner?" The paintbrush in Hyunjin's hand stopped and he stared straight ahead at you, you were already staring at him daring him to answer the question. Stutters began to fall from his lips and he sat up straight a little too quickly, the glass of water he was using to clean his brushes spilling all over the place making the boys laugh. 
"I guess that's our queue to go." Jeongin laughed as they ended the vlive and watched as Hyunjin rushed around trying to clean up.
JISUNG: 
Your relationship wasn't known to anyone around you, it had to be kept a secret since Jisung technically wasn't allowed to date anyone and so everything was hushed up. Rumours had spread a few months ago though since you and Jisung were such close "friends" and since then people had been trying to get to the bottom of it all,
"Here's one for Jisung," The MC said into the camera as they read off the card in their hand,
"What would be your ideal type in your future or current partner?" All eyes were on Jisung as he looked at the camera, a nervous tick beginning to show as he played with the sleeves of his shirt and bit his lip.
"I think we should skip this one," He laughed a little and shook his head but everyone in the live audience and the MC began to chant for him to answer. His eyes glanced to the side of the stage where he saw you, smirking at him and waiting for him to put his foot in his mouth.
FELIX:
You knew what was about to happen, the boys had told you that they were planning on teasing Felix throughout the live to get back at him for not baking them brownies at the weekend. So you did your best to hide the smirk that was on your face as Changbin turned to look at Felix,
"What's your ideal type?" The question sent STAY crazy in the chat and the boys were all doing their best not to smirk at Felix who suddenly seemed like an NPC that was stuck. He simply didn't move, nor blink as he thought about it. If he didn't answer he was going to be questioned more and more but then if he answered and he got something wrong you were going to be upset with him. But you were his ideal type, you were everything he could ever want in a partner, the only issue with that was.
He couldn't tell anyone that because the two of you weren't even allowed to date thanks to his contract.
"My ideal type is a secret, I know what I would love them to be and one day I will see them," He shrugged, trying to play it cool as the boys all hounded him for more details.
SEUNGMIN:
It was supposed to be a harmless prank that you and Felix were playing on Seungmin but it seemed to have left your boyfriend a little starstruck on what to say or do.
"Seungmin?" You questioned as soon as the live feed ended, your heart was racing as you stared at him, he seemed completely shocked about what to do.
"It was just a question," Felix smirked, patting Seungmin on the back who was now staring at you, his lip trembling a little.
"You know you're my type right, that it's always you and will only ever always be you." He sounded panicked so you took his hands into yours and nodded,
"Of course baby, I know." You told him as he smiled weakly, kissing you deeply as you held onto one another.
JEONGIN:d
Everyone stared at Jeongin completely dumbfounded, someone had read out the question "what's your type" and instead of being tight-lipped, Jeongin had opened up the floodgates. It was as if he'd forgotten he was an ideal for a second and he began to list everything that was his type and as the list went on you realised it was all about you. 
Not even ABOUT you. But it WAS you and you were left staring at him with widened eyes when he'd finished and he was blushing a bright red colour. It was obvious he'd forgotten about the camera for a few minutes and now the boys were trying to smoothly recover from the accident. Meanwhile, the butterflies in your stomach were unable to be controlled and you couldn't wait to hold onto your boyfriend.
Tagline: @chiisaiblog @hanasonmi @sw33tnight @taestannie @acciocriativity @scarletemeterio @halesandy @aerastus @laylasbunbunny @critssq @lenfilms @btsiguess-kpop @meowmeowisdaname @imafivestarkpopstan @lost-leopard-beanie @djeniryuu @backintomykpopphaseagain @choisoorin
818 notes · View notes
turcott3 · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
homesick
trevor zegras and platonic jamie drysdale x fem! reader
warnings?: sad af tbh!, angst, cursing but ofc fluff
masterlist
-
“what?” you spoke into the phone.
“he picked up the phone and they told him he was going to philly in the morning. no warning or anything. completely blindsided.” trevor explains to you.
“i cannot believe that, is he okay?” you ask.
“he’s shocked, we all are.”
“i bet. i’m so sorry trevor.” you say trying to comfort your boyfriend.
“it’s okay, i just wish it wasn’t so sudden.”
“well, tell jamie i wish him the best and that ill miss making breakfast with him every morning.”
“you can call him, that feels too personal don’t wanna invade.” he forces a laugh.
“okay ill call him tomorrow. get back to your friends babe, try to have a good night okay?”
“okay i will, love you y/n.”
“love you trev, bye.”
“bye.” he hangs up. you sat staring off into space. your mind spinning uncontrollably. they just shipped off your boyfriends best friend. scratch that, your best friend, besides trevor of course. you turn on the tv to whatever was on distracting yourself from the thoughts invading your mind, clouding the good day you had. finally, you allow yourself to cry, knowing your last goodbye to jamie was truly your last and that he wouldn’t be returning.
“what the fuck.” you say crying more, wishing someone was around you could talk to. you say for hours lost in your thoughts, watching tv without paying any attention. at this point it was late enough so you took yourself to bed, heart heavy at the thought of having to call jamie in the morning. though falling asleep was easy, waking up was the worst feeling in the world. you picked up your phone quickly, scrolling through your contacts to find jamie’s name, hitting call. the phone only rang twice before he picked up.
“hello?” he says, voice sounding weak.
“hey jimmy, how are you feeling?”
“i’m okay, i’m in philly now. i’m getting ready to head to the rink. i’m a little nervous but i talked to cam and he reassured me.”
“good i’m glad, im gonna miss you so much jamie.”
“i miss you too y/n, gonna miss our early morning breakfast making.” he laughs softly, a bittersweet smile spreading on my face.
“yeah, yeah ill really miss that too. singing ‘unwritten’ will never be the same without you.”
“damn you’re right, listening to that song will never hit like it did when we were making pancakes every morning.”
“i’m gonna miss that so much, well i don’t wanna keep you for too long. call me if you need anything okay? i know this is gonna be tough.”
“i will, thank you y/n.”
“of course, bye jamie.”
“bye.” he says before hanging up. your heart sank at his tone but could sense his hopefullness that they wouldn’t give up on him like anaheim had.
-
you say on the couch, watching trevor play with a heavy heart. you could practically smell it through the tv. you’d spoken to him briefly but he avoided the topic of jamie, it was still a touchy subject for him. next thing you know, trevor falls, hitting the boards awkwardly.
“fuck.” you say, watching him unable to get up without assistance, your heart breaking all over again. the trainer escorted him to the locker room, the pit in your stomach growing larger.
“please be okay, please be okay.” you say sighing.
“trevor zegras will not return to tonight’s game.” you hear the commentators say, you sigh shutting your eyes, waiting for the phone to ring and almost on queue it begins.
“y/n?”
“trevor are you okay? what’s going on?”
“i don’t know i just fell and i did something and then i couldn’t skate off the ice and i-“
“trevor stop, slow down. take a breath honey. you’re gonna make yourself sick.” you say stopping him.
“i don’t know what to do y/n.”
“do you want me to come to nashville?”
“no no you don’t need to, i think i may just come back to anaheim if i can’t play next game.”
“call me as soon as you know.” you say biting your nails.
“i promise i will, ill call you once they evaluate me.”
“okay, love you trevor.”
“love you too, bye.” he says and you hang up, slamming your phone down on the couch tears instantly spilling from your eyes, your hands instantly covering your face.
“i can’t fucking do this.” you cry, trying to catch your breath as your phone begins to ring, jamie’s name coming into the screen.
“hello?” you say weakly.
“i saw what happened and i wanted to check up on you. how you holding up?”
“i’m a fucking mess jamie.” you say sobbing.
“oh y/n, i’m so sorry. i wish i could be there with you.” he says apologetically.
“it’s okay, everything’s gonna be okay.” you say out loud to yourself.
“do you have any updates?” he asks.
“no he said he would call me after he gets evaluated.” you say sniffling.
“okay, do you want me to stay on the phone until then? i can facetime you, that’s better than nothing.”
“yes, please do.” you say and he presses the facetime button, you picking up immediately.
“sorry i look awful right now,” you say wiping your nose.
“hey no, don’t worry. you’re going through a lot right now.”
you stayed on the phone with jamie for the next two hours, appreciating him spending time on the phone with you instead of getting to know his new city.
“jamie i gotta go. z is calling, i’ll text you with updates.”
“okay, goodnight y/n.”
“goodnight jamie.” you say hanging up and picking up trevor’s call.
“so?” you ask.
“can you pick me up from the airport in the morning?” he asks, your heart sinking into your stomach.
“yes i can.”
“thank you baby, i’m so sorry about all of this.”
“it’s okay. are you okay?”
“i’m not playing, won’t know what’s wrong until i come home and go see team doc.”
“okay okay, what time?” you ask.
“7 am, cali time.”
“jesus thats in,” you look at the time, “11 hours.”
“i’m sorry for the short notice, i didn’t think this would happen.”
“it’s okay no worries at all okay? i’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“okay, i love you.” he says
“i love you too, bye trevor.” you say hanging up. texting jamie about picking him up in the morning. with the early wake up time, you take yourself to bed and crash instantly. the sadness had exhausted you. it seems like just as you went to sleep your alarm was already going off. you groaned at the sound, sliding your shoes on and heading out the door without caring for your appearance. feeling selfish for being this down when it’s not even happening to you. your drive to the airport was smooth, trevor texting you that he’d landed a few minutes ago as you pull into the airport arrival lane, him waiting patiently with his foot in a boot. you stop and get out of the car to hug him, crying instantly.
“hey hey i’m here now, let’s go home okay?” he says holding you tightly. you put his things in the car and drive off, back to your apartment. the car ride was completely silent as you gathered your composure. once you arrive you help him bring his stuff in and help him into bed.
“did you sleep?” you ask laying down next to him.
“no.” he says looking over at you, looking beat down.
“get some sleep baby.” you say pulling yourself to his side, combing your fingers through his hair.
“i can’t sleep y/n,” he said, his voice breaking, “god damnit.” he says breaking down in tears, your hands catching his face as he looked down.
“talk to me trevor, get it out.”
“well for starters, it was my 200th game and i didn’t even make it through the first period and my best friend got traded across the country all within 24 hours. life couldn’t possibly get any worse. this is the lowest i have ever felt.” he explained, getting everything off his chest.
“i know it’s hard honey, i’ve cried about 50 times in the last 24 hours. my heart is broken for you. all i can do is be here for you and listen and i feel like that’s still not even enough.”
“it is enough, it’s just a tough time right now. for both of us it seems.” he giggles, placing a hand around my waist.
“well i love you, i’m here for you baby. don’t hold back anything you’re feeling, not until you’re better. it sucks that jamie is gone but we still have each other! i know that’s not like the greatest but it’s something.”
“you know, you are the best girlfriend ever.” he smiles weakly, pulling you onto his lap and wiping the few tears that left your eyes.
“i just feel terrible about all of this.” you say to him.
“there’s nothing you could’ve done, it’s okay.” he says hugging you to his chest.
“this was not on my 2024 bingo card.” you sniffled, laughing lightly.
“it wasn’t on mine either but here we are.” he says hugging onto me tightly. you stayed on his chest until you felt yourself grow tired, eyes getting heavier by the second. not a word was said as you drifted off to sleep. trevor stayed awake, holding onto you as it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
“i love you more than you’ll ever know.” he whispers into your hair, kissing your head sweetly as his hands rubbed your back gently.
-
when you woke up and rolled off of the boy who was fast asleep, trying not to wake him up. you grabbed your phone off the charger and walked into the kitchen, opening your phone to a missed call from jamie about 20 minutes ago. you click on the notification to call him back and he picks up instantly.
“hello?” he says.
“yes jamie hi, what’s up?”
“do you have a minute?”
“yeah i just got up, are you okay?”
“yeah i think it’s all starting to process now and i’m so emotional. like i just up and left my home with my two best friends. how can i just live like this so suddenly? i made breakfast and it wasn’t even good.” he explains, his voice wavering.
“oh jamie,” you say, “it’s gonna be okay. i promise it will be. they love you.”
“i’m sure ill get used to it soon it’s just such an unexpected change, i don’t know what i’m doing.” he says sending you through all of your emotions at once.
“i understand, even though we aren’t physically there we are always here for you jam. we love you so so much.”
“i love you guys too.”
“i’m also about to make breakfast for the first time without you, i don’t really know how to feel.” you laugh realizing what you had walked into the kitchen to do.
“well i’ll let you go so you can perfect your pancakes as always. bye y/n.”
“bye jam.” you say hanging up the phone and bringing out all the ingredients. you do your typical routine, humming ‘unwritten’, your favorite song. suddenly a wall of emotions hit you and tears begin to fall without warning.
“our breakfast song.” you say to yourself, recalling that you and jamie had sang this together every morning.
“smells good.” trevor says walking out of the room, your back fortunately facing away from him.
“thank you.” you force out, sounding mostly normal.
“pancakes?” he asks.
“yep.” you reply flipping the last one. you plate it and turn around, revealing your red and puffy face to your boyfriend.
“woah,” he says getting up off the bar stool and rounding the counter, “what’s going on?”
“trevor im so tired.” you cry and he wraps you in his arms.
“i know i know.” he says holding you tightly.
“i feel so empty, ive been here for you, for jamie, for everyone and no one has sat and listened to me. im so tired.” you cry even more into his chest.
“i didn’t know you felt that way, im so sorry if you felt like you couldn’t talk to me baby.”
“it’s okay, it’s a rough time for you i didn’t wanna push too hard but i can’t say i wasn’t upset.”
“don’t dismiss your own feelings just because i’m going through something. we’re in this together.” he says pulling away slightly, brushing strands of hair from your face.
“okay.” you say, your sobs finally subsiding.
“i love you.” he says kissing your gently on the forehead.
“i love you too trev.” you say smiling at the gesture, wrapping yourself back in his embrace.
-
235 notes · View notes
peterparkersnose · 1 year
Text
Give In
pairing: Joel Miller x reader
word count: 2.3k
warnings: suicidal thoughts, pining possibly one sided, ANGST (just a large angst piece, i wanted some joel angst so I made it), description of depression, emotional dependency on a person, arguing, fluff sprinkled in, implied age gap not specified, reference to pregnancy, mentions of substance and alcohol abuse, joel is lowkey toxic and uses reader
a/n hi loves I wrote this after the first episode aired, so if anything contradicts anything in the future in this story that is why. also, i didnt know how to end it so im sorry if the ending is a bit choppy. happy last of us sunday!
summary Y/N has feelings for Joel that she can’t control anymore
Part 2 here
masterlist
join the tag list
read time: 8 min 33 seconds
Tumblr media
The harsh chill of the autumn afternoon swept your hair off your shoulders. The ration line was as long as ever, but seemed to be moving quickly. A stray dog barked as others murmured on the street. Staring down at your boots, you bit at your chapped lips.
“You’ve been avoiding me,”
His voice sent chills up your spine. He was behind you, must have slipped in line without the other person noticing. Of course now was the time he decided to confront you. And he wasn’t wrong.
Straightening your back, you turn towards him.
“Have I?” you asked, raising your eyebrows slightly. The line moved forward and so did you.
“Tess said you weren’t feeling well.”
She was partially right. It was the blatant lie you were telling the very few who were close to you. You were physically fine.
“I’m fine, Joel.” you said promptly, turning a cold shoulder to the older man.
“If you need any meds or anything…” he began. You knew Joel had anything you needed. Quite literally.
“Next!” The FEDRA soldier called, motioning for you to get in the final line. You gave Joel a tight lipped smile before disappearing in the crowd.
Back at your sad excuse for an apartment, you poked your fork at your stale meal. You tried to think about todays’s job but the thought of Joel Miller consumed you.
How his hands felt on your skin, how soft his hair could be, how much he respected you in private. Flashbacks of previous nights where he had snuck over and stayed with you burned in your brain.
You never thought the hookup would turn in to feelings. Especially in this world. Feelings you were sure he wouldn’t reciprocate. Joel wasn’t a very emotionally available man. And he had Tess- rumors of them being together had been going on for years. Sure, they deny it. But you see the way he looks at her sometimes. His eyes burn with the lust you want from him, but there staring at her.
Tess was friendly and all, you got along quite well with her in fact. Jobs worked with Tess usually went better than others. But the knowledge that she goes home to him every night almost ate you alive. You felt used every time you would watch her turn the alleyway to their apartment.
Roommates my ass.
It had been over a month since the last time you saw Joel.
He was right, you were avoiding him. Taking the jobs you knew he wouldn’t dare go by such as childcare. Taking a different route home to avoid any run ins. Leaving your lights off and sitting in the dark to possibly deter him away from your place. All your little queues worked.
And the pain grew day by day.
You layed in your mattress with your face buried in your pillow. It stopped smelling like him weeks ago, but you liked to pretend it still did.
You couldn’t live like this anymore.
Pills weren’t numbing enough. Alcohol wasn’t as fun as it used to be. The constant state of depression in this damned district was enough to make you want to end it.
But seeing him across the alleyway talking to a group of people or in the line for rations was enough to keep that tiny spark lit inside of you.
There wasn’t much else to look forward to in this world besides others. Living the same day your whole life is miserable without your spark of joy in it.
Sleep was close, you could feel it. Your thin blankets were just cutting it for the night. As the dreams began to dance in your head, you were awoken by a quiet knock on your door.
“For fucks sake,” you groaned, flipping over in bed. You ignored the knocks. They became more persistent.
The old doorknob then dropped to the floor, startling you awake. You didn’t even have to guess who it was. The door slowly creaked open as you heard him curse to himself.
“I’ll fix it later,” he sighed, picking it off your floor and placing it on your countertop. He pushed one of your folding chairs next to your table up against the door to keep it sturdy.
“So your just breaking into apartments now?” you snapped, sitting up right in bed. “I needed to see you.” he protested.
“I never knew Joel Miller to need anything.”
He sighed and rested against your countertop. “I need to know,”
“Know what?” you asked, wrapping a blanket around your exposed shoulders. A tank top wasn’t ideal to sleep in, in these conditions.
“What’s wrong.” he said bluntly. “I said there’s nothing wrong. What the hell are you doing walking around freely at night?” you yelled, realizing the time was way past midnight. The sounds of soldiers a few floors down outside your apartment began to yell. How did he move past them?
“You sick?” he asked in a more hushed tone, walking towards you. “Respiratory? Head pain? Joints? You pregnant?” he somewhat joked, looking over you in bed.
“Shut up.” you said coldly. “Can you please just go?”
You knew Joel wasn’t a good listener. “What is it?” he said sternly, sitting down next to your body in bed. He grabbed your wrist ever so slightly. Your pulse was shaking in his grasp.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
You looked at the other side of your apartment, out the window. Rain had began to slowly plague the window. Ignoring Joel’s touch, you watched as the few drops raced to the bottom of the window.
“After everything I’ve done for you?” Joel sighed, not letting go of you.
“Stop, please. J-just stop talking to me.” you said, lying through your teeth. He could sense the pain hiding behind those eyes. “I’m not leaving.” he protested.
“Look at me.”
You turned to face him. His eyes were locked on yours. A genuine worried look was on his face. He looked softer, nothing like you had ever seen before.
It was almost as if someone asked you if you were okay when you were very obviously not. Silent tears rolled down your face as you tried to catch your breathe.
The man who you couldn’t love was staring in to your soul. There was no way you ever could love him. He was too mean, too stern, too old, too angry for you. The two of you were polar opposites. But as the saying goes, ‘opposites attract’.
Joel was unsure on what to do. Tess never cried. Hell, you never cried. He racked his brain for something, just something to soothe you.
He offered out a hand. Against your better judgement you took it. Connecting his other hand to your cheek, he tried to wipe away the streak of tears silently leaving your eyes. He held you tightly in your bed, stroking your hair as your head quickly made contact with the crook of his neck.
“I wish I didn’t have these feelings,” you cried into his embrace. Joel was confused on what you were getting at, but he ignored it. He tried to shush you in a soothing way.
“No, please. I wish I didn’t have these feelings… but I do.”
Joel froze. “What?” he asked, holding you in place.
You pulled back and looked at him. It felt like the first time over again. “Look at me and tell me you don’t feel a thing.” you hiccupped.
“I…” Joel sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and letting a breathe of air go.
“Say it.” you demanded.
The silence in the room was deafening.
“I can’t.” Joel said quickly. He looked down at his knees on your mattress.
“I think you should go.” you sighed, laying back on your side and facing the opposite wall.
He listened. Finally, Joel caught a hint. The sound of him walking away made you long for him more than ever. But it was good. The feeling of him leaving, knowing you were right. Joel Miller wasn’t a man who could love. At least not anymore.
Your sudden pride stopped when you heard his boots thud against the floor. Then the all familiar zip of his jeans followed by the hit of him placing them on your wooden chair next to your bed.
He rested a hand on your thigh as he peeled up the blanket that was stuck to your legs. Slowly, he moved down next to you in the tiny space you were leaving him.
“You don’t listen.” you huffed, still not giving him enough space on the bed.
“When do I ever?” he chuckled, wrapping his arm around your waist.
Fuck it. You gave in.
You allowed his arm to move closer to the underside of your breasts. Scooting over in bed, you gave him more space for his legs to entwine with you. His boxer’s material rubbed against the back of your thigh. It smelt like him; Wet grass and expired generic soap scent had never smelt better.
Sleep kindly greeted you once you felt his breathing slow. Trying to match his, you fell into the deep sleep you had been yearning for, for what seemed like weeks.
-
The absence in the morning was startling.
You struggled to move, hoping that the previous night was just a horrifying dream. A sigh escaped from your lips when you saw his boots sitting against the wall where he placed them last night.
The clanking sound of tools made you turn. On the other side of your small studio apartment, there he sat at your doorframe attempting to fix your door handle.
The overcast sky stayed, but you could tell it was early morning by the chatter outside.
“Shit!” Joel hissed, grabbing his finger in pain. “Damn fucking…”
He looked up and noticed you watching him.
“You alright?” you asked, watching him in amusement as he attempted to fix your door.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, sucking the tip of his finger. “Haven’t fixed a door in a good twenty years.” he muttered, wiping off the excess blood on his already dirtied jeans.
“Go back to bed, It’s still early.” he suggested, going through the tiny tool kit he had given you as a previous gift.
“This is more entertaining than sleep,” you chuckled, placing your feet on the cold ground and getting out of bed. “You want any breakfast? I don’t know if I have anything good here but…”
“Nah. Tess’l be expecting me.”
The sheer thought of Tess waiting at their home for him was enough to ruin the whole night you had before.
Joel looked up to you after your lack of a response. He noticed the demeanor change in your face. “Everything okay?” he asked, turning back to the doorknob he was almost finished fixing.
“You seem to go sour every time I mention Tess.”
“I wonder why,” you muttered under your breathe, attempting to open a tuna can for breakfast. You tried not to dry heave as the scent of the old fish met your nose. Tuna was never a favorite meal, especially for breakfast. But, it’s all you had.
Joel pretended like he didn’t hear you, but he heard you loud and clear. “We have a run to do today. You understand that, right?”
A bitter ‘mhm’ came from your lips as you shook the prepackaged coffee in your hand before ripping off the seal.
Joel sighed and placed the screw driver down dramatically. Joel’s knees cracked as he got up from his position. “You always gotta fucking act jealous. Don’t you? Ruinin’ a nice morning.”
“Jealous?” you said, raising your voice.
“What the hell do you even want from me?” you scorned, on the brink of tears. He could see through you like glass. You hated to admit it, but he knew you like the back of his hand.
Joel wished he could shout out the answer, but his ego kept it in.
You froze with your back turned to him and set down the brittle coffee mug. “Your always leaving me to go to her…”
“Because we’re business partners, Y/N. Don’t you get it? Don’t you hate livin’ the same damn day over and over again? It’s why I come to see you.”
“Stop,” you whispered, now face to face with him. “Stop yelling. Please, it’s too fucking early to get into that shit.”
“Really? Tell me you don’t loose your mind living the same day, same drama for years!” he yelled. “Always you being jealous. Don’t you ever get sick of it?”
Anger consumed you. Proof that the two of you would never work. He’s just a bitter old man.
“You know I would give anything to leave this damn QZ! To live a normal life, not fucking be here.” you yelled, with a finger now pointed at his face. You were avoiding the original accusation. Jealousy.
“Tell me.” you said, with a quieter but angrier tone. “Am I really just your fuck toy?”
Joel stepped back for a moment, stunned at what you just said. Guilt seemed to wrack his nerves as the realization hit him.
You were in love with him.
“Is that what you think?” he asked, approaching you with a sorrowful more soft look. “What else am I supposed to think? You come here, use me, and leave and go back to her.”
The feeling of letting go of all that emotion felt healing. The sudden aftermath of realizing what you just had accused him of made you feel somewhat guilty.
“No,” he sighed, grabbing your hand. “That- no. Absolutely not Y/N.”
His other hand reached for your chin, and brought your face up to his gaze. You could feel his heat on your skin.
“Understand…” he began to say. “Understand what?” you whispered back. A sly smile came to his lips.
“Give in,” he whispered, dropping your hand and wrapping his around your waist.
You melted into his grasp as he kissed you. Joel hadn’t kissed anyone in years. The hesitation from him only brought out the dominance in you.
As the two of you mutually pulled away, you wanted nothing more as to be back where you were just seconds ago.
“Understand that it’s hard.” he said, still holding you close. “I…”
“I know.” you said, cutting off his words.
You were an anxious, sorrowful over-thinker and he was the bitter, closed off introvert.
“I’ll be back,” he said, with a slighter more chipper tone. “Tonight. We have to get this damn car battery and…”
“Stay safe,”
“I promise.” Joel said. He really did not want to leave you. The thought of the two of you spending today lazily in bed was very tempting.
“But please believe me Y/N when I say, you are and never have been just a ‘fuck toy’.”
He squeezed your hand once more and then dropped it. Silence filled the apartment after he left.
The thought of how you tasted haunted Joel Miller’s mind the whole day.
Part 2
tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25
2K notes · View notes
depressedraisin · 3 months
Text
they make me wanna giggle and kick my feet
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
corinne bailey rae and miles kane // nothing's ever gonna be good enough official video (2021)
24 notes · View notes
North Star.
It's New Years Eve. Jake is tired of waiting.
Tumblr media
Pairing - Jake Seresin x female reader
Warnings - None
Word Count - 1638
Author's Note - Thank you so much for all the love on The Orange - I've been giggling and kicking my feet reading all of your comments and tags. I loved writing it, and I loved writing this one too. Please feel free to send me any requests, ideas, prompts, comments or questions - I'll always read them. If I could kiss you all, I would x
Masterlist. Requests.
Tumblr media
Multi colored lights adorn the beams of the ceiling. Metallic streamers hang from the bar. Music is blasting from the jukebox. The Hard Deck almost looks unrecognisable. 
It's New Years Eve, and The Squad have agreed to spend it together. Hangman, Coyote and Payback are at the dart board, allowing Jake to show off his talent. Bob, Rooster and Fanboy are convened by the pool table, taking turns to shoot, unbothered by who's meant to be sinking what. You and Natasha are standing by the bar, waiting for Penny to serve you when she gets the chance.
"So, come on, who are you kissing at midnight?" Natasha looks at you with a glint in her eye. Mischievous girl. 
"Yeah. Right. You, if you're not careful," you warn her, teasing lilt in your voice. Honestly, you don't think she'd be the worst choice in the world. 
"As much as I'd love that, I don't think the squad could handle it," she winks at you cheekily. "Seriously, who?" 
"I don't know!" you laugh. But that's a lie. You do know. At least, you know who you'd like to kiss. 
Jake Seresin. Hangman. America's Sweetheart. 
Pilot, Texan, Heartbreaker. 
Your friend, your teammate, the man you've been in love with since you met him that first day of basic training. 
The two of you were partnered for the first few exercises that day, and you beat every other pair by a mile. You both figured out pretty quickly that you make a damn good team. 
That hasn't changed. If ever you have to pair up for an exercise, a mission, or just a class, Jake's eyes find yours immediately. A silent question. Shall we? And your answer, always - of course. 
You seem to have your own language, this shared communication. You don't have to speak to know what the other person is saying. On the ground, or in the air, you know each other's next moves. Predictable, but comfortable. 
Maybe that's the problem. 
You believe strongly that women are more than capable of making the first move. You've thought about grabbing Jake and kissing him stupid more times than you can count. But you don't. Every time there's an opportunity, you brush past it, let it go. Because the comfort isn't worth sacrificing. At least, that's what you're telling yourself. 
Your friendship with Jake has been built on years of trust, empathy, and reliance. You know that no matter what, he'll have your back. He's demonstrated it more than once. Countless times. Showing up for you, without fail. When you were harassed by a man at the Hard Deck, Jake showed up. When you had a family member's funeral and didn't want to go alone, Jake showed up. When you broke your wrist and ended up in the hospital, Jake showed up. He was your North Star. Always there, always guiding. Always comforting. 
So you can't help but repeatedly ask yourself - why hasn't he made a move? You're convinced you know the answer to that question, though. Because you're friends. He sees you as a friend. A teammate. Which you wouldn't change for the world, not by any means. But it doesn't stop you from wishing that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't hold his cards so close to his chest. Just for a minute. 
The Devil Himself sidles over to the two of you, still at the bar, and throws an arm over each of you. Natasha manages to wiggle under and away from him, but you stay put. You don't mind. 
"Hey pretty ladies," he beams, "whatcha whispering about?" 
"It's kind of impossible to whisper when you keep queueing Duran Duran on the jukebox at full volume, Hangman," Natasha barks back. 
He laughs, a real, full bodied laugh that shakes both him and you, still with his arm slung over your shoulder. You laugh with him. It's impossible not to. His laugh is contagious, you think. Unavoidable. He laughs, you laugh. That's the way it's always been. 
It's at this moment that Bob pushes his way through the crowd, grabbing Natasha by the hand. 
"Phoenix, I need you. Fanboy doesn't believe you can do that pool trick you showed me last week. Come and prove him wrong!" 
She grins at you, and allows herself to be pulled into the swarms of people, on her way to earn some respect. 
You turn back to Jake at the bar, and see that he's ordered a beer, and your usual. Observant boy. 
You take a sip of your drink, only for a drop to miss your mouth entirely. Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe it's just his impatience, but Jake decides he's tired of waiting. He leans in to you, and slowly, deliberately, follows the journey of the drop with his tongue, from the bottom of your neck up to your jaw. He pulls back, and watches you with that gaze of his. Measured, careful. Adoring. Mischievous. Just so Jake. 
You feel the heat rise from your chest and up to your cheeks, but you don't break eye contact with him. It feels like a confession. You're baring your truth to him, silently, and he's understanding. That shared language. You're both saying so much, without saying anything at all. 
It's then that you realise where you are. The Hard Deck has somehow become even more crowded, and you keep being bumped left and right by people attempting to get to the bar. The music is too loud, the lights are too bright. You need a minute. As if he can read your mind, Jake speaks. 
"Let's get some air. It's hot in here." 
He grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers with his, and leads you out of the door, onto the deck outside. 
The cool night air hits you both, and you sigh with relief. You allow the breeze to flow through your hair, to ripple your dress, to cleanse you of your worry.
Jake's still holding your hand. Tighter, now. As if he's scared you'll blow away. Or run away, maybe. 
You lean into him slightly, and rest your head against his arm. He's warm, soft. He smells like Jake. Like love. Like home. 
"You okay?" he asks. Always so worried about you. Attentive boy. 
"I'm good. Just a little overwhelmed, I guess."
He starts to rub circles over the back of your hand with his thumb, grounding you. It's all so intimate, you don't know whether to pull him closer or sprint in the other direction. 
He makes the decision for you - closer. He kisses your hair, and then rests his head atop of yours. You can hear the squad laughing and cheering inside, all of them completely unaware that out on the deck, two of their teammates are baring their souls to each other. 
You have no idea whether it's been two minutes or two hours when Jake speaks again. 
"You're the prettiest girl in that bar, you know." Then, he says, a bit quieter, "You're always the prettiest girl in the room."
He says it so sincerely, so earnestly, that you want to rip your heart out of your chest and place it in his hands. You want to give it to him so that maybe he'll finally understand - it's already his. 
You don't know what to say, so you bring your interlaced hands up to your lips, and kiss each of his knuckles individually. He's so warm, so golden. Radiating light wherever he goes. Your North Star. 
You both listen to the gentle crash of the ocean waves, sitting with the weight of the moment. It feels like with every second that passes, silent revelations are being made. As if the love, the feelings, the comfort, are passing through your hands and into his. You're quite convinced that you could stay right where you are forever. 
Bury me like this, you think. Immortalise us here. 
All of a sudden, the sound of a countdown breaks through your solitude. 
Ten. Nine.
You smile gently, and look at Jake, to see him gazing down at you. Stars in his eyes. Cosmic boy. 
Eight. Seven. 
He glances inside, to see the squad all gathered together, arms around one another. His family. 
Six. Five. 
Jake turns to you, and cups your face in both of his hands. Those hands that have picked you up from the ground. Those hands that have wiped your tears. Those hands, so strong, but so gentle. That's him all over, though. Your gentle boy. 
Four. Three. 
He looks at you with promise in his eyes. You can understand, clear as day, what he's telling you. Life will never be the same, from this day forward. Neither of you can wait. 
Two. One. 
Jake leans in, and presses his lips to yours. He tastes like spearmint, and the future. One of his hands travels to the back of your neck, to pull you in closer. Now that he has you this near, he knows he's never going to be able to let you go. 
Bodies pressed together as close as can be, you kiss him with so much love, you're surprised he hasn't fallen over. He's breathing you in, trying to commit this moment to memory. He knows he'll tell your grandkids about this. Hell, he'll tell any damn person that'll listen. 
"Happy New Year, sweetheart," he murmurs against your lips. 
"Happy New Year, lover," you whisper back against his. 
Bright beams of light appear above your head suddenly. Explosions of color dance across the sky, illuminating Jake's face. You look at him, and feel the urge to burst into tears. He's not watching the fireworks. He's watching you. He's gazing at you like you hung the moon. You're looking at him like he's the North Star, guiding you home. And that's exactly where you are. Home.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
agoodroughandtumble · 30 days
Text
None of Those Girls Are Me Part 2 - Roronoa Zoro x Reader
Status: Incomplete Summary: Reader is completely oblivious to Zoro’s feelings Warnings: 18+, Language, might be smut or implied smut in further chapters 
You had remained next to him for the rest of the night – completely unaware as to how grateful he was that you had given up on your random flirtations. Unsurprisingly, the more you drank the more animated you became – increasingly excited about every topic of conversation, laughing without a care in the world and so, so oblivious to the way Zoro was looking at you. He was grateful for that too. He could let himself indulge, just a little, safe in the knowledge that any lingering looks that could give him away were far from your radar.
The bar lights reflected in your eyes, emphasising their own brightness lit up by your smile. Zoro couldn’t help but think that the stars themselves were dancing in those eyes, and only for him. This delusion was only exacerbated by the way your thighs were touching his and the ease at which you invaded his personal space, as if you already knew he had made room for you behind his walls months ago.
He was too busy allowing himself to relax against your hand on his forearm that your question threw him completely off guard.
“So what sort of girls do you like?” You were looking at him expectantly, as if he was supposed to respond with anything other than “You, obviously”.
He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I told you I’m not really into the one night stand thing.”
You rolled your eyes exaggeratedly. “I know. I’m not talking about that. I’m talking in general. Oh!” You wiggled your fingers, trying to think, “Who was that girl? Urgh,” fingers increased speed as you wracked your brain. “Toshiko? The marine, with the swords. You liked her.”
Zoro’s eyes studied your carefully. “Tashigi. She’s a pain in the arse.”
You smiled wryly at him. “Uh huh.”
He wasn’t quite sure where you were going with this, but was definitely sure he wasn’t going to like it. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Zoro watched as you chewed your lips, trying really, really hard not to think what those lips tasted like. Probably alcohol at this point, his probably did too. Which was more than find since he could blame said alcohol for his inability to stop staring.
“Well,” you shuffled almost impossibly closer, “Just in my experience if someone gets under your skin that much there’s a reason why.”
He let out an amused sigh and tried to force the upturned corner of his mouth back to neutrality. The irony of you saying that to him was surely the universe’s biggest “fuck you” yet.
You had noticed the change in his expression. “I knew it!”
Oh fuck. He prepared himself for the onslaught of questions, the feigned disbelief because obviously you had to be aware, and, lastly, he prepared himself for the “gentle” let down that while you liked him, it wasn’t in that way but you still wanted to be friends – for the sake of the crew, and all. He hadn’t prepared himself for the triumphant way you clapped your hands together, eyes lighting up almost too brightly.
“You do like her!”
The fuck.
He took a sip of his drink. A rather long sip. More of a downing if anything. Thankfully the bar was so busy that whenever one of you went to get a round you came back with multiples to save the constant queueing. So he kept drinking. It was almost as if his brain had short circuited. If he said he didn’t, you would just tease him about denying his feelings. But he couldn’t say he did because obviously that was a lie. You were clearly expecting some sort of reaction, and him just downing drinks wasn’t exactly giving off the impression that he Did Not Care. So, in a last act of desperation he did something completely out of character that he was surely going to regret, but he’d found himself digging such a hole the only way out was to blow the whole terrain up. He set his drink down and turned to face you, trying to show some semblance of indifference. “Say if I did like anyone, how do I…” he sighed. This was the worst idea but the only one that wasn’t screaming from the rooftops. “Do that.”
The smile on your face was almost maniacal. He would find it adorable if it didn’t instil him with fear. You were clearly not going to let this go. “Are you asking me for dating advice?” You laughed and his heart twinged. “The great Pirate Hunter Zoro is afraid of telling a girl he likes her?”
Obviously yes. But you didn’t have to spell it out. You could have afforded him that dignity at least. But his mouth spoke before his brain engaged and said the worst possible thing. “No, just tell me what girls like. What you would like.”
You smirked and picked up your drink offering a toast. “Oh, I’m going to get you so many girls.”
127 notes · View notes
fandomnerd9602 · 4 months
Text
Cold Outside
StepSister!Wanda x Reader
For @lifespectator and @aloneodi
Tumblr media
You and your stepsister Wanda had been up to your own brand of mischief. Ever since your first kiss with her on New Years Eve, it’s like the two of you could not get enough of each other. You always found little excuses to see one another and share kisses where no one could see you. Wanda and you were scared of what your parents would think of such a relationship.
But that didn’t stop you and her from having ‘cram sessions’ over at your apartment. Yes you and her did study for exams and homework. But afterward the two of you would celebrate with pizza, a marathon of her favorite shows and a little make out session. It was the perfect cover.
A perfect cover until it happened.
Your college town was hit with the worst blizzard of the year. Your classes were cancelled but somehow Wanda's were still on.
You tried to keep your apartment warm when you got a call from your stepsister, "detka?"
"what's the matter, Wanda?"
"the heater in my apartment broke. C-Can I come stay over at your place?"
“What about your roommate? yelena?”
“She’s hanging out with Kate. So can you please pick me up, detka?”
"Of course! I'll come pick you up." You grabbed your keys and ran to your car.
The wind was howling and the snow fall nearly blinded your view but yet you persisted on being there when Wanda stepped out from the college commons area.
You pull up outside of the commons and Wanda runs out from under the porch right to your car. The scarlet red scarf you bought her blowing in the wind. She quickly jumps in and blows into her hands, just trying to keep herself warm.
“Hello detka” she smiles at you.
“Hey you” you smile back, “let’s go home.”
It didn’t take long for you and Wanda to get home. You spent the time talking about whatever you wanted as you drove home.
You and Wanda truly enjoy spending whatever time you can together. Little moments here and there.
You turn on your television and switch it to your queue of Dick Van Dyke episodes. Wanda continues to enjoy her freshly brewed tea as you take a seat next to her.
“No better way to rough it through a blizzard, huh?” You give a little smirk to your stepsister.
“What are we?” She asks.
“What do you mean?” You genuinely ask.
“I-I mean…where do you see us?”
You gently take her free hand, “Wanda…there will never be another. You’re it. I’m totally in love with you. I-I want strings with you”
Your thumb glides across her knuckles.
“I want strings with you too” she giggles. “I want to tell everyone about us, but only when you’re ready.”
“When you’re ready,” you reassure her. She stares at you with adoring eyes. Her gazes lowers to your lips and then back to your eyes.
You pull her into your lap. Wanda giggles and leans in, kissing you. Her tongue glides across your lips, you can’t help but allow her access.
“Detka” she whispers against your lips.
You and Wanda continue to share long, loving, passionate kisses on your couch; lost in your own little world. Wanda giggles against your lips. Your hands wander up and down her spine.
So strong was the temptation to reach under her shirt but you truly loved her. You were willing to take things slow and enjoy all the little memories you have to form with the amazing young woman in your arms.
Your little moment of heaven was interrupted by the sound of Wanda’s cell phone. She let out a quick little squeak of embarrassment before rolling off your lap and grabbing her phone. The caller ID on her phone read Papa. You and her went pale white.
Wanda takes a deep breath, wanting to calm the beating of her heart from her moment of ecstasy. She answers the phone, “hello Papa” she puts it in speaker mode.
“Hello my little witch, I just wanted to be sure you were alright.” Your stepfather tries to explain. “That blizzard is something fierce.”
“I’m alright” Wanda giggles, “I’m at Y/N’s. My apartment’s heater went out.”
“Hey Pops” you call out.
“You all okay?” Your stepfather asks back.
“Y-yeah” you try to answer. “I was about to put a pizza in the oven and turn on some Dick Van Dyke.”
“Okay” Django answers back. “According to the weather channel, the blizzard won’t clear up for two days”
You and Wanda look to each other, you can already see the ideas forming in Wanda’s head.
“Think you’ll be alright?” Your stepfather asks.
“Yes Papa,” Wanda answers, “I think we’ll be alright. We’ve got homework and tv and…”
“Okay. Love you both” Django answers before hanging up.
You and your detka look at one another. You can’t help but share a laugh. She collapses against your chest.
“You hungry?” You ask her playfully as you wrap her in a hug.
“Yes. For pizza…and you” she giggles at her own response. You give her one last kiss to her lips and one more to her forehead.
It sure is cold outside but it’s nice and warm in your little apartment. You will have to tell her father and your mother eventually but until then you’re just gonna enjoy your time together. You and the love of your life: Wanda Maximoff.
259 notes · View notes
chiliyue-archived · 1 year
Text
10 things...
Tumblr media
Gender Neutral Reader
- reposted since tumblr queue thing messed this up
Tags; FLUFF, tiny bit suggestive but not really, petnames(beloved, lover), a whole lot of kisses and I love yous, fluff fluff fluff
-
10 paper rings he made with otherwise discarded paper. He teasingly places the crafted jewel to your ring finger as he asks for your hand, all before placing lingering kisses to each pad of your fingers.
9 sweet nothings amongst the heat of the moment. His lips are swollen from feverish kisses, and yet he can't stop himself from kissing you more. His hands are greedy, tugging and pulling your skin, blemished from the slight nibbling of his teeth coaxing muffled mewls as he swallowed you into another kiss. He only pulls away to whisper against your ear, his hot breath pricking your skin and sending goosebumps down your arms. He couldn't stop himself from spilling those sweet words that arose a velvet blush to your cheeks. His mouth was running like a faucet- he wouldn't stop until you know just how much you mean to him, but even words feel feeble in comparison to the feelings he holds.
8 sticky notes on the kitchen counter or bedroom table. Quick little doodles and sweet messages covered the little papers as your lover went on with his day. He despises that he can not spend his morning with you at all times, cuddled up in the comforts of your shared bed, his arms would be wrapped around your waist knowing you were safe. But for now, silly little drawing and messages will suffice as he reminds you to: take care of yourself, to not forget your supplies for the day, to eat and to drink water and of course, his personal favorite; don't forget I love you <3 ٩꒰ ˘ ³˘꒱۶
7 hesitant confessions. Every attempt didn't feel right, perfect - just like you deserved. Before each moment, his face grew uncomfortably hot, the words getting caught in his throat before sputtering a poor excuse and running off, leaving you confused. Note confessions resulted in crumbled papers piling in his trash bin, the sentences not conveying the right things. Asking you on a simple date left him tongue tied, and he ended up asking you for a pencil instead. And he didn't want to get a mutual friend to do it either; he had to be the one to tell you. It will take almost half a dozen attempts until he finally confessed those three simple yet terrifying words; 'I like you'
6 blushing faces as the mere sight of his beloved is enough to make him weak in the knees. He truly finds you to be the most beautiful thing in the world, your smile infectious and filling his chest with warmth and desire to be the best partner he can for you. He finds you mesmerizing in anything you wear; a bland article of clothing instantly has life when on your figure. But he easily buckles to his knees when you dress up pretty/handsome for him for special dates and occasions - you'll have to forgive him. He wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself. You look so heavenly.
5 more minutes in bed, he would grumble against the crook of your neck. His lips were slightly brushing against the bare skin;even as you shivered and squrim, it only encouraged him to stay longer. His grip was one impossible to escape from, only tightening at the slightest sign of movement, his lips spilling a false promise of 'just one more minute'. A pleasant smile was forming on his features as he drew you closer to him, your back firmly pressed against his. He couldn't ask for a better start of the day, having you engulfed in his loving embrace as he lingered in that spot for a 'couple' of minutes longer.
4 I love yous before he leaves. He was running horribly late by the time he even thought about leaving. Your absence left a void and the time ticked painfully slow till it be filled again. And so he slowly draws himself from you, calling upon any excuse to just linger a second longer. ' I love you' He would mumble against your lips, finally disconnecting his hands from your own. 'I love you' He would say before brushing your hair from your face to get a better look- his heel slightly turning to leave. 'I love you' He would call out as he rushed off to do his work, his voice echoing off the corridors before becoming distant. A couple seconds pass before you feel your phone notification system click off; 1 message -> 'I love you'
3 dozen kisses when you weakly sob into the crook of his shoulder, his hands rubbing comforting circles against the fabrics of your shirt. His lips carry sweet nothings as sorrow drowns out into tranquility. A couple more dozen kisses to your face simply because he feels like it, grasping your chin with care, chuckling softly against your lips as butterflies dance on the surface of his chest. He is addicted to your saccharin lips, his own becoming swollen and painted magenta as he draws himself closer for another round of vehement kisses.
2 squeezes to the palm on your hand, which was interlaced firmly within his own, his thumb drawing lazy circles at the curve of your fingers and knuckles. It was mundane yet so intimate at the same time. A simple thing to do in the gaze of prying eyes as you both stroll in the park, the sun's warm rays, or the moon's cool gaze bathing you in fluorescent hues. Yet it didn't compare to the sensation pulling at his heart when he feels those two gentle squeeze to his hand, a silent agreed upon codeword; 'I love you'
1 diamond ring amongst the eve of the horizon. Yellow streaks paint the sky in an alluring glow, making the moment perfect. His palm is becoming sweaty by the passing moment, and his breath hitches as he props himself down to one knee. The ten paper rings failed at preparing him for this moment as he brought all his courage to ask that one last question, and despite the growing hue on his cheeks, his eyes remained on yours. His lips slightly quivered as he took a deep breath, 'Marry me?'
Heizou, Itto, Kazuha, Childe(?), ACE TRAPPOLA, Riddle Rosehearts, Jamil Viper, Silver, ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA, Noé Archviste, Roland Fortis, Osamu Dazai(?), Tetchō Suehiro, Chūya Nakahara
564 notes · View notes
avocado-writing · 9 months
Note
Yello! I want something fluffy but funny so I thought I’d request an aziraphale x crowley x reader where the reader is tech savvy, and by tech savvy I mean just basic knowledge of gadgets and such, but to crowley and aziraphale, tech savvy. Reader introduces them to a lot of gadgets and they’re both so amazed.
Bonus points for nina and maggie confused in the background because it’s literally just basic things but crowley and aziraphale act like it’s fucking magic (also ik crowley has a smartphone, but still!)
Tumblr media
notes: I love this request so much. I really enjoyed writing it! (And don’t worry just because Crowley has a smartphone doesn’t mean he actually knows how to use it, take a look at almost any person above the age of 60)
pairing: aziraphale x gn!reader x crowley
rating: G
Tumblr media
“Darling, the printer isn’t working.”
“Have you tried pressing ‘Control + P’, Aziraphale?”
“Yes. It’s not doing anything, devilish thing.”
You sigh, put your book down, and head over to your angel’s desk. He’s trying to print out a screenshot he’s taken of a picture you sent him the other day. It’s a cat meme. He’s rather taken with them, and likes to have copies to look at across the bookshop. You have explained he can just save the image itself but he doesn’t quite seem to understand that. 
“Ah you see Aziraphale, the problem is that you haven’t actually turned it on.”
“Oh!” he exclaims as you reach over to the power switch. The printer lights up and begins to spit out a dozen copies of the image Aziraphale has now lined up in its queue. As you try to force it to stop, Crowley saunters up behind you. 
“Can you help me get these to connect? They’re not—”
“Yes, one second,” you say, thumping the machine as it makes a sharp noise, and handing a pile of print-outs to Aziraphale. “Headphones again?”
Crowley nods, a little petulantly. You fish out the buds and put them in your ears, waiting until you see they’ve connected on the Bluetooth. 
“Here,” you sigh. You wonder if any of this is actually worth it. Yes, it’s nice for the three of you to have a group chat, but having to constantly remind them that most of these devices have to be connected to electricity is grating on you a little. 
“Oh, I’ve just got a message from Nina on my mobile telephone!” Aziraphale announces. You see him pause over the passcode screen and you brace for him to ask you what it is, again, but he remembers at the last second. “She asks if you can go over and help with the tills, she says they’re… well, I’m not going to repeat what she’s written here but in nicer terms they seem to have broken.”
“Aziraphale please stop telling her that I’m some sort of tech genius. I’m not. I just know how to press buttons correctly.”
“Come on, believe in yourself,” yells Crowley. You roll your eyes and take out one of his headphones. 
“Crowley, I can hear you over your music! You don’t need to shout!”
He sniffs. “It’s a podcast actually.”
“I can tell her that but she might be disappointed,” Aziraphale says, looking at you with Those Eyes. He’ll win, he’ll always win, because you can’t say no to him. You groan. 
“Alright. Tell her I’m on my way - but not to get her hopes up!”
Aziraphale beams at you. As you leave the shop, the printer tells him it’s run out of ink, so he goes about ordering an entirely new one off the internet. 
-
taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @cool-iguana @bdffkierenwalker @ilyatan @civil-groupie @foolishprincipalitee
301 notes · View notes