#Simple tips for first-time gardeners | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astonmartinii · 5 months

Text

if you need me, let me know, gonna be around [mamma mia part seven] | formula one social media au

drivers: sebastian vettel, fernando alonso & fernando alonso

flo has finally given y/n the experience of motherhood, but she’ll never forget about her overgrown kids

MAMMA MIA MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, sebastianvettel and 1,934,033 others

tagged: jensonbutton

yourusername: venturing out from christmas hibernation and adding to the already overflowing collection of teddies. oh, and getting pics like that of jens while he's out "having a job"

view all comments

user1: i am a simple woman, i see dilf jenson, i lose all sense of reality

user2: gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

jensonbutton: oh wow who is that handsome specimen on the last slide?

sebastianvettel: the man who carelessly abandoned his family !!!

fernandoalo_oficial: a man who couldn't handle that i was the best driver in the family

jensonbutton: what ???

sebastianvettel: i'm sorry... is that the ghost of the man we once knew

jensonbutton: i'm not dead

fernandoalo_oficial: to me you are

yourusername: okay guys ... the bit is up !! we do miss you jense but we're happy you're happy :)

sebastianvettel: sure.... well at least you won't try and worm your way into the crochet club

fernandoalo_oficial: as long as you still come to some of my races :)

user3: glad to see parenthood has not changed these fools

charles_leclerc: why do my selfies never make the instagram :(

yourusername: charlie, if i posted every time you sent me a picture of you crying that's all my instagram would be

charles_leclerc: but ........ i thought i was your favourite

yourusername: you know i don't have a favourite

charles_leclerc: sure if that's what you want to tell yourself

maxverstappen1: we all know you say that to not hurt charlie's feelings because i'm your favourite

fernandoalo_oficial: you people are so dramatic

maxverstappen1: says you old man, i can scroll up you know

sebastianvettel: well you're all second to flo

charles_leclerc: she's disqualified from this competition, she's your actual child you have to say she's your favourite

jensonbutton: it's more who annoys us the least

user4: 2024 and nothing has changed here

sebastianvettel

liked by yourusername, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,045,388 others

sebastianvettel: love being miles away, missing my baby and getting a running commentary of how my "grid kids" are terrorising y/n

view all comments

user7: seb is on a mission to pick up every dad hobby ever. first beekeeping and now sailing

user8: don't forget the gardening and the crochet

user9: he's collecting the infinity stones of dilfism

yourusername: a full eight hours of sleep looks so good on you

sebastianvettel: so i don't look good all the time 🤨

yourusername: of course you do handsome. me and flo miss you :((

sebastianvettel: don't say that i miss you all so much

fernandoalo_oficial: maybe that's your sign to come home?

jensonbutton: yeah i think you should listen to the universe seb, you like all that crystal and salt of the earth stuff

yourusername: sebbbbbbbbb :(((((

sebastianvettel: STOP

user10: they are so precious to me

yourusername: no but seriously if i have to teach another grid kid how to iron i might lose my mind

charles_leclerc: ummmmm stop blasting me on main?

yourusername: learn to iron then

sebastianvettel: you still don't know how to iron? i thought i taught you in 2019?

charles_leclerc: clearly not well enough !! and y/n please name and shame the others so i'm not alone

yourusername: @landonorris @logansargeant sorry

landonorris: WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU Y/N? I CALLED YOU IN CONFIDENCE

logansargeant: i don't have any excuse, thank you for the lesson y/n :)

jensonbutton: at least one of our kids is well mannered

charles_leclerc: i am well mannered, sorry i love my grid mum and her kid. i do semi-know how to iron but needed an excuse to see flo :(

user11: free my girl from these incompetent men

mickschumacher

liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoao_oficial and 921,743 others

tagged: yourusername

mickschumacher: thanks nurse y/n and nurse flo for helping me - sorry about your mug

view all comments

user12: the plaster :((((((((

jensonbutton: IT WAS YOU WHO BROKE MY I <3 NASCAR DILFS MUG

mickschumacher: sorry !

jensonbutton: nuh uh mister @sebastianvettel sort your kid out

sebastianvettel: mick said he was sorry jenson, leave him be

jensonbutton: but when lando put the rubbish in the wrong recycling he had to go litter picking with you I WANT A NEW MUG

yourusername: you guys know they aren't actually your kids, you can't put them in time out

yourusername: you can barely put your own child in time out

fernandoalo_oficial: she's too cute i don't want to make her cry

landonorris: but it's fine to make me cry?

fernandoalo_oficial: yes. in fact, it's quite fun

landonorris: Y/N!!!!

yourusername: okay, babies let's all put the phones down for this evening.

user13: nooooo y/n please i could watch these idiots argue all day

yourusername: the main thing is that your finger is all okay and that you got a cute plaster out of it

mickschumacher: i very much love my lil cat finger

yourusername: so does flo, i think you might be stuck doing puppet shows for the forseeable future

mickschumacher: anything for miss flo

user14: mamma mia family dynamics you are everything to me

fernandoalo_oficial: why did mick get a kitty plaster and i got told to do it myself :(

yourusername: because you're a grown man and you injured yourself by tripping with darts in your hands

fernandoalo_oficial: mick is a grown man - HE CAN VOTE just because he needs seb's help with the paperwork does not change that

mickschumacher: you said yourself they are confusing !!

sebastianvettel: ignore him mick

fernandoalo_oficial: booooooooo

user15: i know these men provide the best entertainment for flo even if she doesn't understand a word they're saying

yourusername: she finds them very entertaining which then starts a competition to who can make her laugh the most

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,447,734

tagged: alexalbon, lilymunhe

yourusername: sometimes even my most competent grid kid needs some help, happy anniversary alex and lily x

view all comments

user16: UGH this is so cute

alexalbon: grid mum or emotional support retail assistant?

lilymunhe: so how much of the heartfelt gift was really you

alexalbon: 90% !!! i swear

yourusername: it was all alex he just needed the support (idk he said that jewellery shops are stressful)

alexalbon: they are !! i don't know how big fingers are :(

lilymunhe: thank you y/n wouldn't want the 27 year old man to get lost at the mall

yourusername: no worries, i somehow gained at least 15 extra children along with flo, i just go with it. he's less hassle than charles and max

charles_leclerc: rude.

maxverstappen1: gasp!

user17: i love how much y/n has really embraced the grid mum life

user18: i don't think she had much choice 😭

user19: the way she's like "oh i'll help you all with anything you need" and takes flo on all of these side missions and the guys just leave them to die 😭

user20: they're such dad's who don't want the cat but end up attached but don't want to show it

jensonbutton: wait which one of us claim alex? is it me? why was i not invited?

alexalbon: ur my williams dad :) and i think this trip needed a woman's touch (and flo's touch obvs)

jensonbutton: rude i give great gifts

fernandoalo_oficial: considering he's one of the least feral and has lily, i want to claim alex

sebastianvettel: i have too many kids you guys can have alex

alexalbon: sebastian! did our gardening afternoons mean nothing ?

lilymunhe: we'll take it nando

sebastianvettel: did you or did you not just make it a competition with george to see who could plant potatoes the fastest and then make a mess of my vegetable garden

georgerussell63: GUILTY

yourusername: soz but you all have to claim all of them, my rules now

user21: y/n and flo going to rule that house with an iron fist

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by yourusername, jensonbutton and 1,309,244 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

fernandoalo_oficial: glad to be back on the podium, but even more proud to call you my grid kid. we all love you, especially flo :)

view all comments

user24: THEY HAVE MATCHING MIFFY PLUSHIES

user25: miffy is dutch so that might be why max got them matching ones :)

yourusername: and flo is surgically attached to her miffy (she has named her maxi, even if she can barely say it)

maxverstappen1: you are one of my heroes and it was a pleasure to share the podium with you. there's no one else in the world i'd love to dedicate my podium to than lil mia x

fernandoalo_oficial: you've got me crying again

maxverstappen1: get it all out old man

fernandoalo_oficial: already back to the old man 🤨 i guess i'll take the nice messages while i can

user26: nando getting all mushy is so cute i can't believe this is where we are

charles_leclerc: let it be known that if i had a car fast enough i would also dedicate a win to flo, but for now she'll have to settle for a song

fernandoalo_oficial: is silvia going to kill you? because seb and y/n might kill me if they get your ass over this

charles_leclerc: but it's true, no?

fernandoalo_oficial: you will not trick me into slandering my old team charlie

maxverstappen1: LOL YOU SNOOZE YOU LOSE

charles_leclerc: YOU KNEW THAT WAS MY IDEA THIEF

sebastianvettel: charles why am i getting a call from silvia?

maxverstappen1: LOL

charles_leclerc: brb just going to lourdes

jensonbutton: lol way to get outshined by your kid

fernandoalo_oficial: at least i was in the position to be outshined by my kid

jensonbutton: ERGH you know you can't bring that up

fernandoalo_oficial: you said that you couldn't wait to get away from us

jensonbutton: oop.

yourusername: my wonderful boys!

maxverstappen1: :D

fernandoalo_oficial: i love you both :)

maxverstappen1: awww thanks nando

fernandoalo_oficial: i meant y/n and flo but sure love you too buddy

yourusername

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, jensonbutton and 1,610,449 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: maxy, this means more than you could know, flo very much enjoyed watching 'blu' go fast :)

view all comments

user27: is this family going to make me cry? maybe.

user28: side note, how many animal onesies does flo have they're so cute

user29: she's like a lil teddy bear

maxverstappen1: glad to have officially won the title of flo's favourite brother

charles_leclerc: NOT SO FAST MISTER

maxverstappen1: maybe if you were faster you would've dedicated a win to flo :P

charles_leclerc: LOW BLOW

danielricciardo: don't even get me started on the daniel ricciardo erasure

maxverstappen1: shush daniel let the problem children talk

charles_leclerc: yeah daniel, problem children only

sebastianvettel: should we intervene?

yourusername: no, i'm intrigued as to where this is going to go

jensonbutton: i for one love watching these dummies fight

fernandoalo_oficial: let me get my popcorn

maxverstappen1: are we just entertainment to you?

jensonbutton: yes!

charles_leclerc: the minute flo can talk ASK HER WHO IS HER FAVOURITE

sebastianvettel: sure?

user30: they can never ask that question, one of them might never recover

maxverstappen1: for real though, i love you guys and i love flo. i'll send nando home with the trophy as well :)

yourusername: awwww thank you maxy :) @sebastianvettel @fernandoalo_oficial @jensonbutton new shelf needed please

jensonbutton: i'll leave this one to "the woodwork king"

sebastianvettel: am i the only one who does anything in this house?

fernandoalo_oficial: you can't be called the woodwork king and not do the work

yourusername: you don't even let them help seb

sebastianvettel: UGH.

jensonbutton

liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoalo_oficial and 912,774 others

tagged: yourusername, danielricciardo

jensonbutton: day 4,000+ of losing our actual girlfriend to our overgrown kids

view all comments

user31: PICTURE OF DANNY WITH FLO ALERT ALERT

yourusername: not my fault you guys picked up so many stray cats while in the sport

jensonbutton: i only claim lando and alex, the rest are the others' faults

yourusername: i know you love it really

jensonbutton: not when the little tornadoes hit our house, eat all of our food and steal my baby

danielricciardo: whoops

jensonbutton: and terrorise my pets DANIEL

danielricciardo: they terrorise each other jenson, maybe they aren't as well trained as you thought

yourusername: oh god...

jensonbutton: HOW DARE YOU !!!! BECKETT, SALMON AND CREAM CHEESE ARE VERY WELL TRAINED AND WELL BEHAVED

user32: old men are going crazy we love to see it

sebastianvettel: are we a bed and breakfast?

yourusername: i fear so. you need to run back from whatever ocean you are in we are low on staff now jenson is back racing. flo might be cute but she's a liability in the kitchen

fernandoalo_oficial: maybe we should just kick them out

yourusername: noooo :( not my babies

fernandoalo_oficial: can we at least charge them?

maxverstappen1: you people are the most stingy millionaires i have ever met

charles_leclerc: i pay you in piano sorry

yourusername: don't listen to them boys, flo and i love having you over

user33: so like is there any way we could open the mamma mia bed and breakfast to the public

fernandoalo_oficial: why do the grid kids see our family more than us?

yourusername: come home more often then :(

fernandoalo_oficial: i'm working on it the plane is delayed :(

jensonbutton: personally i would just run home but that's just me

sebastianvettel: i would simply just walk on water

fernandoalo_oficial: shut up. see you later

yourusername: yay !!!!

fin.

note: writer's block has really been beating my ass so there's always mamma mia to get it flowing again. i'm still working on requests, hopefully they'll come along a little faster now! also - i started an instagram for my small business i am opening it's @badlydrawnf1cats, feel free to follow x

edit: mamma mia will return

taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora @faithm120601 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @luv4kani @eugene-emt-roe @magical-spit @ironmaiden1313 @jaydaaasworld @whoreks @rainerax @nonsensical-nonsence @laneyspaulding19 @chelseyyouraverageluigi @lxclerc @gemofthenight @woweewoowa @tagteamedbitch@imagandom@mypage-myfandoms@mehrmonga@asparklysoul @unstableplant @motorsp0rt@multilovebot@lili-flower03 @its-elias-world @jolixtreesunn@nothingfuninthislife@rileynicol3@kodzuvk@mochimommy2002@fluffyspaceprincess@roseseraj@black-swan-blog27@nyrasslut@justdreamersdream@asfaraslifegets@why4anne@ineffableperson@leilanixx@lunyyx @pupbistro @gaypoetsblog@rafaaoli@champomiel@sadsierra2 @rainerax @lokietro @thecubanator2 @nzygftoji @rockyhayzkid @nmw-am @slytherheign @erikasurfer @turn-around-look-at-what-you-see @greigreyhiyyih @duck-duck-goose-18 @dark-night-sky-99 @ironcowboycopnickel @sizzlingghostoperatorbagel @2bormaybenot @42ndbrokencompass @whotfisvale @lichterfee @sticksdoesart @glitterf1 @turn-around-look-at-what-you-see @lighttsoutlewis @tagteamedbitch @glow-ish @sadg3 @kagatinkita @litoriaxu

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #mamma mia au #sebastian vettel instagram au #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel #fernando alonso instagram au #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso #jenson button instagram au #jenson button x reader #jenson button imagine #f1 social media au

2K notes · View notes

whimsigothwitch · 10 months

Text

Everyday witchy tips

Not everyone has time for daily spells or rituals, here are some witchy acts to incorporate a bit of magic into your day!

Glamour magic while getting ready for the day, while washing your face first thing in the morning imagine washing away all negative thoughts. Draw sigils with sunscreen/daycream/foundation on your face, incorporate color magic (eyeshadow, lipstick, nails). Braid your hair with an intention for the day (being protected against harm, attracting luck etc.)

Color magic while getting dressed; red for confidence and strength, yellow and orange for happiness and energy, green for attracting luck and abundance, blue for focus and communication, pink for (self)love, purple for intuition and wisdom, black for protection, white for purity and protection. Gold jewelry for the sun, succes and prosperity, and silver jewelry for the moon and intuition.

Drinking herbal tea, start the day with a warm cup of tea. This can be made with fresh herbs from the garden, or from tea bags. Stir clockwise with a teaspoon or the teabag it self to put an intention in your tea for the day.

Crystals in pockets, bags, even your bra. Choose an crystal for the day, charge it with it’s intention and carry it with you.

Shielding from negative energies, imagine being surrounded by a white light that protects you. Or have a short mantra that you can say to yourself or in your head when needed, this can be as simple as 'I am protected against negative energies in any shape or from'

Showering, washing any lingering energy, thoughts or negative feelings away from the day. If you have trouble imagining negative energy washing off you in a color, see the soap you are washing off as this energy. Watch it flow away from you into the shower drain.

2K notes · View notes

shibaraki · 7 months

Text

THE VANISHING MOON ┊ TSUKISHIMA KEI

tags: GN reader, post timeskip, exes to lovers, fluff, emotional hurt + comfort, reader is a writer, alcohol consumption, mutual pining, getting back together, kisses, weddings, previous ‘mutual’ breakup, happy ending

wc: 4.2K

For as long as you can remember, you’ve loved love stories.

The first time you picked up a pen with the intention to write you’d been looking for a specific someone. To pour love into and be loved by. Conjured from the recesses of your mind, a soft smile from the boy you liked, one prepared to whisk you away from the converging angst that came with your adolescence.

In later years you looked inward, searching for yourself. To satiate your loneliness through self introspection. Ink blotted fingers working arduously at the knots that make up the soul. Knots that were once straight rope, simple and without weak points. And when you failed to love yourself you turned outward, exploring the web that made up the world.

You saw that other people loved stories, too. That there would always be at least one which speaks to them in some way and stays with them. You coveted that reality; to be something another person could love, and look back on with fondness. For your words to strike such a chord that they’d become part of another’s tapestry. To live on. Never again be forgotten, even if it means being an echo of something.

That yearning accompanies you up the cobbled footpath. The crisp air pinching the tips of your ears. Soft, muted chirps rippled throughout the treeline. “Wow,” you murmur, breathless. Arms sticky with perspiration, leg muscles tingling in exertion after walking the steep hill.

The reception venue sits on the end of a private road, concealed by threadbare canopy. Under an open sky there lay every shade and stroke of colour. Dappled sunlight casts shadows across the grass and your eyes are drawn to them.

“Wow is right. They’ve done an incredible job,” Sugawara airs his appreciation as he walks at your side. His voice is awed, and his cheeks are red. “I can’t believe they managed it. Karumai Gardens are notoriously stingy for booking events”.

The wedding invitation shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Remaining some of your closest friends, Kiyoko and Tanaka had already confirmed your attendance long before the formal invites were sent out. You even found yourself on the end of multiple phone calls over the months assisting a panicked Tanaka with writing and rewriting his vows.

Despite that, your stomach roiled at the invitation on your kitchen counter, and your heart crawled up into your throat. Because suddenly it was too real.

Everybody would be there.

Tsukishima would be there.

You’ve been a high strung for most of the day, hyper vigilant to the point of fraying. The ceremony was beautiful. Kiyoko looked ethereal draped in her white lace gown, a delicate veil cascading down her back and rippling down the aisle as she walked. Tanaka was striking in his dark blue suit and embroidered waistcoat. Sitting at the forefront, you remained steadfast in your ignorance of Tsukishima’s scrunity and dabbed at your face as you cried.

You missed having his attention. Missed the subtle stroke of his sharp gold eyes across every part of you as though it were Tsukishima’s hands themselves. A scant, cowardly part of you considered not attending the reception, grateful that he hadn’t approached you yet. If he would at all. Kei could be unbearably prideful about these things. But what do you know?

Nothing. After all this time you probably know nothing at all.

“I think he wants to talk to you,” Sugawara says, drawing your focus to the present. “It’s obvious he’s missed you”.

You edge past the increasingly dense foliage with intent, your fingertips outstretched to brush the near-blooming plants. “Who?” you ask. Sugawara’s grin turns wry and he threads his arm through yours.

“So petty,” he murmurs, patting your bicep. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But he’s single, and has been staring at you all day. I thought I should mention it”.

“Well you’ve mentioned it,” you return without true malice, squeezing him back. Sugawara’s lips parted in a sigh, and for a brief second, you saw a wistful expression beneath the lighthearted veneer. It stirs unease in your chest and you add, “I just don’t want to make a scene”.

“You really think that’s what it’ll come to?”

Memories unearthed from the deep recesses of your mind. Packed away into tight spaces and left to collect dust where they can’t hurt you. They awaken easily, triggered by a simple question, and with such clarity that you wonder if you ever forgot them at all.

Soft, deliberate touches. Long, warm embraces, swallowed up by his large frame. Graceless laughter—the ugly kind that makes your stomach hurt. Languorous kisses, biting kisses, chaste kisses, clumsy kisses. Good morning and good night kisses. Bickering over breakfast. Bickering over dinner. Wandering, calloused hands. Pressure behind two fingers, splitting you like soft fruit. A sharp tongue and sharper words. Holding hands in bed, anchoring yourself to him like you were afraid he might float away in the night.

Life became busier than either of you expected. Kei landed an opportunity to play for a division two team in the V league alongside his work at the Sendai city museum. Your publisher's demands increased. Kei’s priorities shifted. Resentment crept in. He started to forget things. Small promises and favours, like getting the grocery’s or making it home for date night. They felt so significant at the time—things you deemed indicative of his commitment to you, without communicating as such.

Fractures formed in your relationship. You ignored them in favour of keeping the peace, hoping to address them when the timing was better. Only with hindsight can you say that was the wrong choice. The fractures contracted, expanded until it grew into a yawning cavity with one of you standing either side of it. A slow decay.

“No. No, it wouldn’t,” you tell Sugawara. Tsukishima has never been a shining paragon of virtue but he wouldn't do anything to disrupt Tanaka’s wedding. “I’m just nervous. I haven’t seen him since…”

Sugawara hums his acknowledgment. You’re adrift as he guides you into the venue holding the wedding reception, welcomed into a kaleidoscope of colour. Carefully crafted floral arrangements line the hall. Half of the building is a greenhouse conversion, and natural light filters in through the high, arching ceilings, illuminating the dance floor. You take in the surroundings as your senses are enveloped by the pleasant din.

“Look, there’s Yachi and Nishinoya,” Sugawara tugs on your arm and calls out, “Yachi! Noya!”

Nishinoya crowed, leaping forward to gather you and Sugawara into a blistering hug. Barely two extra inches on him yet larger than you remember, skin kissed by the sun and his hair handsomely coiffed. His waistcoat creases awkwardly with the stretch of his body while you sink into his warmth and feel your cheeks ache.

“Man, I feel like I could scale a mountain! It’s so good to see you guys again,” Nishinoya reclines to get a look at you both and firmly takes you by the shoulders. “You have a lot to answer for,” he says with mock seriousness.

“I do?” you laugh, skull knocking side to side as he shakes you.

“I read your book on the plane”.

Your laughter putters out. You grimace and clear your throat, “Oh—really?”

“Most of us have. We wanted to support you properly,” Yachi admits as she steps forward to hug you. She’s smiling when she pulls away, faint laughter lines deepening.

Sugawara nods and pokes at your waist, “Don’t look so embarrassed. It was amazing”.

“It made me cry!” Nishinoya effuses. He sniffs, and to your mortification he looks like he might burst into tears again. “There was this one line—gah, no! I can’t talk about it. Get over here, I need to hug you again”.

“Thank you, Noya-san,” you wheeze at the arms constricting around your midsection, eyes clenched shut to repress the impending sting. You turn your head, nose knocking against his temple as you peer at the others. “Thank you all. I mean it”.

Yachi squirms, her smile quivering. “I’m really happy you made it today,” she says once you’ve been released. The unyielding pressure of Nishinoya’s embrace lingers like two phantom limbs. “You too, Nishinoya-san”.

“It’s amazing you’re upright. I thought for sure the jet lag would get to you,” Sugawara laughs. He utters a quick apology to the server passing with a tray of drinks. “Didn’t you fly in from Barcelona?”

“Yeah. Should’a been heading to Andorra but I wouldn’t miss my bro’s wedding for the world,” Nishinoya’s voice drifts as his eyes follow the alcohol. He plucks a glass in one swift motion and holds it high, “Salut I força al canut!”

Yachi watches him throw back the drink with poorly veiled anxiety. “Ah, speaking of, we should find our seats. It looks like the cake cutting is starting soon”.

“Good call. We’re getting in the way of the preparations. And I think you’ve left Asahi alone for too long,” Sugawara claps Nishinoya on the shoulder. “Looks like he’s been accosted by Saeko-san”.

Nishinoya pivots on his heel, whip-like and buzzing. You’re not sure which name he reacted to more. Asahi or Saeko. “Where?” his gaze locks in on the pair across the room. “I’ll talk to you guys in a bit!”

Gone in a blink. “He never slows down,” Sugawara sighs, shaking his head fondly. “Guess that’s my cue,” he says before parting ways. Yachi waves after them.

An idea strikes you then. “Say, Yacchan. You’re next to me, right?” you glance toward the long tables set up around the dance floor and meet her gaze with a suggestive smile. “Would you want to sit next to Yamaguchi instead? I don’t mind swapping”.

Their relationship had blossomed over the past few months. A long, slow burn finally come to fruition, new enough that mention of it usually makes her turn pink. But the light in her eyes dims at your suggestion, and rather than flustered, Yachi looks uncertain.

Her fingers form a loose clasp around your forearm. “Tadashi is seated next to Tsukishima,” she explains gingerly. You feel yourself freeze and the kind motion of her thumb strokes circles along the inside of your wrist.

You let out a shaky exhale. “That’s okay. I don’t mind,” you tell her before the consequences of what you’re offering can really be cemented. Yachi’s eyes widen, her grip tighter on your hand as you squeeze back in an attempt at reassurance, knowing your smile looks brittle. “It’s probably for the best. We haven’t… talked yet”.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure”.

“Are you sure you’re sure?”

“Hitoka,” you laugh, bumping your shoulders together. “I promise I’ll survive”.

You regret it not two minutes later.

Anticipation fizzes under your skin as you spot him. On approach you give him a cursory look over, the harsh beat of your heart ricocheting in your chest. Tsukishima looks good—he always does, but today, dressed in his dark, double breasted suit, with the golden hour light carding fingers through his neatly styled hair, you think he’s never looked better.

It is disconcerting to see him again and realise that your feelings haven’t changed much in the slightest.

You sit in the chair beside him. You see his spine draw taut in the corner of your eye and feel an oscillating loneliness; so alike those final few weeks together that cold dread seeps between the spaces in your ribs and steals your breath.

“Tsukishima,” you incline your head, impersonal and cautious, hating how foreign his surname is on your tongue.

A beat passes before he repeats your name in greeting, soft as a psalm despite the dour expression on his face. You’re overcome with the urge to poke the uncomfortable crease in his brow. To smooth it out and kiss the skin there, the way you used to do.

You shift in your seat. The arms curve around your midsection and knock against your elbows as you fiddle with the table cloth, “I told Yacchan that Yamaguchi could have my seat so they can sit together. I hope that’s alright”.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” and you know the clipped answer is reflexive by the way his jaw locks in frustration at himself. Bracing for what you’ll say next.

Only, your mouth curls up a little, and you exhale a short laugh through your nose. You haven’t seen him this skittish since your first year of highschool. You consider that maybe you aren’t the only one who’s scared. That things are the same and they are not the same. The thought is bittersweet, but it’s nice, the way his trepidation gives way to muted awe, how he sends you sidelong glances when he thinks you’re not looking.

The music picks up in a grand crescendo as the newlyweds enter the hall and the reception begins with a raucous applause. A rich aroma unfurls as the food is served, the depth of the flavour layering over the already present notes of wildflower and honey. Drinks are handed to the guests. Generously. You swirl the liquid gold around the rim of your glass, luxuriating in the syrupy inebriation of a gently oaked chardonnay.

“So, uh. How’ve you been?”

Tsukishima, to his credit, does not startle at the question. “Fine,” he says, and you think he might leave it at that when he adds, “The museum received another new Crinoid collection last month, so I’ve been preoccupied”.

You grasp at the conversational thread, not wanting him to stop, “Crinoids?”

“Marine animals. They still exist today, though not as common. You might’ve heard of sea lilies and feather stars,” he shrugs halfheartedly, not daring to look away from his deep fried tofu, though it’s clear he can’t help talking about his work with pride. “Ours are from the Triassic period”.

“Just like the, uh—” you click your fingers to conjure the name from thin air “—Gojirasaurus! Your favourite, right?”

Tsukishima pauses. It’s a fleeting thing, but you notice. The corner of his lips curves into a barely-there smile. He seems pleased that you remembered. You busy your hands with repositioning the cutlery a fourth time so maybe, hopefully, you can distract yourself enough not to say something stupid like: “If I visit, will you show it to me?” or “Do you miss me, like I miss you?”

You clear your throat. “I hear the Sendai Frogs have been doing well, too. Congratulations on moving up to division one”.

Those aureate eyes are sliding to you again, bright and searching. Tsukishima arches his brow in a delicate mocking gesture that was unbearable when he was sixteen and even more so now. “Keeping tabs on me, are you?”

There’s mirth trickling into his voice, giving it a familiar smarmy lilt. A wave of emotion washes over you. Embarrassment and heart-twisting-happiness. You shove some rice into your mouth and chew it down to fine paste, vying for time to formulate a coherent sentence. “No. I read about it in the latest Volleyworld issue,” you reply unconvincingly.

“You don’t read Volleyworld”.

“How would you know that?”

Tsukishima takes a shallow breath and nods. The warm gloam of late afternoon mellows his taut features. “I’ve been reading too,” he says after another sip of wine. “I saw you finally published your book”.

Dread seized the inner workings of your mind and the apology on the tip of your tongue curdles. Time ticks by, one sickening second after another. Your eyes dip low to avoid his gaze—which for some reason, he refused to direct anywhere else.

Your recollection of the break up itself was hazy at best. There had been no raised voices, no desperate movie-esque kiss, no slammed doors. Only grief filling your body like lead, and jumbled, half-hysterical thoughts of ‘Is this it? Are we giving everything up, just like that?’

You remember everything that followed, though. The inability to accept reality. It is said if a writer falls in love, that love can never die. And so you kept writing, and writing, and writing; perceiving love through different lenses, creating different endings; relying on metaphors of natural forces and disasters, of cannibalism and gluttony, of journeys and patience to make sense of it all. Six months after everything fell apart you completed the final draft of ‘The Vanishing Moon’, dedicating a final testimony to him in small print on the first page.

Given the choice, I would’ve rather had you at my side than any one of these words.

Has he seen it? Is that what he’s getting at? Did he read through all eighteen chapters and meticulously pick out the remnants of him you pressed between the pages?

“Noya said it made him cry,” you eventually reply.

Tsukishima signals for another drink. He takes two flutes from the server, handing one to you. You accept it with a soft ‘thanks’, hoping he didn’t notice the tremor in your fingers. “Nishinoya-san cried when he found out swans can be gay,” he points out.

“You cried at The Land Before Time”.

“What kind of cold hearted bastard doesn’t cry at The Land Before Time?”

Laughter bubbles up in your chest as the initial dread ebbs away and the tension seeps from your shoulders. Tsukishima dips his chin, a small smile as he mutters, “That’s better”.

In the centre of the hall Tanaka cradles Kiyoko in his arms, now surrounded by clusters of their loved ones whirling with their own partners, a hurricane of colour and laughter and love. Tsukishima observes them with a solemn gleam in his eye. That could’ve been us, his heart says in chorus with your own.

“Do you remember that time we danced together in third year, at the summer festival? I tried to kiss you and gave you a nosebleed”.

“I remember”.

Your gaze drops to the bottom of your glass. At the time you had been mortified. Now it’s a story you would share at your own wedding table. The thought cleaves your heart in half.

“Do you remember the song that was playing?”

“Why are you bringing this up?” Tsukishima snaps. “Yes, I remember everything. I couldn’t forget even if I wanted to. Happy?”

There’s a surge of something devastating in your chest, like love and heartbreak all at once, strong enough that you feel as if your ribs might splinter just to make room for it. But they don’t—and you don’t, because you’ve felt this before, and your body remembers.

You remember.

Suddenly the room is too hot, and the music is too loud. “Sorry. I’ll be back in a minute,” you murmur, pushing your chair back and getting to your feet.

“Wait,” in one short breath there are long, calloused fingers circling your wrist. You do wait. Tsukishima hesitates, the pressure elevates, and as you lean away your palm slips into his, skin kissing skin. Then he’s standing, towering over you. “I’ll come with you. I know a place that’s quiet”.

Tsukishima does not let go of your hand, and you don’t let go of his. He walks a few steps ahead guiding you through the throngs of people. Some familiar heads turn, their attention drawn immediately to the place where your bodies meet, and shooting you various looks of encouragement or confusion. Yamaguchi sees you pass and his mouth splits into a grin so wide that his eyes crinkle.

You’re not sure where it is he’s taking you, only that his promise of finding quiet is true. The cacophony simmers and soon enough the festivities are muffled entirely. Just when you think you’ve wound up at the end of a corridor it curves, leading to a pair of french doors. “Come on,” Tsukishima ushers you out onto a balcony.

What you’re greeted by makes your breath catch. The world as it is around you comes to a standstill, the fabric of reality peeling away. An orange yolk dips below the horizon and the sunset hour drapes across the ostensibly endless meadow hidden behind the Karumai Gardens. Rolls of grass sway in the wind, peppered with wildflowers of every shade.

You move to stand at the balcony’s edge. Tsukishima drops his hand, and your fingers curl into your palm. The shadows grow longer, the air cooler. The evening insects begin to sing. You’re warmed still by the wine thrumming in your bloodstream.

“Hey, Tsukki?”

He comes to stand beside you, folding his arms atop the wall. “Don’t call me that”.

“Oh,” you swallow against the swell in your throat. “Sorry, Tsukishima”.

Tsukishima’s expression twists into a scowl. There’s a blush creeping toward his ears. “I didn’t mean that,” he says. You blink and wait for him to elaborate, which only flusters him further. He stares stubbornly at the border. “Just—call me as you normally would. Anything else sounds wrong in your mouth”.

The name leaves you in an instant. Hushed—not whispered, “…Kei”.

He makes an inquisitive noise, strangled as it is.

“You didn’t say what you thought of it,” you continued. “My book”.

You feel a rush of adrenaline when Kei doesn't answer immediately, unable to read his expression. “Good,” he says, veiled indifference belied by the restless twisting of a cufflink between his forefinger and thumb. “It was good”.

“Well, that’s practically a Pulitzer recommendation coming from you”.

“Shut up,” he huffed, gaze flitting across your face and dropping to your tentative, uncertain beginning of a smile. He wets his lips and glances away. Heartened, both by the alcohol and his reciprocation, you press closer in small increments, and Kei flowers under your gentle persuasion, like he always used to.

“This okay?”

In lieu of a reply you are ensconced by a warm, firm chest and two strong arms around your back that show no sign of withdrawing. The low timbre of his voice vibrates under your cheek, “Who was it for?”

“Hm?”

“The book. You dedicated it to someone”.

You exhale, squeezing your eyes shut. You’re glad, in part, that he can’t see the emotion written plainly on your face. “Nobody,” you answer lightly, angling to position your ear right over his beating heart. “Just an ex. You don’t know him”.

“Right,” Kei says, drawing out the ‘l’ the way he does when conceding a point he knows he’s correct about. It sounds so fond that you want to curl up where you’re resting, like some benevolent cat. “Guy must’ve been a dick”.

“I was too. We made a lot of mistakes, I think,” you say. If nothing came of this you would at least be able to revisit it; to pick at the scab and stop the wound from closing over too soon. There’s comfort in that. You crane your head and meet his gaze, nervous but unwavering. “But even if he was kind of a dick, I miss him a lot”.

“Yeah?” his eyes soften, half lidded and dark. “He misses you too”.

“He told you that, did he?” your mouth trembles. Kei dips to bring your foreheads together, and the hard frame of his glasses bumps your eyebrow. You share a shaky exhale of laughter.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, brow pinched with regret. Again, “I’m sorry. I know I fucked up”.

You feel your jaw quiver. The familiar burn behind your eyes. Tears so close you can taste them. “We both did. Don’t shoulder the blame on your own”.

“But I made you feel lonely,” he says.

You tuck your chin and whisper, “Yes”.

His fingers splayed across your cheek, pinky tucked beneath your jaw as he cradled your face in his hand, tilting until you’re staring back at the reflection in his pupils. Puffy and damp, eyelashes clumped with tears. What a sight.

Kei strokes his thumb in an arc beneath your eye. A tear beads on his nail, slipping into the crook of his hand. The inexpressible tenderness is overwhelming yet you are underwhelmed by the inaction. You can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed by the whine in your voice as you ask, “Are you going to kiss me?”

“Demanding as ever. What happened to ‘please’?” he murmurs. And then he kisses you.

It is slow at first, hesitant, leaving room for you to pull away. But with every languid movement of Kei’s lips came a sweet affirmation, that which you took and took until you no longer felt unworthy of receiving it. His hand flutters at your waist. You take a shuddered breath, pressing closer into his embrace and deepening the kiss. In his distraction you take him by the wrist, encouraging him to touch. There’s an immediate, reverent grip at your hip, kneading over your clothes.

This is what you’d been longing for. The feeling you couldn’t transpose; that which people have long tried to capture. The esoteric, giddy anticipation and joy that bubbled between two people on the precipice of something bigger than themselves. Even with an affinity for stringing words together you are scarcely able to describe it. Immense and overwhelming, light and dark, tender and everything in between.

Kei pulls away for breath with a low, vibrating hum, wearing a smile that you thought you’d never see outside of your memories. Almost boyish when he looks at you. The distance is an inch too many but it is just that—an inch. “Eager,” he teases, only to kiss you again, twice as eager.

For as long as you can remember, you’ve loved love stories.

But love doesn’t only exist in stories.

You remember that, now.

#hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #haikyu x reader

1K notes · View notes

ghouljams · 2 months

Note

Thinking about König again.. help

Kissing him could be so narratively(?) interesting if the hood stays on. It’s a situation where you have to come to him - his face is his territory, it’s gonna be on his own terms. And like,, not lifting the hood away, but lifting it so that you can put it over your own head also - kissing him under it. Allowing yourself to be consumed by the shadows kind of, but he is ‘the shadows’ in this metaphor. I bet he’d get off on that

I absolutely love kissing König through the mask, I think there's something incredibly tender and trusting about it. Not forcing him to lift it, meeting him where he is and not half way. It's the same reason I love when fics kiss Ghost through his mask. It's a level of understanding, an willingness to say "you don't need to change I'll meet you where you're comfortable."

That said, joining him under the mask to kiss him? Also so so good. Lifting the hood just enough to duck under, tipping your head with your eyes squeezed closed, König leaning forwards to keep you both obscured as he kisses you... There's something very... two becoming one in the gesture. Not just meeting him, but joining him.

There are so many ways a first kiss can go, so many ways the second will build off it, and so much more to the third. Here's Medieval king!König kissing his gardener for the first time(despite having fucked her multiple times before this)

It's a quick motion, one that seizes you when you least expect it. Something tender grabs hold of your heart, indescribable and unwanted, and you grab the bottom of König's chain mask to pull him down to your height. You press your lips to the skin warmed metal, hope he can feel the pressure at least of your mouth against his, and hold him there. There's a brief frozen moment, König stands more still than you've ever known him, held at the edge of breath with his hands curling into tight fists by his side. You pull away, still feeling the cut of metal against your lips.

And he grabs you, rips his mask up and pulls you against his chest as his lips meet yours. His mask falls against your head, weighing you down and forcing your head to tip back to meet the fervid press of his lips. It's not the first time you've felt the warmth of them, but it's the first time they've felt so wanting. The first time they've felt almost crushing with the way König pushes them against yours, and yet it is still painfully chaste. Painful in the way it makes your heart clench, and your stomach flutter.

There is so much you've done with this man, so many ways he's taken you, and yet he kisses you so plainly. He kisses you like he's never had the pleasure of kissing anyone, and you can't say you have either, but you'd expected something so much different from him. You'd expected domination, tongue and teeth. You'd expected that he'd be colder, that he'd treat you with the same arms-length respect that allows you to leave his chambers after each night you spend with him. Instead you find a man as warm as the sun that beats against your skin and, perhaps, as desperate as you are for such simple affection.

He pulls back, tilts his head, and kisses you again, gentler this time. His arms still hold you tight, still warn you not to try and escape, but his lips slide against yours with a softness that steals the very air from your lungs. König sighs against your lips, your own parting to kiss him a fourth and a fifth time. Your arms find their way around his broad shoulders, your fingers dig into the rich material of his cape, and he kisses you, like it's the only thing he's ever wanted to do.

So that when you part a final time, and his tongue traces along the seam of your lips, you find yourself smiling and feel his lips curve to follow suit. My König, you think.

"Meine Herz," König murmurs. You shake your head. It's rather silly getting fluttery over something so simple. König fixes his hood back into place, and tips his head, pressing his chain covered lips to your cheek. "I'll be good," He tells you, "and you will kiss me again."

As if that simple act were some great reward. Maybe it was.

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #König x oc #konig cod #konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #king!König #medieval au #oc: liebling

269 notes · View notes

hoenoredone · 10 months

Text

A TYPICAL DATE

tags: sfw, fluff, headcanons, enstablished relationship characters: gojo, geto, nanami, naoya, inumaki, yuuta, noritoshi

GOJO SATORU

cat café

he's a cat dad and you're never going to convince otherwise. because of his job it's quite difficult for him to keep a pet in the house, he feels too bad leaving it all alone for days at the time (do not worry, the ball of fluff would have an automatic feeder and a self cleaning litter). so he gets his fix at a cat café. it's perfect, really: he can pet all the cats, and you can eat and drink to your heart's content while seeing him all happy and giddy.

GETO SUGURU

dinner and a movie

he's a wanted simple man, he's perfectly content setting the table while you stir fry the meat he had left in the fridge to marinate for the whole day. he'd fry up some popcorn after dinner and drizzle them in butter and salt. he loves it when you rest your head on his shoulder, especially if the movie turns out to be boring. he lets you fall asleep and does his best not to wake you at the end of the film. when nanako and mimiko make fun of him the day after for carrying you to the bed bridal style, he can only smile and ruffle their hair.

NANAMI KENTO

petit pâtisserie

he has a sweet tooth, sorry i don't make the rules. he doesn't like sickeningly sweet pastries, but a french press coffee and a slice of opéra cake are perfectly within his taste. he watches you eat an english scone with strawberry-rhubarb jam and clotted cream and sip on your darjeeling tea as he listen to you talk about whatever is on your mind. he notices some crumbs on your lower lip and tries to discretely let you know, but you're too absorbed in your own world to notice. so he gently wipes them away for you and notices a slight blush dusting your cheeks.

ZEN'IN NAOYA

michlin star restaurant

it's really not a date, it's more of an interview. he doesn't date just to date, he dates to marry. he needs to be the perfect heir for the zen'in clan, he needs a wife and a child. so he takes you to an incredibly expensive restaurant and grills you with questions. at the start it's not the most pleasant experience, but as the date goes on (if you answer his questions correctly) he loosens up and lets you speak freely. he doesn't even realize it, but he feels like he has a lot to prove, so once he decides that it's worth it he orderes his favorite wine (coincidentally the most expensive one) and shoos the waiter away to pour you a glass himself.

INUMAKI TOGE

arcade

please he loves the pinball machines, literally spends hours on them. you take turns at the claw machines to try and win each other a plushie (that riceball looks just like him? how?) and lose almost three thousand yen. he watches you play a shooter game and gets playfully annoyed when you don't listen to his tips. almost spills his coke all over one of the machines when you finally win your first game of the night. he offers you karaage to celebrate and you almost choke on the sauce when he imitates the panicked face you had during the game.

OKKOTSU YUUTA

picnic at the dog park

can he pet that dog? can he please pet that dog?? you bring the food and a table cloth, and he brings plates, cutlery, drinks and two different brands of dog treats. you could swear he spends more time looking at the dogs run around and telling you all about the specific breed than actually eating. a big fluffy maremmano runs towards him and almost knocks the picnic table over, but yuuta is ready: he grabs a duck skin treat from his pocket and hurls it to the other side of the park, but not before having pet the dog's head and having called him a good boy.

KAMO NORITOSHI

japanese tea house

he enjoys the quiet of the tea house's garden because he's not a kamo there, just noritoshi. he used to be partial to sencha tea but you insisted on ordering something different every time, and he's glad you did because he's a creature of habit, without you he wouldn't have discovered he actually prefers hojicha tea over anything else. he lets you order whatever you want, from dango to daifuku, even dorayaki once, but warabimochi remains his favorite.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #geto suguru #geto x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #naoya zenin #naoya x reader #inumaki toge #inumaki x reader #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta x reader #kamo noritoshi #noritoshi x reader #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #headcanons

1K notes · View notes

bumblebeesfromvenus · 18 days

Note

some Leon fluff where maybe the reader is famous actress and is being discrete (trying to wearing a mask and a baseball cap) enjoying her day in public and bumps into him?

Alright, alright..

But what if we make it that Leon had no idea? 👀

(The title is a word play on Hollywood, you'll get it when you read the story, I promise)

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Holly-what?!🎬

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You needed to get out. The press tour had been dragging on for months now and the large amount of interviews and talk show attendances were starting to fry your brain.

You just needed a break to feel like a human again. No questions, no opinions, no fans. But being able to step a foot outside without being met by obnoxious paparazzi and their cameras or squealing fans. You loved them dearly, you did, but... you, too, had your limits.

You never expected to become this big, let alone work with a cast of such talented people. All you wanted was to do what you love, which, unfortunately, was acting. There were pros and cons to all things in life, but acting definitely tipped the scale into the negative side of things.

Sometimes, you missed the little theater you performed at, making good friends along the way and then going back to just being you again.

A curse and a blessing; two sides of the same coin.

With a breath, you stepped out into the city, keeping your head down. A cap sat on your a pair of sunglasses were pushed up onto your nose, a measly disguise, really, but you had to work with what you got.

You were craving for someone to look at you like a regular person and not like one whose face was plastered on every billboard in the area.

The more you walked, the more the tension faded from your drawn up shoulders. No one had talked to you yet, no flashing cameras in sight.

You were even as bold as letting yourself breathe for what felt like the first time in forever.

Your head was held higher now as you strutted through the bustling streets, perfectly content with just being ignored by everyone.

The weather was quite nice and you couldn't even remember when you enjoyed a simple walk like this. Securing yourself a refreshing drink from a little local cafe, you were on a mission to find a small botanical garden that was supposed to be lovely this time of year.

Your brows were furrowed as you desperately tried to make out which street you were on, the flyer that was starting to crease, not helping. You turned every which way and even looked for any signs, but you were unsuccessful.

Despite all your efforts, that stupid flyer was getting you nowhere. You had your nose buried in it, drink in the other hand as you just kept going straight ahead.

You'd end up somewhere eventually, right?

You did end up somewhere.

Running face first into what you thought was a wall, which turned out to be a tall man with the most gorgeous eyes you'd ever seen.

Your drink and the flyer were now splayed out on the floor and your cap was crooked on your head.

"Shit- are you okay?" He asked hurriedly, picking up the, now soaked, map and trying to salvage as much of your drink as possible.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good... are you okay?" You adjusted the cap, taking the flyer from him. He looked stressed to you, a crease between his brows.

"No, yeah, I just... had a long day, that's all." He chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. You hummed in acknowledgment.

"I'm sorry, I should've looked where I was going. The fault is mine." You apologized, holding onto the empty cup to dispose of it correctly once you spotted the next bin.

"Don't worry about it, no one was hurt." He smiled before his eyes widened at your empty drink.

"Sorry about your drink. I'll buy you a new one." He offered, although it came off more as a statement.

"Oh, no, please. You really don't have to." You chuckled, but he was already dragging you along with him.

"No, I insist. It's the least I can do." He said kindly, glancing at you with a small smile.

You were still so whiplashed from your run-in that you hadn't really registered that he seemingly hadn't recognized you.

He was treating you like he would any other person, and it made you crack a tiny smile.

"So..." he started, his hands shoved into his pockets as he led the way to the nearest place to get a drink, "judging by that god awful flyer, you're not from around here?"

You laughed at his true remark.

"No, I'm not. Just passing through." You hummed in response. He made a quiet sound of acknowledgment before there was a moment of silence between the both of you.

"Do you mind me asking what you were trying to find?" His question caught you off guard, your brows furrowing before they shot up again.

"Oh! I was trying to get to the botanical garden? The flyer said it's supposed to be lovely around this time." You smiled, trying to keep up with his pace.

Upon noticing your struggle, he subtly slowed down his waking speed.

"It is. I could... show you the way if you want?" His tone was surprisingly shy for someone like him.

"That'd be very nice....?" You slightly tilted your head, waiting for a name. His brows raised slightly.

"Oh, Leon. I'm Leon." He replied bashfully, a slight pink tint on his cheeks.

It made you smile, how such a strong and sort of intimidating man wasn't the best at social interactions.

You're doing great, buddy.

You gave him your name, your real name, without even thinking twice. Though, he still didn't seem to know who you were.

He hadn't even asked you about the odd cap and sunnies combo. A gentleman...

"Here we are." He announced, coming to a stop.

"I'll just get some drinks, and then I'll walk you to the garden. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect, Leon." You smiled, watching him walk into the cafe.

You waved at him through the window, which he happily reciprocated with a smile.

What a sweetheart.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The walk to the botanical garden had been simpler than you thought. So simple, in fact, that you now felt stupid.

"I can't believe I walked right past it!" You laughed, taking a sip of your beverage. Leon laughed, too, his blonde hair shining under the sun.

"In your defense, the entrance is a little hard to find if you don't know the city."

"Because there totally wasn't a huge sign plastered on the outside." You remarked, mentally face-palming yourself for missing such an obvious marker.

"Happens to the best of us." Leon smirked over the rim of his cup.

You grumbled a half-hearted fuck off with a smile.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

It was quite easy to stay in a conversion with him as you two walked along the winding paths lined by many different kinds of blooming flowers.

The air smelled sweet, and the buzzing of bees and other insects made up a delightful harmony that welcomed the summer.

You managed to spot some butterflies too admiring their colors and patterns as they fluttered from flower to flower.

Your drinks were now empty as you sat on a bench, sharing stories and laughing.

"Why all the.., you know?" Leon asked, loosely gesturing to your disguise.

You froze a little but quickly gathered yourself.

"I have... sensitive skin. And you know how harsh the sun can be. I have an event coming up, and I don't want to show up looking like a tomato." You chuckled.

"Fair point." He shrugged.

"What kind of event?"

You swallowed, feeling yourself sweat.

"Oh, just... a wedding. Yeah, a friend's wedding." You answered, followed by a tight-lipped smile.

"Oh, nice. Perfect weather." He hummed, absolutely not bothered by the obvious uncertainty and lack of confidence in your response.

You sat and chatted for a while until the sun slowly turned the sky into a beautiful painting of pink and purple.

But that's not what prompted you to leave. You didn't want to, in fact. It had been so nice to get away from everything.

Unfortunately, however, you caught the flash of a camera out of the corner of your eye.

Fucking paparazzi.

The flash slowly started to pick up as more and more people photographed you.

"Hey, Leon, do you have a pen?" You asked, shifting in your seat uncomfortably.

"Sure... why?" He questioned with a confused look, handing you the pen he'd pulled from inside his jacket.

You quickly took his arm and scribbled your number on his skin.

"Hey, what are you-"

"I had a lovely time, I really did. But I have to go now. Call me!" You rushed off, trying to make a discreet yet fast exit.

Leon was left dumbfounded sitting on that bench, wondering why the pretty girl he'd bumped into rushed off, followed by a mob of maniacs with flashing cameras.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The next morning came faster than he wanted to, still hanging on to that feeling of sitting with you in that garden.

He was bummed out, unsurprisingly.

Leon had made sure to write down your number on something more permanent, lest he forget.

He was sipping his usual morning coffee in his favorite cafe while reading the newspaper.

When he turned over the next page, his eyes almost popped out of his hand, and he choked n his coffee when he spotted a picture that was all too familiar on the front page.

Imagine his surprise when he read the bold headline above the photo of the two of you sitting in the botanical garden;

BREAKING NEWS: Oscar nominated actress spotted with new boyfriend.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I hope you liked it!! <3

More Leon here -> 💫

《taglist》: @vampkennedy @k-fallingstar @dmitriene @argreion @leonslittlekennedy @allysunny

Lkm if you want to be added! <3

#bumblebeesfromvenus #Fi answers 🐝#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #resident evil leon #leon kennedy comfort #leon s kennedy fluff #leon kennedy fluff

221 notes · View notes

onirique-amaranth · 1 year

Text

⎮Feeling you through these walls⎮

⏤ Characters: Simeon⎮Solomon⎮reader (separated)

⏤ Including: nsfw (-17)

⏤ Warnings: bottom/sub characters, top/dom male amab reader, use of fleshlight, dub-con, reader have dick piercing in Simeon's part, mention of sin and corruption.

⏤ Summary: After buying a fleshlight in a dubious sex shop, you certainly did not expect to enjoy that overly pleasurable and realistic toy to this extent.

⏤ 2.600 words

Part 1: Solomon & Simeon

✧ You met Simeon and Luke at the same time, for a short time though, as they were just staying in the Devildom for a few weeks.

✧ Having a crush on an angel wasn't the easiest thing in the world, especially when he had to go back to the Celestial Realm. The goodbyes were difficult, Luke cried softly into your torso before they really had to leave.

✧ You did not expect to be hit with a wet dream of Simeon the same night, waking us sweating and with a hard-on. Still sleepy, you couldn't remember what was the dream or how it ended, but you knew by how much precum was sliding down your dick, that it has been a good dream.

✧ In the state you were in, you knew it would be impossible to go back to sleep, even after taking a cold shower. Out of desperation and with the urgent need to relieve yourself, you opened the drawer and took the first toy that you found.

✧ Much to your surprise, it was one that you never used before. It was a fleshlight that you found in a dubious sex shop, in one of the darkest parts of the shop, and it was on sale, so you bought it but completely forgot about it.

✧ Observing it, you watch in amazement as the insides change shape, taking a whole new form, which was much tighter. You could remember that on the box, it was said to perfectly imitate the shape of the one you desired the most, who was obviously your dear and pure angel.

✧ The idea of doing something so unholy while thinking about an angel was awful, but you couldn't resist, giving in to the temptation and sin. He would never know about it anyway, right?

✧ Simeon was relaxing in the garden when he felt the strange sensation. He had to stop walking, touching his lower stomach with a curious and questioning expression on his face, another angel asking if he was feeling okay.

✧ At first, he was confused by the feeling, wondering what was happening, thinking that he perhaps ate too much, and it made him sick. But then, as the sensation became stronger in a certain place, it hits him, hard.

✧ Simeon was a virgin, he never touched himself, even though he was curious, and certainly never thought about doing it with someone. That was a lie… Since he went to the Devildom and met you, his thoughts were full of sin, his dreams were haunting his mind and pulling at the purest part of his heart.

✧ But now was not the time to think about it, he needed to figure out what was happening to him first. Simeon excused himself and ran to his room, closing and locking the door behind him, so he could not be found in such a compromising situation. He had no idea what was inside of him, but it was absolutely divine and showed a whole new world.

✧ As the movement became clearer, he recognized long and thick fingers, pushing against his walls, trying to fit another one despite his hole being so tight. He hated the fact that someone else than you was touching him, it gave him a chill of disgust, but he also could not stop the person doing this to him, so he closed his eyes and imagined you.

✧ Simeon was so close to crying, teary eyes making it impossible for him to see anything, he felt his body reject the touch. Until he was finally empty, he thought it was over at first, but something much larger pressed against his entrance. As the tip went in, the tears rolled down his cheeks, followed by a moan mixed with a sob.

✧ He was going to pray, beg for it to stop, until he felt it, the cold metal entering his body and scraping his walls. He recognized it in an instant, Simeon recognized you… For a simple reason, the dick piercings.

✧ During a conversation with Asmodeus, the Avatar of Lust couldn't keep to himself the last secrets he discovered or heard about. That's how he learned that the man accidentally walked into your bathroom while you were showering, and even more than seeing you naked, he discovered that you had dick piercings, more precisely, a lorum and a frenum. This newfound information about you never managed to leave his mind, and that's how he immediately recognized whose dick was penetrating him right now.

✧ It couldn't be just a coincidence.

✧ A spike of pleasure brought him back to the present, the feeling of being full was pervasive, foreign and yet so good. Simeon couldn't stop the embarrassing noises coming out of his mouth, the thought of you doing this to him was so lewd and good.

✧ He had no idea if you were intentionally doing this to him or not, but he was basking in the newfound sensation and pleasure anyway, unable to do anything but take it. His body and mind were begging for you, and nothing could bring him back to the good, pure, path.

✧ Simeon did not care as his wings turned grey, proof of sin and abandonment.

✧ Everything became too much, your thrusts, the feeling of being filled up to the brim while remaining empty, the last uncontrolled twitch of your dick inside his body, painting him as yours. Simeon came fast and all over his bed, not able to tell you to stop as you keep dragging multiple orgasms out of him, only stopping when you'll be satisfied.

✧ When you finally halted, Simeon was left with an aching cock, a numb mind and shaking legs, the ruined sheets taunting him. He glanced at his bed, noticing multiple black feathers circling him, but he could not bring himself to care.

✧ Without a word, he cleaned himself, cursing about his clothes being far too tight as his sensitivity was already too heightened. Cleaning the rest of his room, he sat down on his bed after looking in the mirror, understanding that it was over.

✧ It seemed like Simeon was going to come back to the Devildom much quicker than he expected, with a desperate need of an explanation, but also to make the urge at the bottom of his heart and lower stomach disappear.

✧ Solomon, such a wise sorcerer, calmly reading a book in his room after class, relaxing after such a long day. He was disappointed that you couldn't spend the afternoon with him, as you had to hang out with lower demons, and he decided to focus on widening his knowledge instead.

✧ You came back to your room a few hours after, dishevelled and shaking, your mind was an utter mess. While being out, you, unfortunately, got hit by a spell heightening your sensitivity, which lead you to come back to your room earlier than intended.

✧ Your day has been long and not the best one, you had already some pent-up frustration, and the spell only worsened your state. Because of this, you had to unwind everything, and release once and for all this frustration.

✧ That's when your eyes fell on this bag, placed in the corner of your room, completely forgotten. The item contained in this bag was bought weeks ago, but you never had the time to use it or even thought about it.

✧ You spent so much money on it, and it remained useless… perhaps it was the occasion to finally unpack it.

✧ Without another thought, you took it out of the bag, and the dark purple packaging, looking at the most realistic fleshlight you have ever seen.

✧ Rapidly cleaning it with water before squirting lube into it, you gasped as the opening closed suddenly as if trying to keep the fluid in. The insides were clenching around nothing, reacting to any touch or feeling, which was extremely realistic for an object like this one. Though, it was not surprising as you were in the Devildom, and demon of lust obviously existed.

✧ Curiosity got the best of you, and you couldn't help but plunge your fingers into it, marvelled by how tight it became. At first, you could not even move your fingers, feeling the plastic flesh clench and prevent any movement. The sensation was mind-blowing, and your patience was running thin.

✧ Not waiting one more instant, you were unbuttoning your pants and letting them slide down your legs along with your underwear.

✧ A few rooms away, Solomon's book hit the floor with a loud thud, echoing through the entire room. The sorcerer lurched forward in his chair, his hand touching his pants, not understanding how it could be dry while he felt his hole overflowing. Soon, another fluid was squirted into him, making his head slam back, a whine escaping his lips.

✧ Quiet gasps and moans flew out of his mouth, the feeling of being fingered open was overwhelming, he could only beg to the emptiness of his room to get it over with. At first, he was confused and wanted it to stop, but then the pleasure took over, and he could not help but spread his legs.

✧ It was oh-so frustrating, he could feel everything, how the fingers were curling up inside of him, hitting his most pleasurable spots, loosening up so perfectly. But also, while that fluid was spread inside of him, his hole stayed desperately empty, he could feel it but couldn't do anything, not even fuck himself back onto those experimented fingers.

✧ As minutes passed, he grew impatient, annoyed by how the fingers were playing with him as if he could not feel anything. It was almost as if he was not here, only his body and especially his ass mattered, not any other part of him was being touched. Humiliated, he had to start playing with his cock himself, hoping it would be enough to bring him to his orgasm.

✧ Too focused on getting himself off, he was surprised when you finally penetrated him. You can't even imagine how loud the whorish moan that left his mouth was, feeling your entire dick enter him in one push, without slowing down or stopping once. There was no time for him to get accustomed to the feeling of being forced open, only able to lean forward and take it like a good toy.

✧ The quick pace that was taken immediately broke his mind, each thrust was powerful and deep, hitting all the good spots that the fingers previously found. At this pace, Solomon was not even going to last five minutes, he was already out of breath and twitching uncontrollably when you started.

✧ On your side, you were amazed by how realistic the fleshlight was, almost as good as a real person. You moaned and groaned every time it would tighten up around you, the way it was clenching so violently sometimes after touching a certain stop or moving at a certain angle was lewd and delightful. A whine would get pulled out of your mouth when it would tight so much you weren't even able to thrust out, the hole desperately trying to keep you inside.

✧ As your mind gets clouded with pleasure, your thoughts went towards the one who's been driving you insane. Thinking about a certain sorcerer while masturbating was so humiliating, but it was too good to stop, especially as you felt yourself on the edge.

✧ You tried to convince yourself it was just a way to cum faster, that's all… It had nothing to do with your feelings for him, how tiny his waist was, how his thighs looked when he crossed his legs, how he would always press himself against you when he was tensed, resting on your lap when he wanted to catch up on his sleep, or…

✧ Solomon was the one you wanted, and not just a stupid toy.

✧ While you were edging yourself, Solomon came embarrassingly fast, not able to keep it in. His face flushed red when he saw droplets of cum wetting the pages of his book. Now, he would be unable to act as if it never happened, this mess would remind him of it forever.

✧ Unfortunately, he did not have the time to grab something to clean his precious book, as you already started to move again. This time, you were set on cumming without any more edging, only wanting to fill up that toy and then get to work.

✧ By the end of it, Solomon was sweating profusely, on all fours on the ground, cheek resting against the cold floor as his hands were holding his legs open. A small puddle of cum could be messily seen under him, while he also tried his best to not fall into it and dirty his stomach, the humiliation would be too strong.

✧ It was with trembling legs that he went to his bathroom, cleaning himself and the ground, not able to glance at the mirror from embarrassment. It took him some long minutes to regain his composure, but everything that happened always came back to his mind, so he went out to distract himself.

✧ That's when he walked in front of your room and decided to knock, knowing your joyful and friendly attitude around him would get rid of those thoughts.

✧ After the first knock, there was no reply, so he knocked again. He didn't understand why there was no sound, he knew you came back a few hours ago, he heard the door along with the distinct sound of your steps.

✧ Curious, he opened the door, only to find the room empty along with your bed, the sheets were thrown on the side without a care. Finally, he noticed the door of your bathroom being open, and the water of the tap running, as he came towards it, calling your name.

✧ Solomon certainly did not expect to see you half naked, with just a towel around your waist. And even less to find you with a fleshlight in your hand, full of cum and ready to clean it with water. He wanted to leave discreetly, until he saw you plunge your fingers inside the toy to get the fluid out, the sensation of being full again coming back full force.

✧ His legs shook and almost gave up under him, and he ran out of your room as fast as he could, slamming the door shut behind him. That's when he realises what really happened, it was not a stupid prank or spell that has been cast on him, he was being fucked open by you. Just the thought of it made his cock twitches painfully in his pants, and he ended up staying in his room the rest of the evening.

✧ Meanwhile, you were still oblivious to what happened. You did hear someone leave your room in a hurry and slam the door behind them, but you only expected someone to get surprised by your presence and run away to not get caught.

✧ The last thing you expected was to get a text from Solomon, as he was unable to face you yet, the embarrassment too strong for the poor sorcerer. Or, perhaps, he was still completely naked in his bed, fingers deep inside of him in the hope to feel that pleasure again, to no avail.

✧ The text he sent you was explicit, and you understood instantly what he was talking about.

→ “Next time you buy a magical item, come to me first.”

→ “Also, warn me the next time you use it, I don't want to be teased like this during classes.”

→ “… I am free this evening if you are perhaps interested.”

⏤ Thank you for reading! I wish you a great day.

⏤ here is my masterlist & ko-fi ⏤

2K notes · View notes

keelt9 · 26 days

Text

Chapter 1

Masterlist

I collapse on the couch, letting my bag crash on the floor, taking a slow breath; all the walls have the same color, a creamy yellow, basic furniture already set, the only thing out of place is my suitcases… and me.

The apartment is a few blocks away of the rehabilitation center; Liam, my coach made all the arrangement for I just focus in my recover, in a couple of days we met the physiotherapist, a renowned one, Anton Guille, after a deep researched of the coaching team, he stand out as the best option for help me get through my injury.

The weather here is kind of cold, but I guess it is normal for the end of the winter, and fits perfectly with my morning. This day in particular it’s cloudy so before I leave the apartment I try to put on my hoodie.

Like a chronometer exactly after 30 minutes of his text Liam knocks the door, I rush for open as I try to put my hoodie on, just my head is in, and my shoulder is reluctant to move.

“Here, let me help you.” Liam said as he enters helps me to roll it down. “Bad day?” He asks me if I feel more pain than usual.

I grab my bag, and shake my head. “No, it’s…the painkillers are taking their time for work.”

Liams has that concern expression all over his face.

“Let’s go, or we'll be late.” I cut that thought by grabbing the keys and walking to the door, hearing him bluffing about something.

The center has those classic motivating colors, blue, green and white. As we walk to the room I keep watching different kinds of athletes training, doing rehabilitation, some with painful expressions, others with exhausted looks, and few of them with proud eyes.

We didn't have to wait because just after we closed the door, it opened again. This time, a tall man appears in sports clothes, probably in his early 30́s.

“Hello, you must be Y/N.” He walks and shakes my hand. “I’m Anton, I heard great things about you. Let me see what we are facing.”

Anton examines me with a long hard look, just with the simple touch on my shoulder I feel a hell all over my body.

“Well?” I asked him as he softly laid down my arm, he took a few notes and sat in front of us.

“It’s a severe bursitis; my biggest fear was that the damage already reached an important muscle but we are on time to avoid it.” The shoulder bursitis it’s a type of injury that used to happen for the excessive use over the shoulder, small “bags”, called <bursas> swelled up causing pain and stiffness.

I guess my expression must be talking for me because he takes a deep breath and smiles. “Don’t worry Y/N we will work harder and in a couple of months you must be brand new.”

Days passed and Anton along with Liam set a new routine for me, some changes in my daily activities and a lot in my exercises; some days I feel my body exhausted, others in a constant pain, slowly feeling my shoulder start to gain more range of movement.

“Easy Y/N, take it with calm, it’s the first day with this, don’t pressure your body.” The internal rotation stretch will help me to improve the rotation of my shoulder. Who will think grabbing a towel will be the most painful thing I do in months.

“Ok, slowly, that’s it, well done.” Anton helps me to relax my shoulder. “It’s all for today Y/N, go home, rest, sleep well, we see you tomorrow.” Liam gave me the last instructions before I went out.

I walked to the small garden the center had where a few athletes usually take their time for rest after a long session or just looking for fresh air. I checked my cell phone, stopping in the video of my team in our daily practice, even though they told me I shouldn't be sad; I can't avoid that nostalgic feeling. I was so distracted in the video that I didn't notice when my bottle of water slipped from my legs and got stuck between the crystal doors.

“Great.” I whisper, knowing that pulling it out will be a hard task. I slowly sit on the floor next to the door, seeing the wall across the garde, I stretch my left arm feeling with the tip of my fingers, the bottle not being able to grab it.

The irony of my situation makes me bluff, the only way to reach it is to twist a little bit my chest to give my left arm a few more centimeters, and grab it; as I do I feel a stabbing pain in my right shoulder. I grab the bottle but the pain is consuming me that the bottle slips one more time from my hands rolling through the floor.

I stand grabbing my shoulder but my bottle is already in front of me. “Here.”

“Thanks, sorry I’m clumsier than usual.” I grab the bottle, by the time I raise my sight his face looks familiar, but the pain clouds any coherent idea.

“Injury?” He points to my bracelet, a sign that I'm in rehabilitation. Everyone who gets in the center and is there for rehabilitation gets one.

“Shoulder bursitis.” He lends his head and pouts his mouth, I explain to him what is, he genuinely listens all the time.

“Sounds painful, still seems you're dealing really well.” I don’t know if it was sarcasm or a compliment.

“I have to, if I want to be ready.” The Archery World Cup Team Event will be next year. If I want to be there I must be with my team for the primary competitions.

“Hey Max, let’s go.” He observes that the person was at my back before extending his hand.

“I’m Max, by the way.” I took his hand and shook it. “I guess I’ll see you later.” I nod to him before he leaves the garden.

Late at night in bed my mind with painkillers working, my mind clears. Tall, blue eyes, a curious face, blue cap with the logo of Red Bull, name Max.

DAMN IT!

#fic #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #max verstappen imagine

86 notes · View notes

astrids2th · 2 months

Text

Kiss me, kill me, touch me.

Ilsa Faust x Fem!spy!reader

summary: In the clandestine world of espionage, Ilsa and Y/N find themselves entangled in a dangerous game of love and betrayal. Bound by duty yet drawn to each other, the two spies must navigate a treacherous landscape where trust is scarce, and secrets are deadly. Will their love conquer all, or will loyalty tear the lovers apart?

Warnings: Smut, !minors DNI!, oral, fingering, lots of kissing, violence, guns, also !men DNI!, fluff, a bit of angst and a tiny bit of homophobia.

A/N: Btw sorry for my bad English, it isn't my first language. Enjoy <33.

Love is not a simple thing. That is a fact that is very famously and universally agreed upon. It is a dangerous, complicated, and tender yet cruel thing. Like a flower. A deadly flower, which can look oh so beautiful, sitting in your garden, and yet it spurs poison if you were to touch its tender leaves.

Ilsa was your flower and your poison. A drug which you couldn’t get enough of. And you were hers alike. Poisonous, yes, that was probably the most fitting word to describe the love which you shared. A relationship, that if it were to be revealed and publicized, its beautiful toxins would burn down not only your own livelihoods and occupations as spies, but also that of the people closest to the both of you, though you didn’t have many of such people. This was a deadly field to work one, one filled with mines hidden beneath every step of the way.

Oh, but how good it would feel to burn. To let the world see you both and the love you shared.

on the rare occasion that you got to go to witness the wedding of one of those few close friends mentioned earlier, and you got to see them basking in the joy of a love which was not looked down upon by society, and by everyone for that matter, you caught yourself falling down a bitter hole of jealousy.

“Till death do us part,” you would hear them promise, and you would roll your eyes covertly. No. Ilsa, Ilsa you would love even through death and hell. Through the burning fires and the glares of society. She would be yours, and you hers. Sometimes it even seemed as though you would love each other to death. You would regularly be sent to each other’s doorsteps with a gun in hand provided by your superiors and your agencies, of whom you were both the best which said agencies could offer. The best spies on each of your sides.

If you were to do the counting, then this would be approximately the fifth time this year that Ilsa Faust had attempted to kill you. And it was only still May. So still counting.

You gently tip-toed through your apartment, warm morning sun glowing through your dusty glass windows, windows that should have probably been changed out years ago, but this wasn’t exactly an expensive apartment either, so you had no right to complain. And in any case, the blurriness of the light which did manage to fight its way through the old glass had its charm, you supposed. It was old and antique in a way that it became a style of its own, and as the gentle smell of chamomile began wafting through the air, signalling the readiness of your tea, it all made sense together.

Vapour rose from your tea stained and decorated cup, flowers coating the, at some point, white porcelain cup. Though after several turns in the dishwasher alongside all your other cutlery and tableware, it had an almost yellowish tint to it. But it made the cup no less charming.

And picking up your cup, you warmed your hands on it appreciatively, and went to take a set on your couch.

Or at least that was what you would have done. But your movements were halted when a whipping like sound lashed across the room, accompanied by the delayed bang of a window being crashed, glass crackling and exploding across the room. Sharp shards of glass were hurtled over your carpeted floors, embedding themselves into the soft wool of the rug and threatening to pierce your bare feet if you were to take another step. You almost fell back as the culprit of this chaos darted past your face, before lodging itself into your flowery wallpaper. A bullet. You could see it even from where you had stumbled back to, back pressed against the wall, and your cup still in the palm of your hand.

It was small, metal. British design, clearly, you could deduct that from the rim on the back of the bullet. Which was the only part of the bullet you could actually see because the rest of it had practically planted itself in your thick walls, like a little tree stump just sticking it. Judging by the information that you had collected, it was quite easy for you to deduct just who this assassin was who had so clumsily tried to execute you in the early hours of such an otherwise peaceful morning. And you carefully went to tuck on your slippers, as to not ruin the soles of your feet with any of the glass shards which stuck out of the carpet like thorny shrubbery in some forest.

And you walked to your shattered window, unclasped the hinges, and then pushed it open with a small clack.

“You missed,” your voice called out mockingly to the person laying just a street away, on the rooftop of the opposing building, just a story lower than your own apartment complex. The woman, laying flat down on her stomach with a riffle positioned in front of her, gave a small, easily missed smile, and lifted her head up before slipping off the eyepatch which covered her unused eye. The one she didn’t use for aiming. “I missed on purpose,” Ilsa replied in a voice meant to sound serious, although it had an amused undertone to it that anyone of you would have easily missed.

“Of course you did. All a part of the big master plan, huh?” You teased her candidly and used the palm of your hand to nonchalantly brush off any pieces of glass which were still littering your windowsill from her attack earlier. You knew she missed on purpose; she always did. Even if she was well aware of the consequences that her failure to kill you would give her back at the British headquarters, she would never genuinely aim to kill you. Even if her brain wanted and tried to. Just a little slip of the hand, that was all. A little, entirely purposeful slip of the hand. You leaned forward on the windowsill, arms resting on the wood. “Are you going to give up or try again? Second times the charm, or third, or whatever.” You shrugged and lifted your still unscathed cup to your lips, to sip your tea.

“Depends,” Ilsa replied, dropping her eyepatch to hang loosely around her neck instead on the black string which had earlier been clasped around her hair. “Are you going to stop being a commie asshole?” She then continued, smirking down at you from her perched position on her rooftop, just a foot or so above you. You could see her getting comfortable up there, gloating down at her as always with a playful smile. Her blue eyes shimmered, making you shake your head with a scoff. “I work for a communist organisation, that doesn’t necessarily make me a communist myself. Not entirely,” you replied and put down your tea. Yeah, the KGB didn’t exactly have the best of reputations amongst any other organisations in, well any part of the world. But you didn’t exactly have many options either. You turned around and gestured to your apartment, “and I mean, look at the nice apartment they gave me. If you’d just quit shooting holes in my wallpaper. I’m too lazy to replace it.”

The British agent didn’t reply and instead lifted her riffle and shot off another bullet, letting it swish just past your head and into the wallpaper behind you, nicely placed just besides the other bullet. An exaggerated sigh left your lips as you turned to examine her artwork on your wall. Glass shards and ruined wallpaper. And you then looked back at her. “Meh, I suppose I’ll have to go buy a cheap picture to cover it up or something,” you muttered and sipped your tea once again.

“Then I suppose I’ll have to shoot that up as well,” Ilsa replied casually. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Watch me.” She maintained a steady eye contact with you as she spoke. Her blue eyes would surely mesmerise millions if she wished to do so, and her lips…

“You’re just avoiding having to shoot up me now, aren’t you?” You teased her and looked back at her with mirrored intensity, trying to match her controlled expression. But the light did shine through the cracks, in both your faces. It was almost impossible to hide. Both of you were walking, talking killing machines who had vowed to serve your countries no matter the cost, you had both vowed nothing else but loyalty. Like nuns when they vowed to love nothing but god, well your gods were your agencies. And they were such cruel gods indeed.

“I wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty face of yours.” She replied, her tone a bit softer, so faint in fact that you wouldn’t have even been able to hear it hadn’t it been for the fresh winds which carried her sensuous voice down to you on its breeze. “Why don’t you come down and kiss it instead then?” was your candid reply, and there was no hesitation behind it. The words fell from your lips as easy as a coffee order, except you were calling for a war and not a medium double espresso shot. Though that was almost what she was, when it was just her, and not duty as well. A shot of espresso, bold and strong, always there to wake you up when you fell out of line.

The woman smiled and shook her head with a chuckle at your bold statement. But the smile on her face was a genuine one. Her gear was quickly packed away and discarded in an almost dismissive manner, she had never intended to use it properly anyway. It was never her intention to kill you. It never was and it never would be.

Slowly, she crawled down the side of the rigid building. It was soviet built. So, there was practically no space in between the two opposing buildings regardless, so Ilsa could easily make the small jump from one building to the other, with her nimble and athletic build easing the troubles of making the move. And as she leapt off the slim ledge, you were there to catch her. Always. With your arm outstretched from your window in an offer for her to grab onto, which she did. The British agent’s strong hands gripped your own, holding herself in a safe spot from falling while you hoisted her up and in through the window with no difficulty. She pushed herself through the last way and stumbled in besides you, your arms there to keep her from falling onto the still glass infested carpet which she herself had been the cause of. Her gaze met yours, her lips painted with a cheeky grin. “Now, you’re not going to try and choke me or anything, are you?” She asked sarcastically and leaned into your hold a bit, still smiling. “Not unless that’s the kind of stuff you’re into. Who am I to judge,” You reply with a teasing shrug, and she gently shoves you with a scoff, earning a laugh from you.

You’re then hastily pushed against a wall, all air leaving your lungs as she pins you against it. You make no move to stop her or put up a fight. You let it happen. Her hand reaches up to caress your soft cheek, an almost relieved sigh escaping her as she feels your skin beneath her cold fingertips. The chilliness of her long-awaited touch easily earns a shiver from you, your own hands coming up to gently feel up her neck. “I missed you…” You whisper breathily while she slowly edges her face closer to yours, lips parting as you breaths meets, warm sighs hitting each other’s faces. “Of course you did, darling…” She whispers back, and before you even manage to reply, her lips are crashed onto yours in a bruising kiss, lips locking. It instantly draws a surprised moan from you, tense body easing into it and your eyes closing.

She does the same, and you quickly feel her tongue demanding entrance, teeth nipping at your lips in an attempt to get you to open up, and you do so willingly, parting you lips and letting her tongue slip through. You both deepen the kiss, tongues clashing together, heartbeats in your ears and your faces feeling hot. You suck on her tongue, making her gasp and grip your cheek tighter, free arm snaking its way around your waist to pull you closer. Your own hands go to wrap around her shoulders and hold onto her, one hand pushing into the roots of her tied up hair. In between kisses, you both have to free your lips from each other as to not be suffocated in the passionate kisses, and even in those moments you remain interlocked, arms around each other and foreheads pressed together while you pant for air.

Clumsy hands fumble around each other’s bodies as you both crave more, hers pulling and tugging at your loose T-shirt, the same shirt you had woken up in and slept in, while your first instinct is to pull out her hair tie and release her long, cool brown hair, a moan escaping from you as you succeed and her hair falls, cascading down her back, allowing you to burry your fingers in it. She whines lightly, as she is too shaky to successfully pull off your shirt. This earns a smile from you, and she instead pushes down your shorts, one hand slipping to your inner thigh. You gasp and then retract a hand to instead place it on her shoulder, before gently beginning to nudge her backwards. Without protest, she inelegantly stumbles backwards in answer to your advances, and she eventually feels the couch behind her. “Lay down.” You demand breathlessly, pushing at her until she falls backwards.

You both have to part as she moves backwards, situating herself on the languid couch, her eyes following you as you move alongside her. Her captivating blue eyes are gazing up at you, your own eyes staring dreamily back at her as you hover above her, her hand once again finding your inner thigh and caressing the sensitive skin there while you slip off her shirt, leaning down to kiss at her chest which is slowly revealed until the shirt is entirely discarded and tossed across the room in a disregarding manner. She gasps and arches her back when she feels your lips on her skin, and you reach up to grab her hips and hold them steady while you tilt your head and begin to nip at her skin, each time discovering a new sound that Ilsa could make. And each time, your tongue darts out to soothe the bite mark before moving on to do it again.

Slowly, all clothes are pulled off and thrown to be forgotten somewhere in your living room, leaving only two women in their undergarments. While you continue to work on her neck, Ilsa has the clarity of mind to reach around your body, nails trailing along your skin making you shiver, before they reach your bra clasp, and she unlocks it before dropping the black lace bra to the floor, a gasp escaping her at the sight of you. Your perky breasts, nipples hard and begging for her attention. Something which Ilsa happily obliges to, her hands moving to your waist where she pulls at you, beckoning to move up a bit, which in turn allows her to wrap her hungry lips around one of your nipples. You gasp, the sound followed by a desperate moan while all your resolve falters at once, causing you flounder and fall slightly above her. But she keeps you steady while her tongue twirls around your hardened nipple, other hand going to message the opposite breast, making sure to be attentive to both of them. Your mouth falls open and you swear you could fall apart entirely just at this.

You lift your knee up roughly, pushing it in between her legs and against her soaked core, causing her to yelp and bite down slightly on your nipple. You mewl in partial pleasure and partial pain, hands moving to fist her hair while she begins to grind down hard on your knee, begging for a release. The sounds of your passion is resounding through the small apartment, and you push back her head harshly, making her let go of your breast with a small pop and a reluctant groan, and you soothe her disappointment by leaning down and connecting your lips in a short and passionate kiss, before pulling apart and beginning to slide down her warm body. You lean in and biggin kissing your way down Ilsa’s stomach while she squirms beneath you, her hands reaching for your locks of hair as well, while your own hands move to trail down her body. “Y/N, please,” She pants and gazes down at your flushed face before letting out a whimper and leaning back her head, gripping at your hair, and earning a pleased sigh from you. “Spread your legs for me,” you then demand in answer, your voice soft and breathless, eyes following her as she does as you say. Your own hands move to aid her, and you grip her soft thighs, massaging the soft flesh while you keep them apart, your eyes now falling upon her beautiful centre. A smile spreads on your face as you lean in to gently fan your warm breath over the sensitive muscle. “Is this all for me?...” You ask in a teasing voice, and before Ilsa even manages a proper answer, your tongue is on her, licking a stripe up her wet lips, making her gasp and throw back her head in a moan while she desperately tries to push your head closer into her cunt. You oblige.

Immediately you get to work and move your head in closer, kissing and nipping at her sensitive folds, earning multiple pleased sounds from the British spy, accompanied by unintelligible shouts and praises as she grips onto you and quiver under your ministrations. And as you continue working her, Ilsa’s legs move to wrap around your neck, thighs pressed against your shoulders, almost suffocating you. But you don’t mind, far from it, you take it as encouragement and you push in your tongue, making her scream your name. And you pick up your pace, one hand moving to press on the sensitive nub just above her slit, and you press down, moving your fingers in circles while you thrust your tongue in and out of her. The sounds you rip from her only egging you on to move faster, deeper, and more passionate. You are almost out of breath, choking on her sweet pussy when you move to push in the finger at her nub as well and she convulses above you in pleasure as you thrust in and out of her at an even more intense pace.

“I’m gonna cum, Y/N, please, I’m so close!” Her pleading only gets her so far and you smile into her center while continuing your movements, ripping into her pleasurably, until she eventually falls apart. Ilsa’s body shakes and quakes beneath you, but you hold on to her roughly and fuck her through the orgasm while her eyes roll back, seeing stars and feeling nothing but your tongue and finger deep inside her. she cums hard on your tongue, and you waste no time licking it off her, you wont let a drop go to waste. The woman’s shouts and moans of ecstasy don’t die down as she is driven off the edge in a violent crash of love and pleasure, her body sweaty and hot beneath your fingers, and it takes a good couple minutes before you finally pull out off her, sucking off your fingers while she heaves for air on the couch, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace, head still lolled back in a blissed out manner. It brings an amused smile to your face, seeing the deadly spy in such a position, beneath you and shivering from the pleasure you just brought her. and you bring your free hand to her chin, tilting her head back to look at you, “Y/N…” She breathes out in a longing tone, and you nod at her, “right here with you,” your tone is gentle and caring in a way that was so strange to hear from a spy who usually spends her time killing without a second thought. With her you were someone else entirely, and with a genuine smile, you lean down to plant a loving kiss on her now swollen lips, a kiss that she returns clumsily. A kiss much more caring than the passionate ones you shared before before.

Ilsa sighs, coming down from her high gradually and comfortably as she brings you closer to her, almost as if she were scared you might slip through her fingers and disappear. “I’m gonna have to explain to my boss why you still aren’t dead once I get back, you know…” She murmurs into the sloppy kiss, and you simply hum in reply, “I’m sure we can make something up.” You nonchalantly shrug on your shoulders while shifting your body to lay down on the couch along with her, limbs entangled with each other as your bodies both seek each other’s warmth. A small chuckle leaves her lips, one which could be mistaken for a simple amused laugh, but you could clearly recognize the somber undertones. How you wish it would just be a simple happy laugh, how you wished to see her at peace. But this field of work that you were both in, it was never at peace. That was the harsh truth.

“I swear, you’ll get me killed one of these days, you idiot…” She whispered softly, and you knew that she meant it with all the love in the world. And yet you were afraid that one day she would be right, and the thought made you pull her a bit closer, sighing against her smooth skin. “Idiot spy…” She then added in a murmur and leaned her head into the crook of your neck, nuzzling against your skin and closing her eyes. Idiot spies who were digging their own graves. But… You supposed it wouldn’t be so bad after all. As long as you could share that grave. Together.

#rebecca ferguson #rebecca ferguson x reader #ilsa faust #ilsa faust x reader #mission impossible #ilsa faust x you #rebecca ferguson x you #lesbian #wlw #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #oneshot

93 notes · View notes

wild-jackalope · 7 months

Text

summary :: after having received an owl from Sebastian asking to meet, you prepare for an adventure but are pleasantly surprised by something else.

note :: requests are wide open

“I see my owl reached you well.”

“I came as soon as I could, are you alright?” Your jogging slowed as you reached Sebastian. With the lack of details in his note, you assumed had the worst.

Sebastian had sensed this and made a mental note to specify no danger next time, if there was to be a next time. “Yes, everything’s alright. Don’t worry.”

You puffed a relived sigh. “Oh thank Merlin.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stress you.” This was not a good start.

“So, what did you need me for?” You returned.

“Well,” he stood straight. “I thought I’d show you something rather interesting.”

“Right.” Cautiously, you retrieved your wand. Sebastian had only chuckled. He really needed to spend more time with you without imminent danger nearby.

“Lumos.” As Sebastian’s wand tip brightened, four candles drifted into sight.

“A charm?” You questioned, to which Sebastian shrugged playfully.

“We’ll just have to find out, I suppose.” His tone left no absence of trickery and you found yourself cautiously smiling. What was he up to? “Ladies first.” He gestured forward.

Lifting a brow at him, you casted lumos and stepped ahead. The candles began to drift and you gave Sebastian another look before following them.

The two of you walked in silence. You keenly aware of your surroundings and watching for possible danger whilst Sebastian watched your back, literally. He watched your hair bounce and your school coat lift in the wind. He was notorious for being unable to keep his eyes off you.

As you turned the last corner, more candles joined the four you had followed. They had rested over two white garden chairs and a table. The small flames delicately washed the area with light. It was utterly romantic.

“Sebas-?”

He’d already approached the chair and table, pulling out one seat and nodding for you to sit in it. You did and he sat adjacent to you. “Now, I know this isn’t quite a meal, but I managed to snatch these from the kitchen.” From a pocket within his cloak, Sebastian retrieved two muffins, sliding one to you.

“I don’t- thank you. I don’t quite- what is this?” You flustered.

“I thought I’d do something nice. For you.” He shifted. “Since you’ve been such a help to me, and Anne.”

“Oh, Sebastian.”

“And I figured it was about time I took you somewhere with no tombs or caves.”

You weren’t sure exactly how to respond. A simple ‘thank you’ didn’t do justice to the excited burning you felt in your chest. You couldn’t just say ‘thank you’ not after he’d gone to all this trouble! “Thank you.” You squeaked. Looking down at the muffin he’d given you and began to pick off small bits, eating them.

“I suppose this would be a better time than any to catch up. So, what have you been up to?”

“Just keeping up really. Finishing extra assignments and whatnot. I’ve recently been getting friendlier with some beasts, thanks to Poppy.”

“She’s quite the personality, isn’t she?” Sebastian commented.

“Yes, she’s very sweet.” You smiled to yourself, thinking of the brunette. “What of you? Making any friends other Ominus and I?”

“Was that a criticism?” Sebastian smirked.

“Merely a observation.” You shrugged playfully.

“Unfortunately not. I’m afraid the two of you take up too much of my time. If I made another friend, I’m sure they’d be horribly neglected.” You laughed and Sebastian brightened at the sight.

“I suppose if getting this kind of treatment means you having less friends, I’ll just have to keep you all to myself.”

“You could.” Sebastian returned. You choked on a bit of muffin.

“Pardon?”

“You could, have me all to yourself I mean. More often.” He repeated.

“Is that so?”

“It is indeed.” Sebastian leaned further down the table, viewing you with excitement.

“Sebastian, I know you didn’t take me out here merely as a thanks for my efforts.” You leaned forward too. “Care to tell me why we’re really here?”

“If you must know.” Sebastian began, tone giving way to a loving mischievousness. “I suppose I’ve got something of a confession.”

Oh dear. Here it comes. You sat up, preparing yourself. I’ll say yes, you thought.

“Will you- be my partner for the duelling championship tomorrow?” He asked.

“Yes I- what?”

Sebastian could only laugh. You felt your cheeks become hot and a wave of embarrassment hit you. Suddenly, it wasn’t so cold anymore.

You excused yourself from the table and stood. Sebastian followed quickly. “Oh come now, I was only joking.”

“Sebastian.” You sighed.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You could hear his smile. Cautiously, his hand pressed into your lower back, then hooked your hips, bringing you into him. “I’ll make it up to you. How about we do this again?”

Oh how good it felt to be strung along by Sebastian. Just waiting for his fated confession. A sort of cat and mouse. Truthfully you knew of one another’s desire for the other but the chase was just too fun for Sebastian to ever settle down.

“Alright.” You caved.

#sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy

146 notes · View notes

lovewoonahyuck · 5 months

Text

[20:56] ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏɴɢ-ʜᴡᴀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀ ɢɪʀʟ

PAIRING: Jung Wooyoung x F!reader

GENRE: Fluff fluff fluff!!!

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

SYNOPSIS: Although your two sons were the lights of Wooyoung's life, you knew he always wanted a little girl for himself. What if his wishes finally came true..?

Jung Younghoon - 6 | Jung Min-jae - 4 | Jung Yong-hwa - fetus

It was the night, well a certainly special night - your husband's birthday. Well not just that but also, you had decided it would be perfect to have your gender reveal party just a month before your due date. And Wooyoung's birthday just seemed perfect.

You had rented out an elegant resort for the event, the whole garden was filled with beautiful different types of lights illuminating across the place. You had dressed yourself in a flexible pink dress, your huge bump popping out just like your husband loved it. All while he wore a hoodie which was the same colour as yours – pink – the reason was simple: Wooyoung was set that his third child would be a girl, due to which he had picked out and bought you a baby pink coloured dress too.

You knew Wooyoung loved your two sons more than anything in this whole world, they were the reason for his everything at this point – from waking up in the morning to make breakfast for them to going out of his way every time he was on tour to buy them disgustingly expensive clothes and toys – which he shrugged it off saying “They needed it.”

But his heart always longed for having an adorable baby girl, you knew Wooyoung always wanted a girl ever since you had first got pregnant. And after seeing one of his members – Jongho – have a girl too, his heart ached harder for a baby girl.

«“Mama! Look!”» You're pulled out of your thoughts, when your four-year old, Min-jae calls out for you. San had seated himself on the ground, a big bubble wand in his hand while his daughter and your son played with the bubbles. You smile heartwarmingly at your son when you feel a familiar hand intertwine with yours which were on your lap. «“You think it will be a girl?”»

Your head snaps towards your husband who took a seat next to you, «“Of course! You dressed us up in pink, Woo. And don't forget the amount of times you've kept telling me it's a girl during the whole pregnancy, and I believe in your gut.”» You say with a big smile on your face, chuckling as you remembered how he used to speak to your bump as if he knew it was a girl.

«“I mean, it could be a boy-”» Before he could continue his sentence you cut him off by pressing your lips over his. Just before you pull away, you feel his plumpy lips stretch in a smile. «“Stop overthinking, birthday boy, how about we cut the cake, now?”»

Wooyoung could only nod, but just as you were about to stand up from your seat, he leaned his face closer to yours, bringing your nose closer to his own. He nuzzled the tip of his nose against yours and you immediately burst out chuckling, knowing well he would do this.

Wooyoung had found odd comfort in doing that, and seeing that bright smile on his face, you had a relief every time he did that too.

Your husband held the knife in his hand, keeping it far away from your bump while his other hand held your waist. «“Ya! Jung Wooyoung, just cut the cake already, we're way too excited!”» Hongjoong's exclaim made a fit of giggles and laugh erupt through the little crowd.

«“Should we do a countdown?”» Yunho, who had dressed himself in pink from head to toe, suggested making everyone nod at the idea.

You noticed how Wooyoung's hand noticeably got shaky at every count, and immediately let your comparably small hand cover his, in order to soothe his nerves.

3! «“Ready?”»

2! «“Fuck yea!”»

1! It almost felt like time had stopped when you cut through the cake to be met with the sight of a pink coloured bread with pink cream and sparkles.

Loud cheers erupt from everyone and you are immediately pulled into Wooyoung's embrace. You look up at him to find tiny tears rolling down the corner of his eyes. «“I'm so happy, I-I can't explain it”» You tip-toe to press your lips against his skin as you kiss his tears away. «“Me too, Baby!”»

Your hug is soon joined by your toddlers, and you swiftly break-free from the hold. «“Mama! Appa! We're having a younger sister.”» Young-hoon exclaims in happiness, and Wooyoung is swiftly on his knees next to them. He immediately pulls them into a bear-hug, squishing them in his arms.

«“How about we go shopping for the baby's nursery tomorrow? We can get you your favourite toys you've wanted so badly too.”» As soon as your husband finishes his sentence, his request is replied with a loud series of ‘Yesyesyes’.

«“I can only imagine how much he's going to spoil this girl.”» Yunho speaks up behind you, while you had chosen to stand there to admire your little family. Your head perks up to look at the tall man next to you, «“You mean, Jung Yong-hwa?”»

You give him a sheepish smile as his eyes widen, «“Oh my god, you little shits have already picked out a name?”» You give him a small nod before adding, «“Keep it a secret though, I don't want anyone knowing, especially Hoon and Jae”» You say threateningly, for which Yunho winks at you, as he replied, «“I know how to keep secrets Y/n. For a fact, I knew the gender a day before.”»

You gasp in surprise at that, finally knowing why he was so confident it was a girl. «“Jeong Yunho, you-”» «“Mama!”» You look at the direction from where the sound had come from. And you find your six-year old beckoning you towards him. «“Alright, mama duty is on.”» Yunho jokes before going away, giving you your space.

«“Appa! What will we name the baby?”» «“When will we decorate her room?”» Your sons threw questions at your husband, who was gladly answering them all, while taking them back to their respective rooms in your house. You follow behind them, folding your arms over your bump while you stand at their doorway, leaning against the frame.

«“Mama! Can we say goodnight to the baby?”» Your six-year old asks, causing the other two to look back at your figure. «“Of course, my babies! Come closer.”» and soon three pairs of feet were running towards you, and little giggles filled the room.

«“Goodnight- whatever your name is, I hope you sleep well!”» You let out a snort followed by your husband's loud laugh at Min-jae's words. You did feel quite guilty for hiding the name from your precious sons, but unfortunately they had inherited their awful secret-keeping skills from their father.

Your sons were fast asleep when you and Wooyoung were back in your room. You were seated snuggly on his lap, with your head resting against his chest while your eyes stayed on the sight which was blessed to you by the huge glass windows. Wooyoung’s hand stayed Protectively on your bump. «“I love you so much, princess.”»

He whispers soothingly into your ear, his nose nuzzling against the crown of your head. «“Well you're going to have another princess, now”» You chuckle slightly, while leaning forward to peck his jaw. «“And I can't wait to see my other princess, too. I can't wait to give her the same amount of love and spoil her. Our little Jung Yong-hwa.”»

«“Woo”» after a few seconds of settled silence, you call out to him, to which he hums back softly. «“You think we're cruel for hiding the name from Hoon and Jae?”» You ask, to which he hums softly, before saying. «“But I'm sure they would love the name we picked out for their baby sister.”»

#ateez #ateez fluff #ateez dad imagines #ateez imagines #dad! ateez imagine #dad! ateez imagines #dad! ateez x reader #dad! wooyoung #dad! ateez #wooyoung x reader fluff #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung

119 notes · View notes

arthurlovesarthurmorgan · 4 months

Text

Captain Price comes home from deployment👀

F!reader

(smut, blowjob, thats it actually lol)

—————————————————————

You were patiently waiting for John to come back from deployment. He had told you that he’d be home at 7pm and time went on slower than anything. So you occupied yourself with doing work around the whole house. Putting all your dirty clothes from the hamper in the washing machine and then sorting them by color, going outside to the garden and watering all the plants, then going back inside and rearranging the bedroom and living room, scrolling on your phone to find new stuff to buy for your home, and so on.

As evening came around, you started cooking John's favorite food to welcome him with a warm meal and to finally give him something different than his usual MREs. You’re wearing a simple blouse that slightly shows off your cleavage and some jeans, and underneath all that, you’re wearing John's favorite lingerie that he bought you a few months ago. As you're cooking you don’t notice that it’s getting late and that John is going to be home in any minute.

You were startled as you heard the familiar sound of keys jingling in the lock and quickly ran to the front door to greet your husband.

“John!”, you were quick to give him a big hug and bury your head in his warm and solid chest, not minding the big duffle bag in his hands and his dirty clothes. He hugged you back and placed his hands on your waist to pick you up and give you passionate kiss on the lips, showing you how much he missed you. John kept slowly swaying you back and forth in his embrace and placing small kisses around your neck and breathing in your comforting scent.

“I missed you so much, love”, he murmured in between kisses. His head moved back up and he put his forehead against yours to look into your eyes. “What has my girl been doin’ while I was away, hm?”

“Nothing much. Just waiting for you, my bear”, you were staring at him, like it was the first time you have seen him in forever and went in for another kiss. You intertwined your fingers with his and lead him to the kitchen after closing the door and checked on the food, turning the stove down a bit. You turned back to John and gently pushed him, so he was leaning on the counter so you could put your hands on his chest and kiss his neck. “Missed me huh?” he asked in a teasing tone and placed both of his hands on your hips and slowly pushed the hem of your blouse up to touch your bare skin. “Needy little thing you are…”, he whispered into your ear and removed one of his hands from your hip to place it on your throat. Not choking you, but lightly cutting off your air flow, putting you in that hazy space and making your eyes flutter closed.

“Look at you baby, so needy for me, right?”, you nod eagerly and go down onto your knees and look up to see him smirking “There you go baby, such a good girl.”

You slowly unzip his pants, the sound echoing loudly in the kitchen. While pulling down his jeans and boxers and letting them pool at the floor, you notice his already rock hard cock leaking precum at the tip and you decide to lick it off just to hear John letting out a small groan. “I missed your mouth around me so much, baby. I thought of you everyday…”, he gripped your hair in his hands and lead your mouth to his throbbing cock. You look up to him while sucking him off and go as deep as you can, tears building in your eyes from holding back your gag reflex. The tears that managed to escape and running down your cheeks getting wiped away from Johns thumbs that are resting on your face. “That’s my good wife… go on, you can do even better than that, can’t you? I know you can sweetheart…”, you moan around his cock, the vibrations of it making him moan loudly. You’re forcing your throat to relax around him and then you finally have his whole warm length in your throat, your nose touching that small patch of curly hair at the base of his cock. “Fuuuuuckkk… good job honey, that’s it”

As you slowly bob your head on his cock and lightly graze your teeth on it, you feel his thighs start to tighten around your hands and small grunts and moans slipping out of his slightly parted lips. His balls start tightening and twitching and you use on of your hands to roll them around in your palm, “D-don’t stop baby-! ’m gonna c-cum!"

You take his whole length in your mouth for the last time and feel the telltale twitching of his cock in your throat and not even a second after that, he’s shooting his warm, salty and thick cum into your throat. John is a whimpering and moaning mess, relaxing against the counter as you swallow his cum and remove his softening dick from your mouth and stand up to give him a messy kiss, your knees wobbly from the hard floor.

“Welcome back John”, you whisper teasingly against his lips and smile, giving him one last peck on the lips before pulling up his pants and zipping them up.

“Thank you, love…”, he says tiredly. “No need to thank me, Captain Price”, you teasingly reply and giggle quietly and go back to the stove to finish cooking. He comes up behind you and places his head on your shoulder, turning his head to whisper into your ear,

“I love you, honey.”

“I love you too, John.”

—————————————————————

A/n: this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written so have some mercy please I know it’s shit😭😭 and english isn’t my first language btw so PLEASE ignore grammar mistakes and my horrible writing😁

#captain john price #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod john price #john price #captain price #john price x reader #john price/reader #captain price/reader #barry sloane #fanfic #cod mwii #cod #cod x reader #cod mw3 #cod captain price #cod captain john price

96 notes · View notes

notjustjavierpena · 9 months

Text

Ring

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: This is written for an anon who wanted to see Chucho passing on Javier’s mother’s engagement ring to his son. It just happened. It’s not very long, but it’s certainly made me feel so many things.

Summary: You meet Chucho Peña for the first time.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: brief mention of Javi’s deceased mother, tooth-rotting fluff, absolute delulu-land writer me, Chucho is a great father

Word count: 1.3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50101930

Ring

Javier looks at you as you lean back into the cheap garden chair on his father’s back porch, resting the tip of your beer bottle against your lips whilst finishing your sentence. Beside him, he can hear Chucho talking about the upcoming apple season and the need for a helping hand to make apple juice to sell at the stall by the road during September. You sound genuinely interested in a way that Javier never was himself.

He continues looking at you. There are flowers in your hair; three small, braided daisies resting behind your ear because you think it is cute. They are the result of getting here early. You had bent down to pluck them from the side of the road and said something about making an extra effort now that you are meeting his Pop for the first time, something about honoring the remains of Spring too. He had held back an embarrassing and vulnerable line about reliving Spring at its peak every time he spends time with you.

There are bows on your dress straps too, just like the day that he met you. They’re white to match the flowers, resting so prettily on top of your shoulders that he wants to kiss until you sigh softly with your lips resting in his hair.

“I’m your girl,” you say and the words snap Javier out of his trance, disappointing him when he realizes that they aren’t directed at him. You look around to prove your point, “This place is idyllic.”

“You’re certainly more enthusiastic than my son,” Chucho says with a glint in his eye, “Yet he never seemed to complain when his mother fattened him up with apple pies.”

Javier can feel his cheeks heat up in a mix of shyness and anxiety to hear his mother brought up, making him shift a little in his seat. He mumbles something snarky under his breath, but the visible embarrassment on his face earns him the privilege of you leaning in over his armrest to melt into him.

His father gives him a soft and knowing smile.

“I’m sorry to hear about your wife, Mr. Peña,” you give your condolences even if you know that it’s been decades.

“Thank you, mija,” Chucho replies.

“I do make a mean apple pie though, so maybe traditions won’t die out completely,” you add with a grin, and Javier’s arm comes around your shoulder. He holds you so tightly.

“You can use the kitchen someday,” he suggests, looking at his father who still sports that knowing look. They have a conversation without saying anything to each other, simply sharing a look of understanding.

“It would be my pleasure,” Chucho tells you.

When the night comes to an end, you excuse yourself to the bathroom before your drive home. You blame it on the beer, chuckling softly as you say something about alcohol making you piss four times in an hour, red in the face as you feel like you are verging on embarrassing yourself. Javier loves how simple everything is with you. No games, no facades, so yourselves around each other that it’s nauseating.

“She’s nice,” Chucho says when it’s finally only him and his son in the kitchen.

“Just nice?” Javier looks down at his feet. The two of them stand against the kitchen table, and Javier swears that he can feel the presence of his mother’s warm touch, hear her soft voice, and see her smile in the kitchen atmosphere. Nothing feels uncomfortable about the silence that stretches for what feels like a minute but is probably no more than ten seconds.

“Excuse me for not knowing what to say,” his father continues with kind teasing, “Lorraine was the last girl you brought over, and that went south quickly.”

“Pops.”

Chucho holds up his hands in surrender.

“I think this is it,” Javier then tells him with his stomach doing an unbelievable amount of somersaults, “I mean it this time. I can fe—“

“I know, mijo.”

“You know?” Javier finally looks up at his father.

“I see the way that you’re lookin’ at her,” Chucho elaborates and the teasing ceases, kindness only remaining, “I only had those kinda eyes for your mamá. She would have liked her too.”

Javier looks away. He clears his throat, “Yeah. I think you’re right. Even if she was picky.”

“She knew what was best for you, Jav, it’s a parents’ job,” Chucho starts to move. He takes off his hat to place it on the countertop, moving to the kitchen cabinet furthest to the right, “Which is why I’ve got something for you before you leave.”

He stretches a little to reach behind the stacks of plates, fumbling for a moment when he isn’t tall enough to see what he is doing. Javier watches curiously as his father retrieves a box of matches, pulling it open to reveal that it doesn’t contain any.

Instead, a golden band with a simple diamond resides in the box. Javier recognizes it immediately as his mother’s engagement ring and his eyes widen whilst his breath catches, heart hammering in his chest, “Dad, I—“

“Take it,” Chucho pushes.

Javier holds out his hand. The golden band feels heavy in his palm as it is placed there, weighing down due to the responsibility that follows with it. However, with every passing second, the weight becomes lighter as he feels at ease with the idea of making you his forever.

Colombia teaches one to see through all the bullshit. He briefly thinks back to his meeting with Lorraine at the wedding reception, and he knows now that what he felt back then was longing. What he feels with you is needing. He needs you.

“Are you sure?” He still asks.

“She’s perfect, son,” his father reassures, even throws the matchbox out to stress his point, “And I want some grandchildren soon.”

“Whoa,” Javier laughs and scratches the back of his neck with his free hand. He pockets the ring carefully, “One thing at a time.”

“I’m gettin’ old, want to watch them play in the apple orchard once,” he shrugs, “What’s your excuse?”

“I want to do it the right way, make mamá happy,” he replies. He hears the bathroom door unlocking.

“Who would’ve thought? There’s finally something keeping the Hero of Laredo here,” Chucho smirks and pats his son’s back, “Perhaps she may even make an honest man out of you.”

Javier doesn’t get to say something snarky back since you enter the kitchen. You look tired but you look so comfortable, cute, and happy.

“Ready to go?” He asks.

“We don’t need to help with anything?” You gesture to the kitchen. Javier cannot believe that you don’t know that he has an engagement ring in his pocket.

“Not at all,” Chucho reassures, “Cleaning up after a dinner party winds me down, readies me for bed. I promise.”

“Well, it was so nice to meet you,” you go to hug him.

“A pleasure,” Chucho corrects you when he hugs you back.

In the car, a slow song plays on the radio as Javier drives you home to his apartment. He didn’t dare tell his father that he is already looking at house prices and adverts, building a life with you in his mind every time he looks at you without you noticing.

“Think he liked me?” You ask whilst half-asleep.

“Not at all, definitely thought you were awful,” Javier jokes and it earns him a slap to his arm. He grins at you boyishly.

“Shut up, I mean it,” you sit up straighter, “I was shitting my pants, Peña.”

“I don’t think you have to worry,” he eventually says.

“How do you know?”

“I just know.”

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

#pedro pascal characters #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena one shot #javi peña #javi pena #javier pena imagine #javier peña #javier pena narcos #javier pena fic #javier pena x reader #narcos fanfiction #narcos #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal #my writing #husband!javi

372 notes · View notes

zerofuckingwaste · 10 months

Text

Easy zero waste tip no. 3: Know your R's

Refuse: If you don't acquire the thing that will become waste in the first place, it won't produce further waste. Simple enough. Refuse that which you do not need. Example: All that cute stuff on that Buzzfeed article? You don't need it. Don't even click the link.

Reduce: If you need something, get the minimum. Note that this doesn't mean the cheapest option- it means the most effective and environmentally friendly option. Example: Instead of buying disposable razors, or a razor with changeable heads, try out a safety razor. Instead of using plastic toothbrushes, try out bamboo, and instead of toothpaste in disposable tubes, try out some toothpaste bits. Instead of buying chicken breasts for one thing and chicken broth for another, get a whole chicken and learn to butcher its meat, and make broth from the skin and bones.

Reuse: This means both being mindful of purchases, so you're only buying things that are reusable whenever possible (Example: use beeswax wrap instead of saran wrap), and repurposing things you've already bought (Example: use those little Oui yogurt containers to start seeds for your garden).

Recycle: Find out what your local recycling program actually recycles, and be mindful. Aluminum is a safe bet most of the time, as is paper/cardboard; but plastics, most of the time, are a dud, so try to refuse, reduce, and reuse plastic whenever possible so you don't even need to worry about recycling it. This also refers to donation- that's another valid way to recycle things!

Rot: If you have a yard, start a compost pile! Just try to get a 50/50 balance of food scraps to brown matter (paper, dry leaves, etc). If you have a freezer, you can stick a container in there to act as a compost thing until you can bring it to a compost facility, such as a local garden, or farm. If you don't have the ability to do either of these things, then you can see if there's a subscription compost service in your area (I used CompostNow for ages, they're great).

Understanding these five principles, and looking at them in this order, can make things easier. Next time you're buying something, or about to throw something away, consider which of these might allow you to reduce your waste output in the future.

#zero waste #sustainability #anti consumerism #anti consumption #eco friendly #sustainable #environment #five r's #refuse reduce reuse recycle rot #reduce reuse recycle #recycle #ecofriendly #recycling #compost #composting

195 notes · View notes

sintiva · 1 year

Text

LOVE BETWEEN, e. jaeger ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

❁ summary: the two newlyweds, mr. and mrs. jaeger, emulate the special meaning of love between two human beings

❁ content: blackfem!reader, just light touching and kissing, alcohol is consumed, but nonetheless, this is straight sappy content...my first sfw piece...🚶🏽‍♀️

❁ notes: kali's album is so so so good, and love between is currently my favorite, so what did I do? thought up a scenario on the bus. i hope you guys enjoy it! feedback appreciated😊 — playlist

love between two human beings can be so wonderful… it was true, right now in this very moment. in this life, as eren’s hand settled in the dip in your back; smoothing over the warm and sticky skin. you had worked up quite a sweat, but he continued to guide your feet with his. he was holding your hand up and leading you in a careful, slow, and simple waltz. the warm, yellow lights of the botanical garden lit the perfect path, so neither of you would lose balance or topple over into a bush.

“jus’… follow my steps, promi-” blegh… he burps. you both freeze and stare in disgust! eren had the audacity to look appalled, himself.

“‘rennn, tha'snasty! say 'scuse me.” you giggle, hitting your fist against his chest, and then follow with a soft barrage of multiple petty hits. he conceded, playing into your scene of punishing the silly boy for burping so unexpectedly.

the slur and fumbling of words only reaffirm that you two are meant to be. you're both calculated, intricate, and suitable human beings made perfectly for the other. extra time was devoted in the creation of you both.

you were both young, drunk, newlyweds. slow sippin’ on wine until mr. jaeger offered shots. “well,” you suck your teeth and tilt your glass of wine to your mouth downing the rest of the rich, red liquid, “i wouldn’t be able to call myself mrs. jaeger if i refused. now would i?” you scoot your face closer to his and he adores how the tip of your nose and the apex of your cheekbone glisten from the faint golden shimmer highlight you brushed on them earlier.

“exactly! as a jaeger, you must be able to hold your liquor. can you do that my sweet wife?” with an outstretched hand he takes his index finger and tilts your chin up, careful not to ruin the makeup you worked so hard on.

pshh, you let the air wisp out the corner of your lips in disbelief. “can you even do that, husband?” you bat your eyes and wrap your hand around his wrist in wait for his answer. he smirks and chuckles in disbelief. his head hangs in embarrassment and he lifts his free hand to his forehead to shield the red that creeps it’s way up to his neck, and further spreads to his face.

you giggle; releasing his wrist and mocking him for his quick flustering. he pouts at you and calls you an evil, little thing, "but you love me though.”

“like no one else in the world, baby.”

his lifts his but off the seat, and leans forward to peck your lips — always careful not to mess up your pretty lip look. you suck in your cheeks, trying not to be like that newly wed couple, but you just couldn’t help it. you didn't want to be that overly giddy partner, but there was no need to restrict your affection. you wanted to be all over each other, shower the other in kisses and feed each other as you wined and dined. it was sweet, magical; everything you could’ve only dreamed, intangible — until eren somehow made it a dreamy reality.

eren beckoned the server over, and you grasped onto every word and brand he asked for. patron, tequila, old fashion, on the rocks, no sour mixes, any and everything — even rum and more wines. an entire language that you didn’t understand, but you’d drink it. one thing you knew for sure was that you only wanted a small amount of salt on the rim. but eren had the poor server bring over all those drinks and extras just for him to get "tipsy" on his third shot of patron.

which leads to the current predicament. a slow, sweet, and passionate waltz. his emerald eys sparkle in the way that yours shine. his lips curl up into an innocent but cheeky smile when you accidentally slip, or your heel awkwardly grates along the concrete; he'll catch you with an "I've got you, baby."

"i know you do, 'ren. you always have, even...even before all this."

he's got you. in sickness, in health, in any predicament that may make you question the capability of your love. even in the solitude and inescapable signs of death.

he'll hold you and cherish you in his arms. specifically, in this moment as you both hold the other. as you portray a disgusting amount of public affection that makes the wondering eye gag and repulse at the sight of you two — content, and carefree.

"our love is wonderful you know,"

"you think so?" you lift your forehead off his chest and wait for his answer.

"because i've dreamed of this moment since that day I met you, yn, since the day I've laid my eyes on you-". i forgot to mention he rambles when he gets a little tipsy.

"-from the day you picked on me for tripping over my shoelace in the work cafeteria. yeah, it was a stupid mistake, but the way you approached me. I'll never forget it," one smooch, as his hands drop to your waist. his fingers knead the warm, supple flesh. he's scooping you up in a way that only you're familiar with.

the music in the back now seemed like a figment of your imagination. a minor fracture in your perfect reality. a memory only feasible if eren was out of your sight. your vision blurs as he opens his mouth again.

"it was how you spoke to me, and how you looked,"

he's trying his hardest to focus on his words, but his hands have a mind of their own. his own feelings of sentiment make him woozy, and enamored — with you, and just you. this space between you two he needs to consume it.

i even remember how you smelled that day, baby. can you believe that?

"ohhh, e-eren," you've been struck by the wave of emotions you've been jumping with the entire night. you promised yourself that you wouldn't cry, not like this. not in the beautifully lit, and well-maintained green scenery of the botanical garden. the only time he succeeded in making you this vulnerable to your emotions was when he proposed.

one year ago, on a trip to turks and caicos. alone on an island sipping on margaritas until you were being more susceptible to your sexual fantasies that involved the nature of being overseas.

"this isn't what i expected, i never do things that make me happy, but this — being with you, experiencing life alongside you has made me the happiest. i can't imagine a life, my life without you, yn"

and then there's another smooch on your lips, and a warm thumb gliding across your cheek to wipe the slew of tears that slip out of your beautiful eyes. the slow dancing stopped, leaving the two of you to sway along to an ambiguous tune. the ending of the song — a true fantasy. but the birth and unification of life with the other, a world where claiming the other as "mine" has become so sweet and dulcet.

"honey, you said you weren't gonna cry."

"i know, but — just..." and you break down. digging your fingers into his arms, scared to let go. scared of the future, the end of this moment. the end of a man truly loving and worshipping you the way eren has. a prior life that he's made you forget.

"i've never, ever had this in my life, eren. you know this, and i want us — this," you sobs get louder, but eren understands, he knows you and every single part of you. your body, brain and those thoughts that make you question every little thing.

"i'm yours for forever, angel. till the end of us, till the end of me. i am forever devoted to you."

"you're stealing all the good lines from my head, eren, stop it." you whine and place your fist on his chest. he always had a way with words, that you just could never articulate. a soul like eren's was rare, it was a beauty, a true beauty. the soul of a man that you truly deserved.

"one of us has to say them, and it's helping me distract my tears." he sniffles, unexpectedly. his brunette strands tilt forward as he drops his head and succumbs to his tears. he's been holding them in, working through a hammering heart as his wife cried before him. he was a sensitive guy too you know, but he made sure that you heard his words first.

eren was entirely aware that you needed this moment, maybe he needed it more, but it was a solidifying factor. crying together, loving together, hardships together, and the inevitable. together.

"promise me," he holds your face, for an intimate kiss this time — a pause from the tears, "that our souls have been intertwined for an eternity. you're mine, I'm yours?" that emerald shimmer of his teary eyes makes your knees feel weak. but that promise was a given.

"I promise you, mr. jaeger, m-my life, my love, and my... my devotion. my soul has bonded in a forever tie with yours." you barely manage, but you got it out. that's all that matters.

"you promise?" he knocks his forehead against yours and gently soothes your body with his hands; holding you like the most fragile thing on the planet.

"i swear, promise — everything." you sweetly reply, and dry those tears. you peer up at him. eyes swollen and red, but you wait for the final factor. the fourth kiss that seals the deal. the fourth slotting of his lips against yours when he murmurs a sweet, "c'mere, baby, i love you."

the sweet feeling of his tongue agasint yours. the taste of alcohol distilled by pressure and passion — and a bit of tears.

the fourth kiss of infinite companionship, a partner, and a lover. two conflating souls, bound by the spell of love.

you and i, till the end of time.

#eren jaeger x black reader #eren x black reader #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger fluff #aot x reader #eren jaeger aot

542 notes · View notes