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suashii · 1 day

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— 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝒸𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 ౨ৎ

boothill x f!reader. 2k wc. ﾉ non-canon compliant ﾉ sfw ﾉ some vaguely suggestive bits ﾉ farmhand!boothill ﾉ flirty teasing ﾉ pet names ( darlin', princess, honey, sweetheart. . . i went crazy @.@ )

my comeback to writing for hsr! first time writing for boothill so pls don't be too tough on me :3 hope u like ! !

the new farmhand at your grandfather’s ranch is trouble.

he shouldn’t be, not with the way your grandpa speaks so highly of him—he’s exactly the kind of help this place needed, he tells you. starts on time, is thorough in his work, and takes good care of all that your grandfather holds dear. you should love him simply for that—taking a weight off the old man’s shoulders and putting his heart at ease—but you’ve seen an entirely different side of the so-called saint.

ever since you arrived at the ranch a few days ago, the one called boothill has been a pain in your neck. it took nothing more than you stepping out of your car for him to label you that city girl, the “little lady” who looks like she’s never stepped foot in mud a day in her life.

from that moment onward, it’s been nothing but sly remarks at your expense. you don’t miss the chuckles he makes no effort to hide as you refamiliarize yourself with the animals and get used to the scent of hay and manure. his not-so-subtle smirks when you’re simply passing by have been the most irking. your mere presence is seemingly a joke to boothill.

you’ve made it your mission to steer clear of the man but the task is proving to be difficult. the fact that he’s now living in what you used to know as one of the guest bedrooms coupled with your grandpa’s oblivious albeit innocent nature seems to be enough to throw a wrench in that plan of yours.

your trip here was meant to be a relaxing getaway from the hustle and bustle of city life but you’ve only taken on a new role as boothill’s personal assistant if the tray with two glasses of lemonade is any indication. if it were up to you, you’d be enjoying a peaceful breakfast without worrying about the man bothering you but it’s just your luck that your grandfather caught you before you could make the meal, politely asking you to deliver a cold beverage to boothill who has been working since the sun rose over the horizon.

luckily for the farmhand, you can’t say no to your grandpa.

that’s how you find yourself wandering the grounds in your satin pajama set and the boots your grandpa prepared for your arrival. your legs move in muscle memory as you navigate the vast stretch of land in search of boothill. thankfully, you don’t have to go much farther, catching sight of the man at the entrance of the barn.

he’s gone for a simple look today—a white t-shirt and jeans paired with the dirtied boots you haven’t gone a day without seeing him in. his shirt is already stained and is darker around the neckline, dampened with sweat. he’s made an effort to tie back his black and white strands of hair, though, a few of the shorter ones have escaped and frame his face. the hat you’ve grown accustomed to seeing him in, strangely, isn’t sitting atop his head.

he must see you approaching out of the corner of his eye because he turns to face you, an immediate grin taking over his lips. it makes you grip the tray tighter.

he looks you up and down as he pulls off his gloves, stuffing both in his back pocket. when gray eyes settle on yours, he tells you, “nice get up.”

you roll your eyes because you saw a comment like that coming. everything you do down to the way you dress is scrutinized when it comes to him. even though you’ve only been here a short while, you’ve come to expect this kind of behavior from boothill.

he huffs out a laugh at your reaction before his gaze falls to the tray in your hands and the glasses that sit on it. “that for me, darlin’?”

against your will, your heart jumps in your chest. that, you haven’t grown accustomed to. you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to him throwing around pet names at you like it’s nothing, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to him. it’s easier to blame the heat blooming in your cheeks on the sun’s beaming rays rather than boothill’s sweet talking.

you hold the tray out to him, hoping the effect of his words isn’t visible on your face. “courtesy of grandpa.” you can’t have him thinking this gesture was born from the kindness of your heart. his teasing would be merciless then.

“of course,” he drawls, grabbing one of the glasses and swallowing a few gulps. the shine of the lemonade is left on his lips when they pull away from the brim, his tongue poking out from between them to lick up the lingering drops. your eyes remain on his lips longer than they should, long enough to see them curl up into that annoyingly handsome smile. “little miss city girl wouldn’t be caught dead out here on her own accord.”

he can only stay charming for so long. “did you miss the whole part when my grandpa told you i grew up here?”

“no, no, i caught that.” he takes another sip of his drink. “it’s just that you strike me as the type who spent more time riding the horses than cleaning up after ‘em.”

you keep quiet and nurse your glass of lemonade because the only other option besides lying is telling him that he’s right. in your defense, what ten-year-old wants to spend their summer hauling hay and shoveling up horse crap?

“look,” you start, “i’m not some delicate glass figure who can’t get her hands dirty. i’m perfectly capable of helping out.”

boothill raises his eyebrows, a glint of humor sparkling in his steel irises. you know the look of a challenge when you see it and it almost makes you regret trying to defend yourself. “oh yeah? then the princess wouldn’t mind lending me a hand?”

“i wouldn’t,” you tell him. contrary to your statement, you really don’t want to spend more time with him than necessary, even if that means proving a point and settling some stupid argument. your mind races to find a believable excuse that’ll let you off the hook. “but i’m barely dressed to do any work. another time, maybe.”

he waves his hand in dismissal. “don’t worry, darlin’. what i’ve got in mind ain’t much work and won’t steal too much of your time.”

you nervously chew your cheek as boothill takes the tray that’s tucked under your arm, setting the now empty glasses on it and finding a place for them to rest. he nods his head in the direction he wants you to follow and, reluctantly, you do just that. he casts a glance over his shoulder to look at you. “just help me get this hay inside the barn, will ya?”

the job seems easy enough, a surprisingly straightforward request from boothill who seems to derive pleasure from giving you a hard time. too easy, you think to yourself as he heaves one of the rectangular bales of hay from the top of the stack. the task looks effortless when he does it, a short grunt being the only suggestion of exertion on his end.

he disappears into the red building and you take his temporary departure as an opportunity to pick up a bale of your own. you grab a hold of the twine keeping the hay in its shape and immediately grimace at the way the fodder pokes and prods at your palms. you’re tempted to let go and step away but you have a point to prove and plan on doing so. with a groan, you lift the bale, or at least try to. it’s heavier than you expect it to be and the scratching against your exposed legs is uncomfortable, sure to get worse with the distance you’re meant to walk.

you’re about to drop the bale back in place when a pair of arms reach around you, calloused hands joining yours to carry the collection of hay. boothill’s unexpected presence catches you off guard and the proximity of his mouth to your ear makes your breath catch in your throat. “having a bit of trouble, love?”

love? your skin prickles with goosebumps at yet another pet name. this time, it’s more difficult to blame the heat running beneath your skin on the sun. it takes a moment for you to find your voice and when you do, the ones you manage to get out refute his claim. “i’m not. i told you i wasn’t dressed for this.”

he snorts at your reply as though he can see right through the flimsy excuse. ��right, well, you’re in my way, so why don’t i help you with this one?”

before you can protest, boothill is on his way, dragging you along with him. your steps match his, his bigger boots trailing behind yours as the two of you walk the path to the growing supply he likely started before you interrupted. you’re released from your place between the bale and boothill when he drops it on top of the other.

you’re free to make a move, to slip away from the charged air and reclaim your personal space. instead of doing so, you simply turn around to face him. you’re met with his broad chest before you tip your head up to meet his eye. “i could have done that on my own.”

“i’m sure you could have,” he says, but the smile pulling at his lips tells another story. he reaches behind him with one hand to pull the gloves from his pockets, waving them between you as an offer. “these might help.”

you happily take the gloves as he takes his leave, slipping your hands into the protective gear. they’re larger than you need and there’s extra space in them but you don’t mind, not if they’ll help you show boothill that you refuse to be reduced to some city girl.

and they do help, at least with shielding your hands from the unpleasant sensation of hay against them. the bales are just as heavy and just as awkward to haul but you’re able to get the job done, nonetheless. for every one you carry, boothill lugs two more past you. his familiarity with the job means the two of you are finished one within a reasonable amount of time.

you drop the final bale with the rest, a relieved sigh pushing past your lips at a job well done. boothill stands off to the side and whistles as you snatch the gloves off, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “well, would you look at that.”

“surprised?” you ask, tossing his gloves back at him.

“honey, anyone can hoist some hay.” he catches the gloves with ease, stuffing them back in his pocket. you’re almost offended at how easily he dismisses your efforts but you don’t have time to let the annoyance sprout before he’s approaching you, tipping your chin up so that you have no choice but to look at him. “though, i doubt they’d look as pretty as you doing it.”

you can’t tell whether he’s trying to get a rise out of you or if he truly stands by his statement. all you know for sure is that his sugary words and the feel of his skin against your face leave you unmistakably flustered, so much so that you can’t control the erratic beat of your heart and can’t stop the little nagging voice in the back of your head from whispering that you don’t dislike him as much as you let on.

boothill is trouble, but not in the way you thought he would be.

“i have to go.” you knock his hand away and turn on your heel in a rush to get back to the house, far away from boothill.

you can escape the sight of him, the feel of him, but not the sound of him as he yells after you. “see you around, sweetheart!”

thanks for reading! consider reblogging if u enjoyed :3

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: honkai star rail #boothill x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill drabble #hsr drabbles #boothill fluff #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff

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astarionancuntnin · 23 hours

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Midnight's Embrace

summary: you can’t recall the last time you had a real, good night of sleep. your fight with the netherbrain is approaching fast and your anxiety is only increasing. halsin proposes to try a special brand of herbs to alleviate your mind. turns out this herb also awoke something else in you.

rating: E

word count: 3k

pairing: astarion x you x halsin (fem!reader)

cw: 18+. smut, porn with no plot, late act 3 business, reader is tav, massage turning into something more, polyamory, reader is sandwiched between her two bfs, recreational drug use, stoned sex, mildly dubious consent due to drug intake (reader & astarion), praise kink, threesome, dry humping, blood/vampire bites, unprotected sex, anal fingering and penetration, double penetration, creampie, aftercare, overall sane safe and as consensual as one can be under the influence.

a/n: taking a smol break from my angsty writing to deliver some smut goodness. hope you enjoy! (i sure did)

a/n²: this is absolutely self-indulgent stuff and i will not be sorry about it. i wish i had two loving boyfriends fucking me while i was high, is that so much to ask

read on ao3

or keep reading down below ~

You can’t recall the last time you had a real, good night of sleep.

Since your arrival in Baldur’s Gate, your nights have been restless, and your anxiety related to your upcoming fight with the Netherbrain has only increased. It’s not uncommon for you to wake up sweating in the middle of the night, panting, and checking your surroundings. You feel as if you’re only one inconvenience away from crumbling and your lovers are worried about you. You keep trying to reassure them that you’ll be fine once the Netherbrain is dealt with, but they won’t hear you out; you’ve only ever taken care of your companions since the start. Everyone has found their peace but you.

Halsin and Astarion urged you to start to focus on yourself, and you wanted to, but the truth is you had no idea where to start; you were used to taking care of everyone else, your own wellbeing never crossed your mind. One night, after Astarion feeds on you, he mentions how tense you are, and that he would gladly massage your neck to help with the tension you've accumulated. This makes you think about asking your other companions about their own techniques to decompress. Throughout the day, you ask around: “what do you do when you’re stressed out?” Shadowheart mentions that she meditates and stretches, and while it’s not a bad idea, with your mind constantly racing, you doubt you’d be able to easily meditate. Lae’zel mentions practice dueling, which she usually partakes with Wyll, and although it seems to be working for them, you wanna try to avoid more fighting before your upcoming fight.

That’s when Halsin tells you about the medicinal benefits of some herbs, and how they could help you relax. Although you’ve never tried, you’re open to the idea; you’ll try anything that could potentially ease your night terrors. You spend the next day marching the streets to reach an herb shop. As you enter, a lady greets you cheerfully, offering her help to find you exactly what you need. They offered a great variety of consumables infused with their many strands available : pastries, desserts, drinks and potions, candies; if you could imagine it, they had it. The lady explains the effect each of their products have and their specialities. After looking around, you settle on a cookie with Midnight’s Embrace, a sleep inducing herb. You thank her and head back to the Elfsong for the night.

You finish your meal with the special cookie and soon after, you bid your companions goodnight before fetching your partners to accompany you through the night. After all, you still intend on holding Astarion to his word about that massage he mentioned the other night, and Halsin promised to be by your side as this was your first time consuming something like this.

You had reserved the room with the biggest bed they had, just for this occasion. You reach for the bed first, lying comfortably on your chest, ready for your long-awaited massage. Halsin is next to join you, removing his shirt to get comfortable before sitting next to you with his back against the headboard, and Astarion joins soon after, kneeling behind you. The pale elf straightens up before laying his hands on your back, wasting no time to work through the knots in your tired muscles. The relief you feel is almost instant.

Halsin combs through your hair, pushing it aside to reveal your blissful face. “How are you feeling?”

“Sooooo good. A massage was the best idea.”

As it turns out, the massage combined with the herb-induced dessert enhanced each other, as the effect of the cookie you ingested earlier had already started settling in. When the lady mentioned they were “fast-acting”, you didn’t expect almost spontaneous-acting. Your skin feels more sensitive – in a good way – but you know that it’s the effect of the drugs, as if every touch was the softest caress you’ve received, and you found yourself leaning in the vampire's strong and graceful grip, only wanting more. As he makes his way to your lower back, a few unconscious moans escape your mouth before you can stop them.

“I take it that you’re enjoying yourself, then?” Astarion asks, smiling, in response to your moaning.

“It’s just… your hands…” you sigh content, leaning into his touch. “They feel amazing.”

“I'm happy to provide, my love.”

His dexterous hands turn you to putty and you wish you could feel more, every inch of your body yearning for attention. He keeps working on your back while you reach out to Halsin, his much bigger hand holding yours tightly. You slightly turn your head to be able to look at him.

“I… want you to touch me too.”

“Tell me where you need me, my heart.”

“Can you hold me? I want to be held by you two.”

The two men look at each other in understanding before repositioning themselves on each side of you ; Astarion hugging your waist from behind, nuzzling himself in the crook of your neck, and Halsin sheltering you in his arms, his head resting on top of yours.

The effects of the cookie kept getting stronger : you felt lighter, more peaceful and happier, your mind was clear from any lingering anxiety, only taking in the love surrounding you. In the comfort of their arms, you let your hands roam over the archdruid's chest, exploring each crevasse. The drugs made you more sensitive, especially down there, and it doesn’t take you long to feel a familiar warmth pool down to your stomach. You gently rub your thighs together, chasing the feeling growing between your legs, when you feel the man behind you slightly pull away.

“Hold on, are you–” He raises his head to look down your waist, “Oh, you little devil. You are touching yourself!”

It seems that you had lost all awareness, not realizing your movements were brushing against Astarion’s groin. Your blood rushes to your face and you suddenly feel warm, “I– Gods, I didn't realize–”

He clicks his tongue, “None of that. We're here for you to feel better, remember? Now, tell us, what does your heart desire?”

“I…” You feel bashful for all the thoughts swirling around your mind, unable to speak them aloud: you wish to be taken at once by both of your lovers, having them make you feel whole as they fill you with their love, touch, kiss, bite, every part of your body. Surely, you're influenced by the herbs, but you can't deny that even sober, the thoughts have crossed your mind. The drugs simply allowed them to wander freely and amplify them slightly.

You finally manage to get a few words out, barely expressing the full extent of your carnal desires, “I want you… Both… to… massage me… everywhere.”

Halsin cups your face softly, kissing your forehead before getting up. “Let's get you comfortable, shall we?”

You nod hazily, and he helps you remove your camp clothing, before removing the rest of his own, leaving you both naked on the bed. While Halsin was helping you dress down, Astarion allowed himself to remove his own shirt, providing you the skin-on-skin you desired from both of them, all the while respecting his own boundaries. Now comfortably nestled between your lovers, you let your hands explore the man facing you. His warmth is overwhelming and you can't stop touching him, languidly going over his chest and shoulders, your concentration faltering.

“I believe our beloved is rather hungry tonight,” Astarion says, smiling.

The archdruid makes eye contact with you, lovingly holding your cheek, “Is this what you want, my love?”

“Yes, please, I've never wanted anything more,” you plead, now with a breathy voice.

Halsin gives you a soft smile and his lips meet yours in a passionate kiss. Your hips buck on their own, brushing over Halsin’s cock already awakening to your touch

Astarion keeps massaging your tits, never letting you go from his embrace and starts kissing your neck.

“Do you like that, my sweet?” He said between two kisses.

“Y- yes… please… more.”

He drags his hand alongside your body, his nails lightly grazing your skin, tracing every curve, every scar and mark on your body, leaving goosebumps in its trail, before landing over your ass.

“Like this?” He asks with a husky voice.

“Yes…” you breathe out.

Halsin follows Astarion's lead, his own hand caressing your side before landing on your thigh, lifting it up to hook your leg around his waist.

“How about this?”

His hand finds its way to your cunt, softly stroking along your entrance.

You sigh content, your hips bucking into him more, trying to make his fingers enter you.

“More…I need more…”

The archdruid slides his finger inside you, giving you exactly what you want and you moan, letting your nails dig in the muscles of his arm. He steadies his rhythm and your hand finds its way in Astarion's hair, pulling him closer to you. His lips reach your ear, guided by your hand.

“By the gods, you're so beautiful,” he says, nibbling on your ear, getting a whimper out of you, as he leaves a trail of kisses down the nape of your neck.

The attention from your lovers makes you squirm under them as every inch of you is yearning for more contact. Halsin rewards your movements by entering you with a second finger and you cry out of pleasure.

“Keep singing for me my love,” Halsin says.

His fingers working your cunt and his thumb rubbing over your clit only awaken something stronger in you.

“Please Halsin, I need you.”

“You will have me, my heart.”

Your other hand reaches for his cheek, forcing him to look into your eyes, “All of you.”

He reads the urgency in your gaze and he removes his finger from you, giving them a taste and humming at your essence.

“By the Oak Father, you taste like the sweetest of honeys, my love.” His voice is deep, but soft; you can hear the admiration he holds for you, your body, your soul, and it only makes you want him even more.

He places his cock at your entrance before slowly pushing in fully, and you hold onto his face, taking in deep breaths as he gives you time to adjust to his size.

“Look at you…” Astarion whispers close to your ear. “You're taking him so well, my love,” he rewards you by groping your nipples, lightly pinching them in the process.

You arch your back at the sensation, giving him easier access to not only your breast, but your neck as well, and his mouth instinctively finds its way to the familiar spot of his feeding. His cold tongue traces over your pulsating vein, seemingly asking for permission, and yet, you were the one reduced to a pleading mess.

“Please...”

He hums in the crook of your neck and you feel his smile against your skin, “Please what?”

Your chest rises higher with each breath you take “Bite me.”

He holds your head back by lightly pulling your hair and sinks his teeth into your neck. You cry out at the initial sting and quickly get lost in the feeling. The flow of your blood leaving your body is even more ecstatic than usual; as if you could feel the blood in every vein in your body being pulled away as Astarion drank from you ravishingly. Knowing your limits and accounting for the condition you're in, he pulls back earlier than usual, and you whine at the loss of his mouth only to moan more as Halsin finally starts moving inside you. What the vampire hadn’t thought of was the effect your blood was going to have on him, now that it was mixed with the drugs you took earlier. It wasn't rare for him to get hard drinking from you, but he usually dismissed the feeling since you've discussed taking things slow. This time however, his cock felt rock hard and the drugs now flowing through him made him chase the feeling that the fabric rubbing over him was providing.

He grabs your waist, grinding into your back, while Halsin pumps in and out of you with slow strokes. With any restraint gone, Astarion pushes his hips into you, rubbing himself down through his trousers. By now, his need is clearly showcased by the pre-come stain on his pants, and the head of his cock poking out of his waistband, flushed pink by your blood running through it.

Halsin notices Astarion's mood change and he reaches out to hold his face, bringing him back to him, before he can act on impulse.

“Do you want this?”

His eyes are sincere and caring; granted the reasons they're in this situation is for you, but that doesn't undermine their own needs as well. Astarion nods, affirming his consent, before freeing his erection to show his intentions. Now certain that his lover wanted this as much as himself, Halsin made sure you were ready for them.

He cups your face and gently strokes your cheek. As if he had read your mind earlier, he asks, “Do you think you can take us both, my heart?”

“Yes,” your voice is merely a whisper, but the lust you express is clear nonetheless.

He removes himself from inside of you to wet his fingers with your juices, only to take them back out to move them down to your tight hole. His finger coated by your slick gently enters your ass and you gasp at the sensation, surprised at first, but welcoming it as you push down against him. He slides a second finger and you moan in pleasure.

“That's my good girl.”

He prepares your hole, making sure you're accustomed to the feeling, then removes his fingers to spit in his hand, now to prepare Astarion for you. He grasps the vampire's length and slowly strokes him. Astarion hisses at the initial contact, but quickly melts into his touch, bucking his hips into Halsin's wet hand. The archdruid aligns his partner's cock at your tight entrance while he positions himself back against your pussy, ready to enter you again. He asks for one final permission.

“Are you ready, my love?”

With partly lidded eyes, you nod and whisper a faint yes, and he grabs the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss, while his hips and Astarion's thrust into you at once.

You cry into his mouth, both overwhelmed by their sizes and the friction having both of them at the same time provided, and behind you, the vampire growls, steadying himself inside your ass. Having both him and Halsin inside you like this was a sensation you couldn’t begin to describe. It’s everything you ever wanted, you feel whole, but also vulnerable; you were entirely at their mercy, and you wouldn’t be able to get out from their strong hold on you, especially not in the state you’re in. You're completely helpless, caged between their imposing arms and legs, and yet, you’ve never felt more safe than you do right at this moment. For once, you could let go, let yourself be guided, your life between their hands.

You’re brought back to the moment when they start moving, picking up a slow and steady pace, and you let yourself be used by them; while one pulls out, the other enters you fully. You’re rendered speechless, reduced to moans and soft cries, but your lovers make sure to fill in for your silence.

“You feel so good.” The voice behind you groans close to your ear. His grip on your hips tightens, with his sharp nails lightly digging into your soft skin.

“So deliciously wet, just for us.” A honeyed voice praises you more and you start to lose your hold.

“Gods, you’re so fucking tight.”

“You're doing so well.”

Their words of praise worked like a charm on you, and they knew the effect it had on you. They noticed how you reacted to encouragement on the battlefield, and it applied just as much in bed.

“My love.”

“My good girl.”

The shock to your mind hits you like lightning. You convulse between them, crying out as electricity runs through you, your walls tightening against their cocks, milking them dry.

“Ugnnh I'm– ah fuck- I'm close.”

“Mnh- my heart, I’m gonna come–.”

You're still going through your first orgasm when you feel a second one hitting you brutally as they shoot ropes of come inside both of your holes, leaving you overflowing from them.

The sensation numbs you out entirely, still spasming around their members, but completely spent and breathless. Your mind is blank, with nothing but pure bliss swirling around. As if you were between two worlds, switching from dream to reality, you barely feel your lovers pull out of you and move around, cleaning themselves and you. You think you hear a distant voice saying “let’s get you cleaned up” as you’re lifted up from the bed. You don’t notice Astarion removing the ruined sheet, but too tired of his own to care about replacing it with another, and snuggling back in bed. You’re laid down next to him and you instinctively reach out for him; your hand reaching out for his, laying close to his undead heart, and your forehead leaning over his shoulder. Finally, the archdruid slides behind you, covering you three with a warm blanket, his arm circling over your waist. At long last, you let yourself drift to sleep in his loving embrace.

For the first time in weeks, you get a real, good night of sleep.

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

tag list (comment or message me if you want to be added!): @grimistheangerinmystares @silverfangmarks @roguishcat

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slvttyplum · 3 hours

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manipulating a situation can obviously be very horrible, especially to twist it so that it works in your favor, but you found yourself moaning over suguru's shoulder every time he would finger you to get you to talk. this didn't happen every time, but when it did, it got messy, and not in the bad way—the way where suguru's fingers were covered in your fluid and somehow his dick was inside of you.

sometimes you had a hard time opening up about what was wrong, it was good to just keep it to yourself and internally work it out. every issue doesn't need to be shared with others, but suguru thought differently. he told you that if you were having any problems, you should come to him because he was your boyfriend and that's what he was there for, but you would get embarrassed and shut out. that's until suguru had to find a way for you to talk to him.

torture has been proven to be very effective, but that was a no-go, so he had to go for the second-best thing, overstimulation. having sex with you multiple times in a day taught him some things about your body, and one of them was that you were overly sensitive and had to have little breaks in between rounds so that you could calm down.

overstimulation wasn't for you until it was. fingering you until you couldn't take it anymore was an easy way to get you to tell him what was wrong. it was a nasty little trick he would use, but in his defense, it actually worked. that was his last resort; he had to know why you were upset, or it would drive him up a wall, so he would put you in his lap and try to ask one last time before sliding his hands in between your thighs and slowly touching you.

he thought by the fifth time he did this, you would catch on to what he was doing, but he thanked god you didn't, because the more closed off you got, the more he would have to do it and more. this was supposed to solely be to see what was wrong with you and hear you whine it out, but it got him hard. having you in his lap cuddled into his neck, sniffling from the pleasure, had his sweatpants stretching out.

"tell me what's wrong, baby, and i'll stop." his dark eyes looking into yours practically begging for you to talk to him, and when you protested, he'd slip his fingers deeper inside of you, slightly curving them so that he could touch your sweet spot and get faster.

he would lie and say that he didn't want to do that, but when he had to, his heart would race and his dick would get hard. this was still pleasuring you, so of course he was going to enjoy it, but he felt a little guilty having to do it in this circumstance, yet you never stopped him. wrapping your arms around him and whispering in his ear what was wrong in hopes he would stop, but he didn't; instead, he would fuck you right there, explaining to you how easy it was to just tell him from the start.

"see how easy that was? hm? you must like getting fucked." teasing you while giving you kisses all over your face. he only wanted the best for you, and you should just talk to him, even if you feel embarrassed about it. he was all ears for you and you alone; he didn't want to keep making you cum back to back to get you to talk to him, even if it was enjoyable.

after multiple sessions of him doing that just for you to give up, after you came once on his fingers, you just started to tell him because communication was important for you and you didn't want him to be in the dark about things, so i guess you could say manipulation was good.

... only for suguru, though.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #x reader #jjk suguru #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen geto #geto suguru #jujutsu geto #geto x reader #geto smut #suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen suguru #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #getou suguru #manuipulation is BAD

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2kiran · 2 days

Text

࿐.𖥔 ݁ ˖ caught by spider-man noir, the man who has mercilessly aimed for your throat for beyond a decade. it was decisively humiliating for your ego, uncomfortable ropes binding your frame. “say... i was expecting for you to put up a bigger fight.”

he comically raises both of his gloved hands, forming them into fists to throw a punch to the air as if to draw out a pained reaction from you. “this is goin’ta’ go down history. that is, if anyone tries to remember ya.” you aren’t amused. he drops his arms to his sides, awkwardly coughing into his hand to try and ease the tension.

“right. let’s work something out.” check tags for warnings.

your hands grasp spider-man noir’s thick thighs, his walls dragging up and down your wet cock. “mnngh, this, ah, this is not what i had in mind.” he barely manages to let the words out, a ragged gasp pulling the fabric of his mask backwards.

“i’m not the one who started it.” you grunt, and he squeezes around you to keep you in, the rhythmic pulse practically hypnotizing you to continue fucking his tight hole. “ya should feel lucky, you - you—” he strains, cut off by his own breathy moan, your tip grazing against his sweet spot. the grip spider-man noir had on your shoulders tightened, a futile attempt to ground himself to reality.

the years, the pining, the lingering touches, the lasting glances, all coming to crash down onto this moment that encapsulated both of your beings. the mere sensation of him and promise for release practically possessed you, repeatedly guiding him up and down to take in the entirety of your aching dick. the skin of his thighs delicate beneath your touch, jolting with every thrust. the warmth radiating from him unfamiliar - a stark contrast to the coldness of your heart - yet so fucking good.

you’ve stretched the longing unnecessarily more than you should’ve, tension burrowing into your shoulders with his secure hold. “we should’ve done this - hnghh, sooner.” he lets out a groan that’s more of a whimper, pressing his masked forehead against yours. spider-man noir takes charge, gratefully so, rolling his hips forward to rightfully chase after what he’s been so deprived of.

“you were trying to, mmf, kill me.” it was a reminder that bubbles a chuckle from his chest. you were able to faintly tell that his goggles were fogging up from how harsh he was panting, his fedora noticeably tipping towards you.

if anyone were to enter this room, they would initially think that you two had a romantic bond. “so were you.” he gasps out, abruptly constricting when a particular harsh bounce causes you to slide all the way into him. your climax hits you like a train, being ripped from you unexpectedly, his ears catching onto a low groan of yours. fuck, did that make him clench on you harder.

“fair.” you huff, your clothing unbearably sticking to your sweaty skin. trying to lift him off, he tuts. spider-man noir forces himself back down. “who said we were done, pretty boy?”

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eupheme · 2 days

Text

— a good, good neighbor

john hancock x f!sole survivor/reader

rated e - 2.8k

tags: friends-with-benefits vibes, mutual yearning & jealousy, mention of chem usage, references to threesome, horny!desperate!hancock, desk/office sex, semi-public sex, piv, blowjobs

prompts: “i want to fuck you so badly” + “i'm simply enjoying the view. it's not every day i get to fuck someone so pretty.”

“How did you imagine us?”

“Every way,” Hancock husks, “Keeping my cock warm while I work. Eating you on the desk or bending you over it.”

“Hell, I’ve even thought about the balcony. I’d take you right over the fuckin’ railing if you’d let me.”

(Or - when you come back from a mission, Hancock can’t wait to get his hands on you)

Despite the bustle inside the Third Rail, it’s all just dull noise.

Hancock can’t say he’s heard a word Fahrenheit has said. It’s not his fault she had cornered him inside the entrance, right as he was on his way in.

Where he has a perfect view of the bar.

A perfect view of you, where you perch on one of the stools in front of Charlie. Looking like a dream, in your soft, faded clothes.

Not that he doesn’t like your vault suit. The way it fits like a glove around your hips and thighs, the swell of your tits.

He’s always been a fan.

But there’s something about this - how you look like you belong here, with him. It’s been a while since he’s felt his heart stir, but you really seemed to have woken it up.

His partner huffs, finally stepping to the side. Her own plans tonight, eyes already drifting over to the stage. A long-suffering sigh - a hand that pushes her undercut back, a scrunch of her nose.

“Remind me to let you two… debrief next time, before I talk to you.”

Hancock grins, only now coming back, “You got it, sister.”

He owes her one. Tomorrow he’ll sit down and really listen, but it’s been a long fuckin’ week and the chems he downed in his office are just now taking effect.

Tipping him towards being too high to be jealous that you’re talking to another ghoul - a sentiment that he’s only just becoming acquainted with.

That was never really his style, before now.

And just a tad too sober to suggest Deegan just join them, if your conversation doesn’t wrap up soon.

Really fuckin’ soon.

It’s as he sidles up to you that he notices just how good you truly look. Scrubbed clean from the wasteland, and he’s already imagining you in the Rexford, hands sliding over your wet curves in the shower.

Getting ready to come here, applying that pretty shade of red that darkens your lips - a treasure found on a recent favor you did for Daisy.

Something that had kept you away for days, his jaw gritting as you had left without him.

It’s the same shade as his coat - and that does something, too. A clenching in his guts, a wash of need as he imagines it marking up his cock. A pretty ring around the base, staining his skin.

Christ, he needed to get it together.

Your eyes brighten when you see him, “I was hoping you’d find me. Heard you were still working.”

He fits against you, leaning on the bar. A hand draping across your shoulder - eager to touch, as your head tips up to his.

“Never too busy for my favorite girl.”

The smile you give him, those pretty painted lips stretched wide, shoots straight to his cock. Uncomfortable, where it strains against the front of his trousers - and maybe, he just might be head-over-heels.

He needs to get out of here.

“You want to get out of here?” He asks - the back of your neck warm where his palm curves around it, thumb brushing over soft skin.

Feeling the low hum in your throat, as you answer.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“I want to fuck you so badly.”

Hancock growls it in your ear, as he wrenches the door to the Old State House open. Bypassing your room at the Rexford, opting for something closer.

He always seemed to like you in his bed. Late nights turning into slow mornings, getting acquainted with the soft drag of fingers against skin. Comparing scars until you’ve learned each and every one.

You think he’d keep you there, if he could. If you both weren’t so prone to wandering.

The rough admission sends your pulse racing. Never expecting to miss someone like you did him. Never thinking you’d get a chance like this again.

But something about being with Hancock feels so easy. Something invisible that ties you to him, but that tether is never-ending. Both of you always finding your way back to each other, in a slow orbit.

Never knowing what it truly meant to know that someone had your back - until you were looking down the barrel of something you weren’t supposed to come back from, out in the wasteland.

Knowing he would be there, as soon as you called.

“Then fuck me,” You sigh against him, at the landing of the second-floor staircase. The railing pressing into your back as his tongue licks into your mouth.

Hands fisting in the collar of his frock as his hips roll against yours. Getting turned around in path back to his room.

Ending up across the hall, in his new office. The door still cracked open as you both stumble inside. A soft sound of surprise when you find yourself bumping up against a heavy wooden desk, instead of the couches you’ve come to know so well.

He’s already herding you to the other side, moving his chair out of the way. Hoisting you onto the edge, before stepping between spread thighs.

Mouthing at your jaw, hands slipping beneath your shirt.

“Wrong room,” You sigh, as your arms wrap around his shoulders.

“Right fuckin’ room.” His hips meet yours, rolling himself against your core, “Know how many times I’ve dreamed about having you in here?”

The thought of him thinking of you has your thighs tightening around his hips. A needy moan when his hand fondles a breast over the fabric of your bra, before it’s slipping beneath.

“How-” You start, and then squeak as his fingers pinch against the tight peak of your nipple, “How did you imagine us?”

His black eyes are hazy when he pulls back. A shine on his lips from where his tongue soothed a mark left against your neck.

“Every way,” Hancock husks, “Keeping my cock warm while I work. Eating you on the desk, or bending you over it.”

You whine at the thought - a jolt of pleasure arcing through you as his hips jerk against yours, grinding against your clothed core.

“Hell, I’ve even thought about the balcony. I’d take you right over the fuckin’ railing if you’d let me.”

God, it’s tempting. Heat flaring to life in your cheeks at the thought - knowing he would.

He’s opened the doors to a lot of new aspects of yourself, but there’s still a shred of your old-world modesty that clings to you.

But it still sends a liquid warmth pooling in your belly. He can feel the way your hands tighten their grip that you’re picturing it too.

The balcony is out of the question, but the rest…

Your palms push at his shoulders, and he allows you just enough room to get down. To flip around until your hips are flush with the edge of the wide desk.

“Why don’t you show me?” You coo, with a glance over your shoulder, “Mister Mayor.”

There’s a flash of teeth with his smile - words as sweet and smooth as honey, “Sweetheart, call me that again and I’ll show you anything you want.”

His hand is quick to press at the small of your back, bending you across his desk like he had imagined. Your hand slipping down to work at the button and zipper of your pants, where he’s already gripping at the fabric to tug your layers down.

Hancock’s hips press into your bare center. Nudging the hard, clothed curve of his cock against yours, fingers already smoothing over your skin. Gripping on before nails drag over the curve of your ass, then slipping between your thighs.

You stifle a moan when he touches you, all slick and swollen already. A day-long lingering anticipation of seeing him, keyed up by his own laid-bare desire.

“You miss me, doll?” Hancock husks, when he finds how wet you are. The tips teasing your clit as he frees himself.

Fingers petting at your folds. Slicking them up until he can smear your arousal against his cock - the rough skin shining in the windows of light that peek in from the city outside.

“Yes,” You whine - he always seems to pull things from you, when he has you like this. Making you soft, willing to lay yourself open if it means he keeps touching you, “Hancock, please-”

The word strings out - as he grasps at your hips, tugging you back just as he drives himself deep into you. This is what you needed - the aching stretch, the way your blood sings already.

Squirming when he stays still, slipping half-way while his hands keep you pinned against the desk.

“Don’t slow down now,” You huff, as you rock back into his touch.

Hancock’s own laugh is low and throaty - you gasp when you feel his fingers slip from your hip. Boldly tracing where you stretch around him, letting his thumb rub at your clit until he can feel you clench.

“Just enjoying the view.” He husks, “It’s not every day I get to fuck someone so pretty.”

His words shoot straight through you, settling in your heart. So much understood and even more left unsaid.

You’re used to the before, when there were neat labels and expectations. Left on uneven footing now, with how the world has changed.

Maybe even scared to bare yourself fully - to let yourself feel so deeply for another person again.

But surely this - this partnership, his words, him - must mean something.

“It could be.”

It slips from you with a sigh, too late to snatch back. Something fluttering in your belly, a heady mix of apprehension and pleasure as he growls - a sharp thrust that has him filling you again.

A shift of his fingers until he’s circling your clit, with just the right pressure that he knows you need. A shallow roll of his hips that starts slow, and steady.

“That right?” His voice is low, lilting up at the end.

You couldn’t really ask him to join you - but tonight, you could pretend. The time you had spent together on the road was some of your best moments in this aftermath.

But you respected his decision to stay, to work a little harder at this Mayor business. Even if it had left you unsure of where you stood with each other.

Even if you did miss him, want him by your side.

“Yeah,” You manage, “Keeping touching me like that and, yeah-”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he answers, “Sunshine, you’re gonna have a harder time getting me to stop.”

He makes good on his promise.

A hand catching under your thigh, hoisting your knee onto the desk top. Opening you up further - a stifled cry pulling from you when he nudges deeper, stroking a spot inside you that steals your breath.

The door is still ajar - the thought of your whines and the slick drive of his cock has your heart pounding.

You’re sure he’d love that too - the shout of his name as he makes you come, echoing up to where the drifters sleep above. The sound of his hips knocking yours into the desk, the rhythmic creak of old wood.

It still lingers as a whimper - bitten back as the pleasure builds. He hasn’t forgotten in the time you’ve been apart, pounding into you again and again. His touch circling just as he bottoms out, a pressure in his own belly with each gasp he pulls from you.

“Fuck, John.” You keen - a number already seeming to tick down inside you, with each circuit of his fingertips, “I’m gonna come-”

“That’s my girl,” He coos - keeping the same rhythm, the same steady pound that threatens to break you, “Give it to me. Soak my fuckin’ cock, sweetheart.”

His girl.

It echos - your cry going silent, when as the pleasure washes over you. Leaving you trembling as you ride out the waves of pleasure, meeting the thrusts that grow lazy.

You needed this, needed it as much as he does. So much packed noise inside your brain going quiet the harder he fucked you, now blissfully silent.

“Look at you,” It’s muted, as your back arches - as you drip around his cock, “You feel so fucking good, not gonna last-”

Almost as if he gets off to this - making you come. Taking you apart, until each breath is a wrung-out gasp, your fingers curling into fists.

It leaves you thinking that if he’s staying here - if he’s been thinking about you, you’ll give him something to remember.

Another check off of his list.

“Hancock,” You breathe - eyes heavy and dazed as you glance over your shoulder.

Where he’s arced over you - grinding himself deep. His own gaze blown-wide with need as it tips to meet yours.

“Come in my mouth,” You beg, “Let me taste you.”

Eyes flicking to his chair, still pulled up next to the desk. He’s always been able to follow you, a rough sound in his throat when the catches what you mean.

“Fuck.” His hips stutter, before he’s slipping from you, “Yeah. Yeah, doll. Anything you want.”

You’re sinking to unsteady knees in front of him, as he drops down into the chair. Knees spread wide as your hands run up his thighs, to where his cock hangs heavy against the unzipped fabric.

Already missing him inside you. A rough groan when your hand wraps around, before you’re swallowing him down. Tasting yourself smeared across him, as your cheeks hollow, your fist pumps.

“So fuckin’ perfect, you know that?” Hancock hisses, the words coming out ragged. Hips bucking into the wet suction of your mouth.

No teasing this time, no kitten-licks. Just the familiar weight of him on your tongue, the jerk of your spit-slicked fist.

A ragged sound slipping from him when your eyes drag up to meet his. Peeks of reddened and rough skin along the way that make you want to take a bite as well.

Noticing how he’s marked up with you - faded shades of red stained on his lips and chin. Littered across on his cock, down to the base.

You think you like the look of it, something warm flickering in your belly - an echo of the pleasure he gave you before.

Wanting him to think about you every time he sits here, after you leave. The feeling of your mouth around him, how hard you made him come. Leaving your own mark on this room, as well.

He groans at the way you watch, the soft lap of your tongue. How you squeeze him bringing him closer - waiting for him to show you how much he needs you.

“Fuck. You’re gonna make me come, gorgeous.” It’s a rough warning, as his hand cradles your jaw. The bite of nails against your neck, as his hips buck.

The groan he makes is loud and low - shameless - as he comes. His cock throbbing in your mouth, each pulse leaking his spend as you swallow him down. Coaxing every drop from him, until you’ve taken it.

Keeping him in your mouth, after - your tongue sweeping lazily across his skin, until he goes soft. Easing off him then, letting your head rest against his thigh.

Hancock’s head still tips back, lost in that soft haze. The shallow rise and fall of his chest, a week’s worth of want spilled across your tongue.

“Was that like you imagined?”

There’s the tilt of his head as he grins, his thumb reaching to press against your lower lip - a low low when you nip at it.

“Even fuckin’ better.”

The room shifts in front of you - Hancock’s boot propped against the desk, sending the chair back and forth on a slow sway.

Your legs thrown over the armrest, where you sit in his lap. The sounds of Goodneighbor muted outside, as the lights spill across the floor in the dark room.

“Thought I’d stick around a couple days.” You tell him, “Skip out later this week, maybe.”

“You just got in.” He rasps, fingers tracing a pattern against your shoulder, “Got somethin’ going already?”

You hadn’t planned on it. Had been hoping to stick around Goodneighbor for a while. Spend some time with him, before heading out.

But…

“Edward asked me to do a job for him,” You stifle a yawn, your head tilted against his, “Some girl he works for ran off, said she does that all the time.”

Duty always calls.

"Edward?" Hancock’s brow lifts.

“Deegan?”

His tongue clicks against his teeth, a soft pinch of his fingers against your skin, “Didn’t know you and Deegan were that chummy. Edward, huh?”

Your elbow sinks into his ribs, and he grins.

“Well, you don’t gotta wait on me,” He hums, already thinking ahead. “You wanna get this show on the road tomorrow?”

A small mark puckers your brow as you lean to face him, your gaze searching.

“I thought you stopped running.” It’s soft - a question, hidden in your words.

Hancock huffs, “Not running.”

His voice drops - a softness to his beetle-black eyes as he thumbs at your chin, drawing your mouth down to his.

“Just realized I’d rather be by your side.”

With his admission, the hungry press of his lips…

You think you fall just a little harder.

loved the idea of a desperate/lovey Hancock paired with a sweetly oblivious “what are we” Sole, haha 💖 thanks for reading!! and for this perfect request!

#john hancock x reader #john hancock x sole survivor #hancock x sole survivor #hancock x reader #fallout 4 smut #hancock #hancock fo4

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jaegeraether · 13 hours

Text

Sunsets and footballers (Part 72)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (59) / Alexia Putellas x Character (29) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (14)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**3.1k**))

ALEXIA POV

“Fuck.” Lucy growled. “Fuck. Fuck.”

“It’s okay. It’s just Ona.”

Alexia watched her jaw twitch as she drove. “Did you ask her to come?” She repeated.

“No.”

She saw her hands on the steering wheel turn white with just how hard she was gripping. Alexia knew Lucy. She couldn’t console her. She needed to be there in the room with them. With Blau. She needed to physically be there to protect her. She was always that way.

Alexia looked down at the warm pile of grey fur cuddled in her lap and smiled. Chiquito was on his back in a position that should have been impossible for his spine, a single paw over his eyes and the other touching Alexia. Needing to know she was there.

“When did you talk to her?”

“This morning after I realise I… was alone.”

Lucy immediately sympathised. She didn’t have to look at her to know. She felt it.

“She call me about the national game this week to see if I go.”

She ran her fingers through the soft fur of his belly, watching him squirm as he enjoyed it, moving his paw from his eyes and slow blinking up at her.

“Will you?”

Alexia sighed. She’d been trying to avoid all of these thoughts. “I don’t know.” She replied in Spanish. Lucy knew enough for that.

She nodded. “If there’s anything we can do…” She cut herself off.

“I know. Thank you. Today will be fun.”

“And there’s YFN’s birthday this week…”

“Oh?”

“This is the whole reason this Lumos event is happening. I called a few girls to come and distract her but it got out of hand. All of the WSL games were played yesterday so everybody has a day off today and came down to mingle and get their content done. It’s a lot. But I really just wanted to organise her birthday with people while she was busy.”

Alexia gave a small smile at that as Chiquito began playing with her hand, pulling it close to lick and then cuddle to it. Lucy was smart by doing that. Blau would have picked up what she was doing otherwise.

“Why you leave so late?”

“The organising? Because I wasn’t supposed to be here. I didn’t know what was happening with her and work and Spain and the clubs. And then the accident happened…”

It wasn’t an accident, but she didn’t want to use the word ‘assault’, which was more than understandable.

Chiquito grew tired of being on his back and stood, stretching and then stood on his back legs to nuzzle up to her neck. He was a very loving cat, and she knew he must have missed… her.

Alexia loved Chiquito. She allowed herself to be herself with him. Giving him all of the love and kisses and attention. That was the real Alexia, deep down. Too deep to find. Or at least she thought it was.

She looked over and saw that worried, protective, jaw-twitching Lucy had returned.

“Ona won’t be a problem. She just want to check on me.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I know her.” She replied in Spanish.

“Ona likes me.”

“I know.

“She really likes me.”

“I know.”

“I… I was lonely and let her get close. But we didn’t do anything…”

“I know,” Alexia said, softer.

“But you don’t know. My one job is to protect her. And only then make sure she’s happy and loved and has everything she wants. But I feel like I’ve just let her down every step of the way. The messages, the stalking, the brick… the fucking brick… Kristie. Mark. Her believing she was alone and we were broken up. The… accident…”

She almost whispered that. The assault. Alexia didn’t say it aloud but she understood now. Even if Ona wasn’t a threat, everything was a threat to Lucy now. She just needed to…

“I just need to protect her.”

Alexia nodded and she put her hand on her friend’s arm and squeezed. It felt good to be the comforter and not the comforted.

Chiquito settled back down into her lap, his back to her tummy, and his body curled around the entirety of Alexia’s free hand, claiming it as his own.

YFN POV

“Hey chicken,” Caitlin said as her arms came around her from behind and then she spotted Jordan and Leah. “Jordy! Leah!”

She ran around the table and shoved Katie aside to hug their best friends.

Jordan gave her a laugh and a hug back, and so did Leah. “Just did some interviews did you?”

“Yep, just need ta take some photos and we’ll have a break and get some a that lunch YFN was talkin’ about,” Katie said.

Jordan nodded silently and the couple immediately picked up on tension, their eyes wandering around the table.

“Wait, what’s happenin’?”

“What’s the issue? What did we miss?”

“Nothing. No issue..” YFN insisted.

Katie ignored her and started looking around the room until her eyes found Ona standing near the entrance, talking to several Man United players from her days there, though her eyes finding YFN ever so often.

Kyra crashed the party then with her cheeky attitude and said her hello’s. She took a bite of the closest item of food on YFN’s plate and her chewing slowed as her eyes found what the girls were looking at.

“What’s she doing here?” she asked.

Silence again. Shit. They didn’t know about Alexia and Ridley and there was no way to explain otherwise.

“She’s-” Leah started.

“-just here to see Alexia and do some press.” YFN cut off, appreciating that she was trying to help.

“Wasn’t she and Lucy a thing?” she asked.

“Not exactly..”

“Speakin’ of – where is she?” Katie interjected.

“Picking up Alexia.”

“Alexia’s coming? That’s great! Is Ridley coming?” Kyra blurted. She couldn’t be mad at her, it was Kyra after all and she was as innocent as they came.

More silence. Leah didn’t even attempt to speak this time. The silence lasted until Katie said, “Fuck. That bad?”

YFN cringed but it was all the response they needed. “That’s why she’s here?”

“I assume so… please don’t say anything.” She looked at Kyra and grabbed onto her cheeks with her good hand, her face puffed out with the food she had in there. She reminded her of a little Lucy sometimes. “Especially you. Don’t mention Ridley at all. Got in?”

She nodded until her face was released and she could swallow. “Yes, mum.”

“She looks a little out of place…” Alex said sympathetically, looking at Ona across the room.

It was true. Although she was surrounded by friends and former teammates, she still looked a little awkward and to be honest, she didn’t blame her. But in YFN’s head, everybody was making a big fuss over something so small. Lucy and Ona were never a thing. She liked Lucy, but so did the majority of the lesbian community. How could she ever be upset at someone for liking the person she adored with every fibre of her being?

“How far away is Lucy?” Kyra asked as a joke-not-joke.

Katie slapped her arm.

“We need to get going over to do our photos..” Caitlin said, tugging at Katie.

“On your way… can you two invite Ona over here, please?” YFN asked.

ONA POV

Ona had never before heard Alexia in such a state as that morning. She was crying, her voice shaking, half-asleep, and yet, somehow, Ona knew she was still holding back. She was destroyed. And Ona knew exactly what that felt like. She was always head over heels for Lucy and truly believed they were on their way to becoming something more when she’d met YFN. She didn’t hate either of them, she didn’t hate anyone. She simply grieved something she’d lost, and what’s worse, the potential of that something. And so when she heard Alexia so heartbroken over Ridley, she did the one thing she’d want someone to do for her. Be there.

Ona booked a flight as soon as Alexia had hung up. She’d messaged her but assumed she’d fallen asleep, and some part of her said maybe catching a flight was too dramatic, but she’d heard that pain in her voice, and Alexia was never, ever like that. Ever. She was going to be there for her friend because that’s who Ona was.

She was aware from a young age that she felt differently… more deeply… more passionately than other people. She was touchy and almost shy, and had her feelings affected by anything quite easily. She loved hugs and kisses, anything physical, from any of the people she was comfortable with, and although she knew it could be a bit much for some people, she didn’t care. It’s just the way she showed her emotions and to be quite frank, it helped take the edge off of the enormity of the things she felt. Alexia acted tough, but Ona had known her for a while. From Barca, the Spanish National team and prior to that, when they were young. And so she knew she was really a softy. She liked hugs. She liked being cared for. She just didn’t want anyone thinking that.

Ona messaged as she landed, and still nothing. She could have been asleep or more likely, she was ignoring her. She wasn’t surprised. Instead – she saw all of the messages from the girls about the Lumos event and jumped on board. Even if Alexia wasn’t there, perhaps players there would know where she was, or… maybe even YFN.

Although they’d had very little interaction, she knew it was because of their awkwardness towards the situation rather than any animosity. Whenever Ona had caught her eye at the pub, she’d never shied away from it. She’d always given her a smile, and not an empathetic one either, a polite one. That told her everything she needed to know about the woman. Yet, regardless of how nice she seemed, Ona did also hold a little hope that she would see Lucy at some point and be able to talk to her because fuck, did she miss her.

When Alexia didn’t respond, Ona took a taxi from the airport to Lumos and was greeted by chaos. She followed the directions of the staff as best as she could with their quick English and found herself being led into a room reverberating with a loud mass of voices, music, pets and other sounds. She didn’t have to wonder where to go first. Just as soon as she stepped into the room, her eyes found YFN. She was holding a phone up to her ear and paused before giving a smile and collecting herself.

She wondered if she should go over, or if she even liked her, but before she could argue both sides further in her head, her old Man United friends were there and surrounding her with excitement at her sudden arrival. She greeted them all and had a little catch up, letting them tell her about the different things she could do content-wise today. They encouraged it and honestly, it sounded like a great idea to fulfil her content needs in her own time and space, rather than being forced by her manager to find some for her to stay relevant and find sponsors. She just wished she’d brought Coco. Regardless of the girls all chatting around her, and Ona trying her best to distinguish the English from each other, her eyes kept finding YFN as she was talking in her group.

Just when Ona thought she’d be stuck there forever, two Arsenal players she’d briefly met before, Katie and Caitlin came over from YFN’s table and extended an invite to join her.

“Go, go!” Lucía García encouraged in Spanish. “She’s organising it all for us so she’s the person to talk to!”

Lucia wasn’t aware at that stage of Ona’s crush on Lucy otherwise she would have offered to keep her in the wheelchair. An over-exaggeration as she usually did.

She politely withdrew herself with the promise to see them all later, and headed over to YFN’s table where she now sat alone. She looked around and saw Leah Williamson, Jordan Nobbs and Alex Scott all sitting in an area with couches, headsets and microphones, talking and pointing around the area which was set up for podcasting.

“Hi,” she greeted, politely using English.

“Hola, Ona,” she smiled in return, though wincing slightly and dropped the smile a little. Ona’s eyes found her bruised jaw and she felt sick in her stomach. As she came around the table to kiss her on either cheek, she saw the wheelchair she was sitting in, her knee in a brace, her arm in a sling and couldn’t help the pure empathy that seeped from her. How was it possible to do that to another human being? And if Ona had ended up with Lucy, would they have done the same to her?

She sat down adjacent to her, YFN automatically moving her laptop and paperwork out of the way.

“How are you?” she asked, genuinely curious.

YFN chuckled and it was a cute, humble thing. “I’ve been better.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No, thanks for the offer though. I appreciate it.” Another smile. She was also great with eye contact and her eyes held… intelligence and awareness. She could see why Lucy liked her so much. “You’ve come for Alexia?”

“Sí. I could not see her here..”

“She’s not yet. I think she’s slept most of this morning or just been ignoring her phone. Luce is on her way here now with her.”

“Ah.” She felt good, knowing that Alexia was coming, and that she’d seen her messages. “Do you know much?”

“I was going to ask you the same..”

“She call me this morning very upset. She kept saying ‘she left’ and that she didn’t deserve to be loved.”

“That Ridley didn’t deserve to be loved?”

“No.. no… Alexia. She wouldn’t let me say anything bad about her to make her feel better.” Ona knew her accent was strong as she struggled for words in English, but YFN was patient with her, following every word.

She nodded.

“Is it… true? She is gone?”

Another nod. She looked as if she knew more, but didn’t say, and Ona didn’t ask as she knew the relationship between the two and that it was private.

“Never coming back?”

She sighed. “I don’t think so, but I can’t be sure. I just… I’ve never seen Ridley so in love before. And the one thing I know about her is just how unpredictable she can be sometimes.”

“Did they…” Ona didn’t finish the sentence, fearing the question was too inappropriate but she knew just how much of a difference that would have made to the situation. Sex always complicates things.

“I believe so.”

Ona swore in Spanish.

“Didn’t you have a game last night? You must be tired..”

“I am used to it I think,” she admitted. The two shared a smile.

“For what it’s worth, I think you coming here to be there for Alexia is beautiful. You’re a really good friend.”

Ona hadn’t expected the rawness of what she’d just said. She held her eye contact and could feel the blush on her face a little. “Thank you. She would do the same for me. Alexia… does not have… do emotions well… if that makes sense. She hides and be’s strong so when I heard her I knew I must come.”

YFN nodded knowingly. “Will you stay here or take her home?”

“Whatever she wants. I need to be with the national team by Wednesday.”

It was Monday now and their new coach was not lenient in the slightest, though still somehow a slight improvement on the last. Alexia was still injured and not playing, though she tended to go and be supportive when she could. Right now Ona wondered if that was what she needed most.

“I wonder what will be better for her,” YFN pondered aloud, mirroring Ona’s thoughts. Her heart jumped a little. Maybe they were a lot alike in the way they thought and empathised and acted. Maybe that’s why Lucy liked her so much. And maybe, just maybe, Ona was also Lucy’s type.

She shook the thoughts from her head and watched as YFN wriggled a little uncomfortably in her chair. It must be horrible to be stuck in one place for fear of pain and an inability to move far.

“I am really sorry for what happened to you. You didn’t deserve it.” She meant it, every word. And she wanted to say more but knew she didn’t have to. YFN understood the ‘more’ without her having to say it. She’d noticed that about her.

“Thanks Ona. I really appreciate that. It means a lot.” She reached across the corner of the table with her good arm extended, and Ona took her hand and squeezed. They held each other’s hands and eyes and it felt cathartic, almost. And she knew it was more than just a thank you. It was a sign that things were okay between them, and that they both understood and appreciated each other, regardless of the Lucy complication.

As if she knew she was there, YFN’s eyes snapped straight towards the entrance Ona had walked in to see Lucy standing there, almost dishevelled, her eyes flicking between the two and to their joined hands and back. God, she looked good. Ona saw her throat bobble as she swallowed her emotions.

With her eyes falling on YFN and only her, she made her way across the room with purpose, and Ona couldn’t help but want her eyes back on her. She was distracted from her wanting, though, as she spotted Alexia entering the room with her famous frown and sunglasses. She was dressed well, as was typical of la Reina and her facial expression held no happiness there. She moved her glasses to the top of her head and her eyes also found the pair, examining the situation and then Lucy stalking for them. She was always in Captain mode.

She looked quite normal besides the slightly red, puffy eyes, which could be explained away easily with a lack of sleep, and Ona was unsurprised and indifferent by the attention she caught just by being there.

In fact, the only thing different about her was that she had a little grey cat perched over her shoulder, his head scanning the room before nuzzling back into her neck.

The little grey cat who Ona immediately recognised as Chiquito.

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n0ts0surel0ck · 1 day

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Some autistic Sherlock headcanons!!

Based on my own autism

Sherlock hates getting his hair cut. He can’t wear ear defenders and he despises the small talk and how loud the clippers and blow dryers are. So, he generally wears his hair long and/or cuts it himself. Mariana eventually starts cutting it for him, since it equally bothers him when his hair touches his ears or neck. She’s just… not very good at it.

John finds a salon for Sherlock that does sensory appointments. It’s a silent appointment, so he doesn’t have to talk, and John gets him some earplugs to help with the noise. They’re not as good as his ear defenders but they do for the short time it takes to get his hair done. He mostly gets a dry scissor cut so he doesn’t have to be wet and so the clippers don’t touch him. He doesn’t like the vibration. He finds that he actually enjoys the sensation of a blow dryer when the sound isn’t overwhelming him. The heat and the air pressure are soothing.

Sherlock is very particular about fabrics. He despises polyester and other scratchy, synthetic fabrics. Everything he wears has to be 100% cotton. If he got his way, he’d wear an old pair of holey, decade old pajama pants and a jumper everywhere, but he doesn’t. He understands that he has to be presentable. He likes linen, the material doesn’t touch him as much, doesn’t stick to sweat, and allows for plenty of airflow. During spring and summer, and often stretching into fall and winter, he wears a pair of grey linen trousers. When it finally gets too cold, he switches to a pair of cotton ones that have an elastic waist band. He hates when there’s a lot of pressure below his diaphragm, so he keeps it loose. Shirts are mostly tees in the summer, a bit too big so they don’t touch him much. In the winter, he wears big sweatshirts, a half-peacoat, and a green scarf.

He’s been buying men’s high-top converse since he was in middle school and refuses to wear any other shoe. They’re comfortable, allow him to move without being heard, and don’t add to his height. He hates breaking in new ones, and so holds on to the ones he’s wearing for dear life. John has seen him wrap duct tape all the way around his shoe to keep the sole from falling out before.

His bedroom is kept perfectly organized by absolutely agonizing effort. He is particular about that space, since it’s where he rests. He doesn’t work in there. His chemistry equipment is in the living room and he never goes into the room on cases unless John forces him to change clothes. His room is a sensory heaven that he works tirelessly to keep so. Cleaning is difficult for him, but he resets the space every time he leaves it, even when he’s in a rush.

The rest of the apartment is a bust. His executive dysfunction takes over as soon as he crosses the threshold into the hallway. He leaves toothpaste uncapped, cups and plates everywhere, clothes wherever they fall. It drives John insane and he tries to clean up after himself, but it feels like an insurmountable task.

His hyper fixations overtake conversation constantly. Sometimes he and John will engage in conversation that is just… incomprehensible to those around them. John’s talking about the weather and Sherlock’s talking about Pendolino trains. Neither is acknowledging the other’s topic of conversation, but they’re responding to each other in turn and seemingly having a lovely time.

He likes to stim “with” John when something exciting happens. He grabs both of John’s hands so they’re facing each other and has John pull him back and forth quickly. He likes it when John and Mariana mimic a stim back to him, especially vocal ones. When the three of them are in the office together, it’s just an echo chamber of mouth pops and buzzes.

Sherlock respects the fuck out of routine. His in unconventional, but he follows it almost religiously. This means he respects other’s routines just as aggressively. He never moves John’s items, and if he borrows anything, he puts it back exactly where it was, position and all. He noticed John folding laundry in a certain way and now, if he steals one of John’s shirts and washes it after, he folds it in that certain way.

#sherlock & co #sherlock and co #sherlock holmes #john watson #mariana ametxazurra

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mimi-cee-genshin · 1 day

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Straight Shooter - Tighnari x f!reader

Summary: First impressions aren't easy to overcome, but for someone like Tighnari, they're a piece of cake.

Additional info: cute and wholesome fluff, meet cute, enemies to lovers (for, like, two seconds lol), 1.1k words

(Thanks to @paimonial-rage and @andromeda-nova-writing for beta reading!)

*****

Sand got between your toes and rubbed against the soles of your feet as you hurried down the dirt road. Gandharva Ville was in sight – thirty minutes later than planned.

Collei waved at you in the distance with both arms stretched out wide. As you came near, someone else was beside her waiting at the entrance of a house. His ears were his most prominent feature, but his arms were crossed as he tapped his foot. He was irritated.

You stopped in front of Collei, out of breath and panting for air.

“You're finally here!” said Collei. “I was worried something horrible happened to you.”

“I'm so sorry. I–” You cut your own words short because you didn't have an acceptable explanation. You simply slept in and that was a weak excuse for the first day on the job.

The guy scoffs at you. “Seems like you're following in your father's footsteps, huh?”

At first, you blinked a couple of times, stunned at his words. A growing portion of both anger and embarrassment burned inside you. You gripped your bag, hands already sweating from the run to Gandharva Ville. This was an awful start to your day and this guy made it worse.

“I'll be around the back if you need anything,” he said to Collei. With that, he left the two of you alone.

“Collei, who was that?” you asked. You were somehow able to conceal the irritation in your voice.

“That was Master Tighnari. He can be a little harsh at times,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck, “but he's a really great guy.”

Her words didn't exactly quell the sensation in your gut. This Tighnari guy criticized both you and your dad in a single shot when he didn't even know you.

You put those thoughts aside to refocus on the job ahead. Once inside the house, you took out a textbook and a few sheets of paper and placed them on Collei’s desk. You instructed Collei to work through exercises to evaluate her current language skills. With excitement, she picked up her pencil and went straight to work. Fortunately, you could tell right away she'd be a good student.

Despite your earlier encounter with Tighnari, you were glad your father had told you about this job. Your previous one was getting tiring and you could schedule tutoring around other tasks and errands more easily. If only you could forget what your dad added.

"Who knows? Maybe you can even find a guy you like at this job," he told you.

"And how old exactly are your coworkers?" you asked, rolling your eyes.

You scoffed at the thought. You knew your dad was just teasing but you were content with being single. However, if a good guy came along, you wouldn't complain.

“I think I'm done now,” said Collei as she handed you the sheet with a bashful smile.

“You don't need to be so nervous around me, Collei,” you said. “I'm not that much older than you.”

Her smile grew larger. “I'm just really glad I was able to find someone like you. Master Tighnari has been teaching me this whole time and it was taking a toll on him.”

“Really?” you said, raising a brow.

“Mmhmm. He has a lot of work as the lead forest watcher so I wanted to help him out by hiring a dedicated tutor,” she explained.

So this guy would go out of his way to help someone like Collei. Maybe he wasn't as bad as you initially thought, but you still had some reservations.

After completing the lesson for the day, you packed up your belongings and Collei thanked you for your work. She was even eager for your return tomorrow, bright-eyed and ready to learn.

You stretched and yawned as you exited the house, and at the edge of the trail, you saw Tighnari standing there as if he were waiting for the two of you to finish.

You clutched your bag close to your chest as you walked towards the trail. You put some distance between yourself and Tighnari as you walked past him. Just as you thought you were about to successfully avoid him, he called out to you.

“Could I talk to you for a moment?” he asked.

You took a breath. “What is it?” you said, turning to him.

“There's something I want to clear up, if that's alright with you.”

You loosen the grip on your bag slightly.

“It seems that my comment earlier has caused some… undesirable effects. It wasn't my intention to be rude to you like that.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, raising a brow.

“You see, I'm quite sarcastic around your father. As my senior, he often pokes fun at me and I, in return, have my own way of responding to him. It's simply how we behave as coworkers.”

So that was what it was. You had thrown your own retorts to your father’s silly quips as well.

“I mistakenly assumed the two of you would have a similar temperament,” he continued, “which is why I behaved in that manner. When I realized there was a chance you might be more like Collei, I decided it would be best to clear this up with you. I didn't want to leave you with a bad impression of me. And so, I wanted to apologize to you.”

You relaxed your shoulders, and for the first time today, took a good look at him. An ear was slightly bent, showing that he was a bit ashamed of his assumptions of you, yet his eyes looked directly at you, sympathetic yet focused.

This was Tighnari. A straight shooter.

“Thank you,” you told him. “For clearing that up, I mean. Not just anyone would take the time to do that.”

“It's not a problem. It's the sensible solution. I'd do it for anyone,” he told you. He lifted his satchel and slung it over his shoulder. “Anyway, are you heading home now? I hope it's not too far of a journey for you.”

“I'm actually headed to the city to meet up with some friends.”

“I see,” he said with a hand on his chin. “In that case, I'll leave you to it. I'm heading to Pardis Dhyai in a bit. I'll see you tomorrow then.”

You lifted your hand to give a subtle wave as he walked back to the house. Collei left the building after hearing his call, and she retold her day to him with a skip in her step as the two of them went to look for a fellow forest watcher.

You spun on your heel and made your way to the city. Your feet were clear of dirt and sand. Perhaps your dad was right. The guys here didn't seem so bad after all.

*****

I hope you liked it! I might add a part two some day, but for now, it'll remain as a one-shot. :) (You can also check out my other fics as well.)

#genshin impact x reader #tighnari x reader #genshin impact #tighnari #genshin x reader #tighnari fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fanfics #tighnari fanfic #tighnari scenarios

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shootingstarpilot · 2 days

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okay listen. listen. i'm sorry, i had to get this out of my head, it's been haunting me and i want to get back to working on the next proper chapter-

the mimic lives au.

mimic is brought into the fold without question, of course. and needle- oh, needle's borne witness to the nightmares that force helix awake, shaking-not-screaming, and he knows enough-

so he makes mimic a voice.

it takes him just over a week to record the entire gbs dictionary. he breaks it down, keeps it alphabetical so it's easier to find the words. dictionaries of other languages are on the list. needle thinks maybe mimic can pick and choose which ones to prioritize later. they'll have time.

(they'll have time, isn't that a novel thought-)

but the dictionary is only part of it. there are plenty of manufactured voices out there already, after all.

the datapad becomes needle's newest conversational partner. he sets it up when he's on his own and lets his train of thought derail. spinning out stories both real and fantastical. drawing out threads until they reach the boiling point of absurdity and send him into a fit of giggles. he repeats the stories he'd told mimic just that afternoon, tells him about the jedi, about the temple, about making their own home. then he remembers what helix had said about mimic wanting to be a pilot, and goes and bullies comet into educating him on starfighters. he recites his lessons to the camera each evening in the moments of stolen solitude he can squirrel away before one of the others comes looking for him.

"it's like learning another language," he says, and wags a finger at the camera. "you're welcome."

needle gifts it to mimic a week after they arrive at the temple with a wireless earpiece to match. no pressure, of course, he says, grinning, just thought it could be a good resource to have, words to borrow at your fingertips, but i know i'm only tolerable in small doses, so-

he squawks when mimic's hug lifts him clear off the ground.

anyway. so. you see my vision.

helix jumps a mile when he first hears needle's laugh in mimic's mouth. stitch yells at needle for a bit about talking so much, needle, is this why your voice was so hoarse- and then restricts him to tea for four days until he's sure his throat has healed. sometimes it's too much, and mimic will stick his earpiece to the fridge and borrow words spoken right in front of him until his brain stops buzzing-

but it works. they work.

and then.

it's a few months in. they're comfortable. they're setting down roots.

then one night needle doesn't come home.

helix doesn't wait to raise the alarm. needle doesn't spend every night home, but he's good about comming when he'll be staying elsewhere. he knows helix is struggling with letting them leave his line of sight.

and now he's gone. and he didn't comm.

the first three days stretch into a week.

then a second week.

then a month.

and now, the vision that has been HAUNTING ME-

helix, clutching mimic's datapad, sitting on the edge of his bed.

the lights are low. his eyes are red.

he hits play.

"-ah, i love them," needle says, laughing. the laugh stretches into a yawn-

(that holds for one, two, three seconds, helix knows it now by heart-)

a knock at the door sounds in the video. needle hunches his shoulders, grimacing- his eyes are dancing, he's not annoyed, not really-

"be right out!" he calls, and then- helix's voice on the other side-

"get your beauty routine under control!"

needle waits until his footsteps have vanished before turning back to the camera-

(six footsteps before they fade enough to become inaudible- helix has counted them so many times-)

"i don't need one," he says, and winks at the camera- his eyes are shining, bright and happy- "he's just jealous all of this is effortless. night, mimic. talk to you in the morning."

the video ends.

helix sits in the dark.

after a moment, he taps at the datapad again.

"ah, i love them," needle says. his laugh- snorting, open, happy-

(one-two-three for the yawn-)

helix hits pause. rewinds.

"i love them," needle says.

pause. rewind.

"i love them."

pause. rewind.

"i love them."

pause. rewind.

"i love them."

#THERE ARE VAGUE PLANS FOR A HAPPY ENDING #BECAUSE I CAN WRITE SOME GOOD ANGST BUT I'LL ALWAYS DELIVER A HAPPY ENDING #but anyway this was cathartic #thank you all for listening to my ramblings #man it does feel better to get this on the page #on the post #whatever #MAYBE NOW MY BRAIN WILL LET ME FOCUS #going missing #inconclusive #heavily implied needle whump #helix needs a hug #shoulder the sky #mimic lives au

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zxoaii · 2 days

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Everyone but you

fem! reader x Mike Schmidt

Summary: Mike finally opens up about his soft spot for you.

WC: 4.8k

Warnings: NSFW 18+ (idk how to do this its smut)

A/N: I was already halfway through this when the votes tied for this and Peeta so let’s hope Peeta doesn’t surpass Mike

[ Y/n ]

“You know, you’re actually pretty weird.”

Mike looks up at me with an unamused look on his face. “I’m weird?” He takes a fry from my tray. I nod with my mouth full.

“I’ve never met a security guard who was as good looking as you.” My smile forces through mid-sentence. I can’t ever keep a straight face. Mike on the other hand can only keep a straight face.

He shakes his head at me and pulls his wallet out of his pocket. “Can you go get me some fries? Now I want some.” When he opens his wallet I catch a glimpse of a photo.

“Who’s that?” I reach out and grab his wallet. “That’s my sister, Abby.” He actually tells me. Mike omits most things about his life. “She’s cute. How old is she?”

The wallet is taken from my hands. “I’ll tell you if you go get me a large fry with some ketchup.” Our eyes meet for a moment. I’m the first to give in. His gaze always melts me.

“Fine.” I grab the five from his hand and get up from the table. As I make my way across the food court I glance at the clock on the wall.

Damn, I only have ten minutes left on my break. Sometimes I wish I had a reason to call security during my shift just so I could see Mike. He never really walks near the Victoria’s Secret.

I guess it’d be kind of weird if he lingered around it though…

“Hi. Can I just get a large fry please.” I look back at the table to check if Mike is still there. I’m not sure why I check like this when I leave. He always stays. And he always comes back too.

“Here.” The kid at the register hands me the receipt. “Thanks.” I take it and move off to the side to wait for the food.

Mike is a confusing guy. Most of the time I’m not actually sure if he likes me. He doesn’t smile or laugh. He doesn’t talk much either.

Maybe it’s obvious how smitten I am with him. I don’t think I could make it any more obvious. I drop hints for him like my life depends on it. He’s never really acknowledged or reciprocated any of them though.

“Large fry.” I grab the fries off the tray and a handful of ketchup packets. The crowds shift unpredictability. The food court is the worst part of the mall. Easily.

I shoulder my way through the crowd and weave through tables. “Here. Now, how old is she?” I drop into the seat and reach for the rest of my burger. “She’s six but she thinks she’s 16. That girl fights for independence like her life depends on it.”

Mike smiles a little as he talks about her. “You guys are close?” He doesn’t seem to mind talking about her. “Yeah.” Damn, I thought I’d get more than that.

“How much longer do we have?” Mike shovels his food. “Uhh… Five minutes.” A feeling of sadness actually washes over me.

“We should hang out after work.” That is the boldest I’ve been so far. It still doesn’t seem to faze him at all. “I can’t.” Mike takes one of my napkins to wipe ketchup off his face.

“Why?” The sting of rejection hits me hard. “I have to get Abby from school.” He looks back at the clock. “I can meet you somewhere after.”

“I don’t have anyone to watch her.” I’m taken aback by this comment. “What about your parents?” Maybe I’m prying too far now. “Look, if you want to do something you’ll have to come over to my place.”

Do something? I’d like to do a lot of something at his place. My stupid grin is too big to hide. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Mike nods and puts his trash on my tray. “I’ll meet you here and give you my address later then.”

I pull my sun visor down and open the mirror. Hopefully I don’t look slutty. Sexy but not slutty. He has a little sister. Maybe she’s actually his daughter…

That’s a bit of a stretch.

I check the time and shut my sun visor. My heart pounds in my chest. This is actually happening. I’m outside Mike’s house. About to go inside.

I used my employee discount to get a new lingerie set just for tonight. Not that I’m expecting anything or something like that… Just in case.

Mike doesn’t even liked being touched. Maybe he doesn’t like sex either. No, that can’t be it. Who doesn’t like sex?

It’s already five past four and I told him I’d be here at four. I turn my car off and step out. The small house has some random toys littering the front yard.

I make my way up to the door and ring the doorbell. Anxiety and anticipation fill my stomach. The door opens and I’m met with the brunette from his wallet.

 “Hi Y/n!” She greets me like she knows me. Mike rushes up and pushes Abby aside. “Go finish your dinner.” He mutters to her before turning to me.

We just stare at each other for a moment. Mike steps aside and I let myself in. “Take your shoes off.” Abby calls from the table.

I nod and discard my shoes by the door. There are three plates at the table. Oh god… He is her dad. Her mom is probably somewhere around here.

“I made you a plate.”

“What?” I turn to him, my cheeks heated with blush. “I didn’t know if you’d eaten yet so…” He gestures to the table. “No, I haven’t. Thanks.” I make my way to the table and sit across from Abby.

My plate is filled with mac and cheese and a hotdog. “Sorry… Abs requested this specifically. I would’ve made something nicer otherwise.” Mike sits down at the head of the table. “No, it’s better than what I would’ve had-”

“What were you going to have for dinner?” Abby pokes at her food with her fork. “Don’t interrupt.” She sends Mike an annoyed glance.

I shake my head and put my hands up. “She’s fine… I probably would’ve had some leftover takeout.” Abby nods and looks over to Mike.

I look over at him too, trying to understand what the exchange of glances means. Nothing is said or given away.

The two of them go back to eating like they had come to a silent agreement. I follow them and start eating the food on my plate.

“Y/n you’re really pretty. I hope I look like you when I grow up.” My face lights up. “Oh my god that’s so sweet. You’ll be prettier than me when you grow up. I’m sure of it.”

Abby turns to Mike again. I feel like I’m definitely missing something here.

The rest of dinner is filled with Abby talking about her day. She doesn’t mention friends. Or talking to anyone but her teachers. The only thing she really talks about is drawing. Mike looks at her like she’s the only thing in the world.

I wonder if he’s ever looked at me like that…

“Can I come with you to work on Saturday?” At this Mike actually rolls his eyes. “You know you can’t. I don’t want to do this tonight.” He takes her empty plate and goes into the kitchen.

Abby throws her head back and groans. I’m not working this Saturday. It would give me an excuse to see him… “I’m not working. I can watch her.” I blurt out.

Both of them stop and look at me. “Really?” Mike walks up behind Abby with his hands on his hips. God it shouldn’t be as sexy as it is. “Yeah, I don’t mind hanging out with you at the mall.”

Abby turns to face her brother. I can imagine the pleading look on her face. When Mike looks away with a sigh we both know his answer. I continue eating my food to avoid the annoyed look I’m being given.

I sit on the couch alone. The tv is on but my eyes linger on the hall. Mike went in to put Abby to sleep. I’m prepared for the lecture I’ll probably get when he joins me.

Hopefully he isn’t too mad about it though. When the door clicks closed I turn my attention to the tv. In my peripheral vision I can see him walk over to the couch.

“Want some popcorn?” He asks as he sits down on the other side of the couch. “No, thanks.” I look over at him. In his sweatpants and tee he looks like a fucking gift from god.

When Mike looks over at me I don’t bother to look away. Part of me wants to make a move. To finally find out if he wants me too.

“Y/n…” My stomach turns over as he says my name. “Yeah?” I find myself leaning in closer. “I… Abby can be a handful and I can’t pay you for watching her.”

My heart sinks in my chest. “Oh, that’s fine.” I slowly sink back away from him. The annoyance of this avoidance starts to build up inside me.

Does he want me? Does he not want me? Is it worth losing him as a friend if he doesn’t want me? What could happen if he says he does want me?

“Mike I’m interested in you.” I blurt out, not even looking at him. He turns to look at me. I avoid his eyes. The silence drags on for ages. With each passing second feelings threaten to burst out of me.

None of them good.

“I should go.” I quickly get up and head towards the door. As I pass him, Mike grabs my wrist. He stands up and tries to meet my eyes. I avoid him still. Tears threaten to fall.

I don’t need the rejection to be said. His silence was loud enough.

“Please. You don’t have to do this. It was stupid, if I’ve learned anything about you it’s that you hate everyone but your sister. That’s fine. I’ll watch her and-”

“Hate you? I don’t hate anything about you.”

At this point I’m so overwhelmed with contradictory feelings the only feeling that I can clearly feel is nausea.

“What?” Finally I look at him. My breath gets stuck in my chest. “I don’t hate anything about you.” He repeats. “You… Are everything. When I’m alone you are all I can think about. All I can want.”

I exhale a shaky breath. “You do things to me that drive me insane. You have had me since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

I’m left completely speechless. The only thing that makes sense is to pull him closer. I wrap my arms around his neck and smash my lips onto his.

Mike drops his hands to my hips. He pulls me in closer so our bodies are pressed against each other. Our kiss is lustful and desperate. Neither of us can get enough of each other.

We stumble around for a moment until my back hits the wall. His taste is intoxicating. Mike moves down to kiss my neck. I take quick and shallow breaths.

The heat pooling in my underwear is unbearable. I squirm under his touch. With one hand I grab his hair, I use the other to stifle my moans.

Mike pulls away from me and takes some deep breaths. “Is this ok?” He asks obliviously. “Don’t talk.” I pull him back in and kiss him again.

“Wait. Not here.” He pulls me with him into his room. As soon as the door is shut he pulls his shirt off. His toned body is better than I could’ve imagined.

My fingers trace the shape of his abs, sliding down toward his v-line. His heavy breathing drives me insane.

I reach down and lift my own shirt. Mike’s hands slide up my body and push it off me eagerly. “Fuck.”

The only light comes from the street lamps outside his window. It creates harsh shadows that define every inch of him. I reach down and slide my fingers into his waistband.

As our eyes meet I’m sure our intentions are the same. I remove the last of his clothes carefully. Mike steps out of his pants and pulls me over to his bed.

He sits on the edge and pushes me down into a kneel in front of him. Without exchanging any words I took his tip into my mouth.

“Ohh fuck.” His rough hand grabs the back of my head. My tongue works around his shaft. I use my hands to carefully rub what isn’t in my mouth. “Come on. You can take more than that.”

Mike’s hand puts pressure on my head. I sink lower on his cock, taking as much as I can. “That’s perfect. Good girl.” His hand slides off my head and down my back. My bra is unhooked and slides down my arms.

My hands work to undo my pants. As I pull my head back for air I work them down over my ass. Mike watches me through half lidded eyes.

He tugs his lip between his teeth as I lower my head again. The taste of his precum fills my mouth. My pants sit at my knees. As I try to reach down to relieve myself, Mike grabs my wrist.

“Don’t.” His voice is husky and demanding. I obliege and instead grab onto his legs. The sounds of my mouth fill the room. Mike’s quiet moans push me to do more.

My nails dig into his skin as his tip brushes the back of my throat. Nothing I’ve ever dreamt of compares to this. To the lustful look he has in his eyes.

Mike grabs my face to stop me. My desperation for anything for him shows out. As I sit on his floor with my pants half down and no top, Mike looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world.

“Stand up.” He demands. I slowly raise myself up from the ground. My pants fall to my ankles. Mike lifts my leg and removes my pants then follows with the other.

God his attitude has never driven me this wild. His lips caress my stomach. My fingers twist into his hair.

My hand clenches into a fist as his fingers brush against my core. “Jesus.” The feeling of his rough hands being so gentle with me drives me insane.

I know he can do so much more. I wish he would. “How’s this?” Mike’s finger brushes past my clit. “Good.” My voice shakes as I answer him.

“Just good? You deserve better than that.” His breath is hot on my stomach. I toss my head back as his fingers rub me harder. “Ah!” My hand covers my mouth to shut me up.

“Like that?” Mike kisses my belly. “Yes. God, don’t stop.” I roll my hips with his fingers. The feeling of hush tongue on my skin drives me crazy.

I want to taste his lips again. Not only that, I want him to just fuck me. A raw fuck would drive me insane.

“You’re so wet.” I look down at him, grabbing his shoulder for support. With his free hand Mike strokes himself. His lips tug into a smug grin.

“Give me more.” My pleads seem to get him off more. “Please. I don’t want to wait anymore.” I continue. “Fuck.” His fingers leave my body and with a swift motion and has me down on his bed.

Mike places himself over me. He leans down and presses his lips to mine in a needy kiss. Our bodies grind against each other.

We both want it so badly and simultaneously need this to last forever. This feeling of desperate lust.

“How many times have you thought of me like this?” I whisper as we pull away for air. “A million times.” Mike moves down to my neck, sucking on the bare skin.

My back arches up against him as his teeth add pressure. I have work tomorrow. I don’t bother mentioning it. I want everyone to know how hard I got fucked tonight.

Our make out session ends as abruptly as it started. Mike spreads my legs, holding my thighs apart. He looks to me for a moment. I nod back.

He adjusts himself until his tip is pressed against me. My hand grabs at the sheets. As he slowly thrusts into me, my grip tightens.

Mike’s hands press harder on my thighs. Strangled moans escape from my mouth. I fight to stay quiet. My body responds to him with pure pleasure.

“Jesus christ you were made for me.” His head falls forward between his shoulders. Mike thrusts into me at a steady speed. We touch each other like needy idiots.

My head digs into his pillow. I’m surrounded by him. His smell is intoxicating. His sounds are addictive. His touch is breathtaking.

“Mike.” I moan, reaching up to grab at his back. “Harder.” I hold him closer to me. Mike obliges and starts to fuck me harder.

“You’re so good.” He whispers, gripping my hip. How do we go back to normal after this? Do we? How do I keep my hands off of him after this?

“Turn over.” Mike pulls out of me with one sudden movement. I quickly turn onto my stomach. His hands grab my hips, pulling my ass up.

I dig my face into the pillow as I anticipate his penetration. When he finally slides back into me my moans are quieted.

“God, fuck.” He grunts as he builds back up to a steady rhythm. My legs start to slide apart with each thrust. Mike grabs them to steady me.

Warmth starts to build up in my stomach. I don’t want this to end yet. This hasn’t lasted nearly long enough.

My fists clutch his sheets again. I let myself moan more freely now that my face is in the pillow.

Our skin meets with a rhythmic clap. Mike tries to quiet it but doesn’t seem to care enough to change positions. Thank god.

I’ve never been fucked like this. I hope no one ever has the chance to fuck me again. This is it. No one could possibly be better than this.

“Are you close?” Mike groans. “Yes.” I choke out. “God your cunt is clenching around me.” One of his hands slides from my thigh to between my legs.

He presses onto my clit, circling his finger slowly. My whines start to creep out louder and louder. My orgasm builds up satisfyingly slow.

“Don’t stop.” I beg, laying my head in my arms. Mike continues with his movements. The feeling continues to build up more quickly now.

I feel Mike’s cock twitch inside me. His quiet profanities and grunts give away how close he is as well. I want to see his face as he finishes inside me.

“I want to see you.” My words come out more slurred than they should’ve. At first I’m unsure if he could even understand me.

Then in one swift motion Mike flips me over. His relentless fucking continues immediately after my back hits the mattress. Our faces are both damp with sweat.

His eyes lock with mine, his gaze piercing right through me. There’s nothing he couldn’t get from me. “You’re the most beautiful thing to ever walk this planet.”

I’m taken aback by his comment. Before I can respond my orgasm consumes my thoughts. My back arches up until we’re skin to skin again.

Mike slides a hand under my back, holding me tight. I sink my teeth into his shoulder to hold my moans in. “Fuck.” His grip gets even tighter. We both stay like this until our orgasms have passed.

I lay back down on his bed. Mike lays down next to me. We both stare at the ceiling while we catch our breath. I creep my hand over toward his. When our pinkies touch, Mike takes my hand in his.

“I like you so much.” He mumbles. “You don’t know how crazy you’ve driven me since I first saw you.”

My heart skips a beat in my chest. I turn my head to look at him. Mike looks over at me too. “I didn’t even think you liked me as your friend.” He did nothing to give it away. Ever.

“I don’t like anyone but you. You’re fucking mesmerizing.” He pressed my hand against his lips, kissing my knuckles.

If I’m dreaming don’t ever wake me up.

I lean in and kiss him again. His stubble contrasts my soft skin. The roughness he has is one of his sexiest qualities.

“Do you want to shower?” Mike whispers as we part. “With you?” My hand slides up to his shoulder. “I wouldn’t let you shower alone.” His smirk returns.

That fucking smirk. If he had flashed that at me any time before today I might’ve just grabbed him and kissed him right there. He doesn’t even know how sexy he is.

“I’ll go run the water.” Mike sits up and reaches for his clothes off the floor. “Here.” He slides his boxers back on then walks over to his dresser. I watch as he pulls out another pair of boxers and a tee.

“You can wear this.” As he drops the clothes on the bed he leans in closer to me. I meet him in the middle, pressing another kiss onto his lips. I’m desperate for his touch. Even after all that.

“Alright. I’m going to go get the shower ready… Come join me when you’re ready.” Maybe it’s too dark to see but Mike actually winks at me. Before I can ask him if he really did he’s leaving the room.

I collapse back onto the mattress. Jesus this guy is going to be the death of me.

#clapton davis #fanfic #josh futturman #josh hutcherson #mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt #peeta mellark #sean anderson #the hunger games peeta #x reader #smut #fnaf au #fnaf movie

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do-androids-dream-ao3acc · 2 days

Note

Well here are two for you.

Transfer thoughts and feelings when Buck considers joining the 217.

Anchor - for dating a pilot, Buck, never seen or dated someone so ground and stable as his boyfriend.

Hellloooooo sorry for being slow, this is finally my filling of another BuckTommy prompt! Nonny, I worked with your second one here and I'm afraid that the first one is probably not gonna happen, my muse is not striking there at all. Sorry about that! 3 more prompts are gonna come, no worries.

TLDR: Another BuckTommy, this time another approach on S07e07.

Exceptional

–– I won't deny the lies and deception I've sought, I've learned, I've grown ––

"Eddie's acting weird lately," Buck says.

"Do we have to talk about Eddie now?" asks Tommy, and the question is justified.

Buck's couch is just big enough for him to lie stretched out on it, his head in Tommy's lap. They just had an excellent meal, and satiety, contentment plus a good helping of wine lulled them both into a very pleasant mood. The kind of vibe that will make more of Tommy's gentle kneading of Buck's shoulders in no time – though talking about another guy is a bit of a mood killer in the process.

However, turns out that conversations about Eddie are unavoidable if you’re with Buck. And maybe there's something to it, because he adds, "I think he lied to me."

Something in his voice seems to catch Tommy's attention, he bends over to look at Buck. Those blue eyes are mesmerizing, and Buck would be willing to forget about it, to make Eddie a problem for another day. But Tommy... he's just too observant. He knows that Buck's trust is almost boundless, and that he’s fragile, should it be shaken.

"Why would Eddie lie to you?"

Another valid question.

"Something doesn't add up," Buck begins, and because he starts gesticulating wildly, Tommy captures his hands gently and holds them tight. "Christopher says Eddie bought a scented candle. What does he need that for?"

"Maybe he likes the scent, Evan."

"He's also been really nervous lately."

"Stressful job?" offers Tommy, definitely the voice of reason.

Although the subject is effectively over – for this evening – because Buck can't resist those blue eyes or those talented hands, he can't get the matter out of his head. Tommy thinks he should just ask Eddie, but how on earth is he supposed to do that? Buck realizes that his evidence for "Eddie's been weird lately" is very thin, and buying scented candles or acting suspicious is not a crime.

But the pieces of the puzzle are adding up, albeit very slowly. Christoper says, Eddie washes his clothes every night, yet he used to hate even his weekly washing day. Athena casually remarks that she saw Eddie's doppelganger in Silver Lake. Because it couldn't have been Eddie, he thinks Silver Lake is overly hip and expensive, and he prefers completely different restaurants than the one where Athena saw someone who looked very similar to him. Strangely similar, that's for sure. Hen says that she collided with Eddie while reloading the firetruck, and he reacted weirdly when she asked him about a key ring he accidentally dropped and she had never seen on him before.

The incidents pile up, and the 118 begins to worry. Tommy, although permanently in Buck's thoughts, hovers on the sidelines as far as the 118 is concerned, and his and Buck’s crazy shift schedules ensure that he doesn't catch much. He is therefore totally unprepared when, after what seems like an eternity, they finally have an evening off together and he is greeted at the door by Buck with, "Eddie's cheating."

Buck, contrary to popular belief that probably only exists in his own mind, is not an idiot, and he's completely smitten with Tommy. He knows it's not the smartest (or even the most polite) move to greet his love interest with another guy's name, even before the welcoming kiss. Buck is just so distressed, it makes him jittery. And he knows that Tommy has every right to be at least surprised, but more likely annoyed.

Tommy, however, doesn't even raise his brows at this greeting, and he is neither surprised, confused, annoyed nor offended. He just enters the loft, closes the door, looks at Buck attentively, and puts a hand on his arm (all the fine hairs there rise up) saying, "You're upset, Evan." Then he gently leads him to the sofa, they sit down, and Buck thinks, yes, indeed, I am.

It's just that he didn't expect this reaction. Buck knows he's a nervous wreck when things go differently than expected. For the most part, he has himself under control, he has adapted strategies, although his therapist describes this as evasive masking. But these strategies are usually necessary, because Buck has often run into walls. He's been told he's annoying, exhausting, overreacting and a dozen other unflattering things. Never before has someone he cares so much about taken him so seriously.

Tommy just lets Buck talk. Buck gives him his spiel on everything he knows about what happened, and it’s a confusing story about an Eddie’s-dead wife-lookalike. And then he drops the bombshell, at least that's how he feels, by saying, "I did that once, Tommy."

"You dated a doppelganger?"

"I'm serious," Buck says, but he can’t really blame Tommy for seeking to lighten the mood in this absolutely muddled affair. "I cheated."

He doesn’t elaborate, because this is nothing he likes to think back on. None of his best moments, definitely. And what kind of confession is that anyway? Is this something you tell someone you've only been out with a few times, had a few nice (hot) nights with? Rather, is this something you tell someone you care so much about? But maybe just then, Buck thinks. Maybe just then.

"You're scared," Tommy says, and it hits Buck to the core.

There's an icy knot in his stomach since Eddie told him the truth, and it finally has a name. The nervousness, his restlessness, all that shrinks into a single feeling, even if it doesn't make it any easier. Fear doesn't disappear just because it's recognized.

"Evan," Tommy says, and the care in his voice almost melts Buck, "I'm not afraid you'll cheat."

Buck takes a breath, but the words that were already on the tip of his tongue have suddenly vanished. That’s a strange thing to say, isn’t it? Just now, Buck’s confessed he cheated on a former lover, and most people would probably have replied reflexively that he had nothing to fear, that they would never do that to him. Even though it was him who cheated.

"How can you be so sure?" Buck returns, and strangely enough, he’s almost angry.

Because, let's break it down, Buck, when it comes down to it, the people he cares about will not want him, and they’ll leave. And if they don't, then he will leave; save himself the pain, because there has already been enough of that. He already knows what they will say, how they will react, doesn't he? Only... it’s different, it’s so different with Tommy.

Eyes as blue as a mountain lake, muscles saying don't mess with me, gentle words yet pithy charisma: inwardly and outwardly, Tommy is quite contradictory. But an enigma he’s not. A rock, Buck thinks, yes. That's what he is.

"I'm sure," Tommy replies with a confident smile, "because you want me as much as I want you."

Buck falls apart in the most pleasant way. Because that’s true. In all this mess, that is perhaps the only truth. Yes, Eddie lied, yes, the man cheated on his girlfriend, and yes, the parallels are scary because it's clear Eddie is shying away from a relationship. Eddie doesn't fall in love half as fast as Buck does, and he has certain morals and standards, and he has Christopher; all of that makes the affair seem so scary.

But Buck finally realizes that this can be solved. Eddie isn't just his friend, he's family, because family isn't what you're born into. Family can be a group of people who trust each other, and you don’t leave them alone, you take care of them and pounce on problems together.

And what is Tommy in all this?

Tommy with his loving gaze, his hand resting on Buck's arm, his thoughts only on Buck. Tommy, who doesn’t think he’s a nuisance because he’s talking about Eddie; he thinks Buck cares, and that’s valuable.

Tommy, somehow, is all of this and way more. For a pilot, Buck has never seen anybody so grounded, so stable as his boyfriend. Above all, he has never experienced anyone bring him down to earth so quickly, so easily and with such an inimitable look. His fear hasn't completely disappeared, perhaps that's quite impossible, but it's buried far, far down in a heap of thoughts that now revolve mainly around Tommy. He doesn't deserve the man at all. But he doesn’t voice this thought, because he allows himself a little selfishness. After all, Buck was struck by lightning and came back to life, only to be struck a second time. By Tommy.

"That's right," he says quietly, and then, as if it were a very sudden, very exhilarating realization, he repeats it, louder. "It's true. I want you."

Lock, stock and barrel, he thinks, and now his boyfriend finally gets what he deserves: all of Buck’s attention, all his care and affection.

Oh, and a kiss.

#writing #fanfiction #my fics #BuckTommy #Buck x Tommy #Buck/Tommy #9-1-1 #9-1-1 abc #9-1-1 fanfiction #Tommy x Buck #firepilot #tevan #evan buckley #tommy kinard

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velvetchrry · 1 day

Text

━━━━ PRETTY LITTLE BIRDS (3)

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader

2.4k. you go to work and run into some familiar faces.

“Seriously?! You played darts and he drove you home — that’s it?? Not even a steamy make out sesh in the car?!”

You shrug, nibbling on another little bite of your sandwich. “Maybe he’s just a gentleman. I mean, he did walk me to the door.”

Sasha snorts. “Yeah, or maybe he really is gay.”

“A loss to women everywhere, if true,” you add absentmindedly, looking out to the guys currently occupying the track. Most are running at a good pace, but some are off to the corner stretching. The sound of gunshots barely reaches your ears here from the range.

“Well, at least Jessica will be happy that you didn’t bone him.”

You jerk your head in her direction. “So she is pissed at me?”

Sasha shrugs. “More like embarrassed. I think she could have handled the rejection a little better if five minutes later you weren’t coming from the bathroom with Simon fucking Riley and heading straight for his table.”

You gotta give her that one. Hell, roles reversed — you might have been pissed at you. “Got me there.”

You like Sasha. She’s only a few years older than you, one of the nurses here. You hit it off instantly when she learned you were a nurse before — but especially when she learned you worked the ED for most of your nursing career. She, along with most of the other nurses, now prefer to come to you for things because you get what it’s like to be in their shoes and you have a little (quite a bit) more power than they do.

“Jess is a barracks bunny. She’ll get over it soon enough.” Sasha’s eyes go wide as saucers in realization of what she just let slip. She smacks you lightly on the arm. “And don’t ever, ever, ever, repeat that.”

“Barracks bunny?!”

Sasha shushes you and looks around before half-whispering. “She gets around. And guys like Simon? Well they’re untouchables, top of the bunny list. Nobody has ever heard of him sleeping with… well anyone. I was wondering if you might be the first.”

“And you?” you ask her.

“Nah, not for me. Don’t get me wrong, there's plenty of fit men here I would sleep with. But… I don’t really think I’m cut out for it.” She waves her hand around. “I don’t wanna end up falling in love with one of them and then worst happens. No, I’ll take a nice, boring job for my next man. A mail carrier maybe?!”

A chuckle escapes you listening to Sasha. Honestly, you hadn’t been here long enough to really start thinking like that. All your patients that had been in recovery from various accidents had nothing major. You go back to nibbling on your sandwich, enjoying the nice breeze that the day has provided. It’s very much Springtime, but smells reminiscent of Summer are in the air, and they always serve to lift your spirits.

“You know, speaking of Jess,” Sasha points towards the track, “I think she’s already over it.”

You follow her finger to see a blonde in blue scrubs that is unmistakably Jessica, talking to a few of the soldiers stretching near the track. You and Sasha burst into laughter, trying to cover your giggles with your hand in order not to draw too much attention.

“Anyway, I gotta split,” Sasha stands from where she was sitting next to you, brushes off the grass from her scrub pants. “Catch you later?”

You nod up at her. “Later, Sash.”

The rest of the afternoon flies by in a blur. You have a few routine physicals to clear soldiers for active duty, two combat-related injury managements (one bullet wound and one particularly nasty stab wound), and four family medicine exams — all for kids that live near base with their parents. A couple of routine vaccinations, one surprising case of springtime influenza and one broken bone.

By the time you finally slink out of your office from updating chart after chart, the sun is already starting its descent past the horizon. The base has quieted down considerably from this afternoon, other than what seems to be an impromptu soccer game on one of the fields. Football, you remind yourself.

You’re tempted to go over and watch… you’re pretty sure Monday nights are the ones where food trucks park past the first security check point — but you're bone tired. Bed sounds good, you think.

“What’re you still doing 'ere, dove?”

A voice from behind draws you out of your reverie, startling you slightly. You turn around to see Simon, clad in dark jeans, a black zip up hoodie and balaclava, same as when you first met him. He walks over, his long legs carrying him to you in just a few steps. “You working overtime?”

A sigh releases itself from your chest. “Busy afternoon, and I wanted to finish charting before I left for the night. What about you?”

He nods to the game happening just north of the two of you. “Soap’s playing. Figured I’d grab a bite and hang around, harass him a little.”

“Soap?” you ask, brows furrowed together.

He lets out a low chortle. “Johnny.”

“You call him Soap??” A slow smile graces your face.

“You saw him at the bar. Slippery little bastard.”

You can’t help it when a belly shaking laugh escapes you. The kind that causes you to cover half your face with your hand and hope to whatever deity that you don’t snort right in front of him. Simon chuckles along with you. “You eat yet?”

You shake your head no.

“Wanna join me?”

The tension in the air is suddenly thick —or maybe it’s the lump in your throat — but you can feel it. You can’t put a name to it but there’s something on a molecular level, brewing, buzzing, building when he’s around. Something that sings to your skin, electrifying it. You never been one to believe in soulmates; how could you, with the countless divorces you witnessed as a child? But this feels… tangible, real.

You shift your weight back and forth beteeen your feet and chew on your lip. Exhaustion is hitting you like a ton of bricks. Fuck it — what's that saying? You can sleep when you’re dead?

“Only if there’s a taco truck.”

You swear he's smiling under the mask. He holds out an arm to you. “There is.”

You both get some food, and find a good place away from the main crowd of spectators to sit down and eat. Simon takes off his sweatshirt and lays it on the grass, his broad arms looking like they’re about to pop out of the hem of his gray t-shirt. You take notice of the tattoo sleeve he has on one arm. “Sit,” he directs, pointing to his sweatshirt.

“Oh, I can sit on the grass…” you start to counter.

“Sweetheart,” he says a little sternly, almost like he’s reprimanding you. “Sit.”

You can’t help it when you stick a fraction of your tongue out at him playfully and sit on his sweatshirt. After taking the first bite of your taco you unintentionally let out a moan. “Fantastic.”

Simon has his mask rolled up to his nose and is stifiling a smile when you look over at him. You swear the speed in which he inhales his tacos is superhuman. He carefully rolls the mask down while you still have half of your food left.

A comfortable silence settles around the two of you. The game is rowdy, and you would expect nothing less. You easily pick Johnny out of the group of men playing — he’s on skins, not shirts — and keep an eye on him as you finish up your food. Once you’re done, you ball up your trash in stick it in the little baggie.

You pull out two sticks of gum and hand one to Simon, pointing at his twitching fingers. “A new oral fixation might help you if you’re trying to quit.”

His head whips in your direction. You blush, unsure if you said something wrong. He studies you a moment longer before clearing his throat and slowly taking the gum from your outstretched hand. He doesn’t speak until it’s in his mouth and the mask is rolled back down once again.

“How’d ya know?”

You give him a sheepish smile. “You mean, besides that it’s in your chart?” You pause, looking back over the game. “My dad was a smoker, rolled his own cigs and everything. I know the signs.”

He clears his throat again, shifting in his seat on the ground. “H..Have any suggestions?”

“Well, usually nicotine gum is better than this. But I’ve known things like lollipops, tic tacs or mints can work for some people. You just have to find the right thing for you that occupies your mouth.”

Simon shifts again, his stare burning a hole through you. You’re about to break the silence with something when Johnny runs over to you, absolutely drenched with sweat. “Glad to see parta me fanclub could make it!”

That serves to get a chuckle out of you. “Fanclub? Oh no, actually I’m here for him.” You point to a random guy in a shirt.

Johnny clutches his chest in an exaggerated fashion, and pretends to start sinking to the ground. “Breaking my wee heart, lass. Least I got LT.”

“Actually Johnny, I’m here for him too.”

Simon going along with your bit really makes you laugh, and you clutch your stomach and almost fall backwards at the face Johnny makes at the two of you. Simon splays his hand across your back to keep you upright until your giggles subside.

Johnny is getting called back to the field by someone. He points at the two of you while he jogs backwards. “This isn’t over!” he jokes.

“You guys always been close?” you ask after Johnny’s well out of earshot, peering up at him. He’s even tall just sitting next to you.

“Pretty much… he’s a good kid,” Simon settles on.

“Seems like it.”

Simon taps you lightly on the arm. “Just don’t tell him I said so, or I’ll never hear the bloody end of it.”

You smile at him. “Deal.”

It’s dusk now, and with it comes a slight chill in the air. Your eyelids are dangerously droopy as you try to keep focus on the game. You and Simon keep up a nice little chat, but neither of you are afraid to let a little silence settle in between you either.

“So…” he starts. “Any plans for the weekend?”

You purse your lips, eyes still tracking the ball and Johnny. “No, hadn’t thought about it yet. You?”

Simon takes a breath. It’s now or never. “Yeah, got a wedding on Saturday.”

“Oh! That’s fun! I love weddings,” you say absentmindedly.

“Yeah… they’re alright. I actually… erm… don't have a plus one yet… and I’m in the wedding party so…”

You stop watching the game and turn to look at him, wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue. “You need a date?” You shyly smile.

“Yeah… do you… would you like to come? As my… my date?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth. “Okay. I'll be your date, Simon.”

“Lovely. Thank you, dove.”

•·················•·················•

Simon’s not a good man, despite the fact that he’s somehow led you to believe otherwise.

He tells himself the listening device he put in the trees at 0500 this morning was well intentioned. For your safety. Only to be able to listen in if any creeps tried to approach you on your lunch break. But now he’s been listening to you and your coworker chat since she sat down 20 minutes ago.

Simon knows a good man wouldn’t do that.

He also knows a good man wouldn’t camp out near your office to see when you leave for the day. To be fair, he had meetings with Price later this afternoon and Johnny did push him to bring you as his plus one for the wedding. He wanted to give you a fair heads up since it was this Saturday. What if he’d asked you later in the week and you’d decided to go out of town?

He wasn’t sure if you’d accept his offer to hang out after you were done working. Hell, he was just going to leave if you didn’t — he loves Johnny like a brother but he’s got better things to do than watch the bloody base footie game. Things to prepare.

“A new oral fixation might help you if you’re trying to quit.”

He’s instantly hardening hearing you say that, mind running a thousand miles an hour. Oh, he would love a new oral fixation, and he definitely has one in mind. He’s been craving a cig since he sat down but he figured you probably wouldn’t be into it, and the last thing he would want to do is turn you off of him.

He shifts how he’s sitting, trying to not make it obvious what he’s thinking. If you looked down, you would know. Lucky for him you don’t, but he knows that his lack of response is making you feel like you did something wrong. So he takes the gum.

“You just have to find the right thing for you that occupies your mouth.”

Fuckin’ hell love. Now he can’t think straight. How is he supposed to just sit here with you like normal when you say these things to him? He’s painfully hard now. His skin is on fire under the mask.

He sees his saving grace when Johnny starts running over to the two of you. Your playful banter with him helps take his mind off it… a little.

He’s nervous. So fucking nervous. It’s a new emotion for him — he’s always so confident, so sure. Has never cared enough to be worried about the sting of rejection before. You can’t say no to him, because he’s not sure he’ll recover.

And… you don’t. You don't say no. Even though he fumbles a bit with the ask. Even though he can barely get the words out himself. You say okay. You say you’ll be his date.

“You just have to find the right thing for you that occupies your mouth.”

I think I already have, little dove.

#call of duty #cod x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #my work #pretty little birds

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undercover-grisha · 2 days

Text

Six Months - Short Fic

Kaz Brekker woke up to his wife hitting him with a pillow. He blinked up at the dark ceiling. Inej sleepily tossed the pillow over him and in the direction of the noise that had obviously woken her up.

Kaz sat up, rubbing his face with both hands. Inej woke before him? Ghezen, he was getting rusty.

The noise hadn’t stopped. Kaz felt a soft, grumbling urge to throttle something growing in his stomach.

Instead he grabbed his cane— the wooden one that Inej insisted he used in the house so as to not give Jordan the chance to hurt himself on the sharp metal crow’s beak of his regular cane.

(Kaz understood the thought process behind the decision. It still hadn’t stopped him from keeping his cane with him until the very last moment possible. When Jordan reached and grabbed that stupid duck, Kaz had fought violently to keep his face from the narrow-eyed scowl he’d so wanted to do.)

So Kaz grabbed his cane and headed off down the hall. He clumsily buttoned the top of his shirt back together after it had apparently come undone during the night. He was stalling. Just a little, but still.

Kaz let out a breath, slightly strangled in nature, and raised his eyes to the slotted wooden rafters in the hallway. Six months. Just six short months since Jordan Harajj Ghafa had come screaming into the world, pudgy little brown face all scrunched up and furious that someone has disturbed him.

Kaz had never felt as full of life as he had in that moment.

Which was good, because it gave him plenty of energy to work off during the following weeks when the kid would not shut the hell up.

He’d eventually calmed down, of course, as all babies did, but there were still these occasional outbursts.

Kaz slowly opened the door to the nursery and stepped inside. He was sure the kid was just hungry, which, of course he was screaming about it, he couldn’t very well feed himself. Didn’t make waking up in the middle of the night any less annoying.

Kaz’s cane clicked on the wood floors as he shuffled over to the bassinet. Jordan was sitting up in his crib, gripping the bars like he’d been sentenced to Hellgate under false charges. He quieted as his father approached, and let go of the bars, as if he knew he was in trouble. Kaz leaned the tips of his elbows on the edge of the crib and clasped his hands together, leaning all his weight on his better leg and popping his bad leg to let it stretch.

Jordan stuck his hand in his mouth.

“You are a terror.” Kaz murmured. Jordan hummed around his fist, his eyes still watery. Kaz pulled his shirt sleeve up his hand and gently dabbed at the wet skin. He’d gotten better about touch in the past few years, obviously good enough to have a son, but he still didn’t like to risk his ability to handle water.

“Most people try to sleep through the night. You seem to be trying your damndest to sleep around it.”

The Bastard of the Barrel scooped his son up and headed out of the nursery and into the kitchen. He set Jordan on his stomach on carpet and opened the cabinet to find a pot. Kaz set the pot on the stove and turned to grab the milk out of the icebox. He paused momentarily as Jordan pulled himself up with a chair on wobbly legs out of the corner of his eye.

“Oh, good job.” He murmured, half paying attention.

Wait.

Kaz froze.

No no no no no. No. This could not be happening now, not when Inej was asleep. Not again.

“Stop.” He tried.

Jordan did not stop. He bounced his legs.

“Jordan Ghafa, stop it now.”

Jordan looked up at his name. He let go of the chair.

Kaz strode over to the boy and flexed his hands slightly, unsure of what to do. Jordan babbled at him, giggling and bouncing on his legs.

Kaz picked him up. And set him down on his stomach, and put a toy in his hands.

Nothing happened. Nothing at all. There was no standing. If Jordan could stand tomorrow in front of his mother, well, Kaz would celebrate that then.

Kaz hesitated. He gently pat Jordan’s head and the boy looked up at him with those big, molten eyes.

“Very good.” He said, going for praise and wincing at how much it sounded like he was training a dog.

Dirtyhands turned to finish heating up the milk for his son.

#Y’all rly liked my last Kaz and Baby Jordan post so…#six of crows #soc #chicks of crows #kaz brekker #kanej kid #kanej #shadow and bone

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rubenhopclap · 1 day

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i hate to bug you with even more asks about this last stretch of junior year but all your posts and responses to it have been very interesting!

i just want to add to the discussion that how this turns out is partly just brennan's dm style, he's very much one to pivot based on his party's expectations and stories they want. this is a positive and it works well for their group but it leads to occasional discrepancies

fantasy high itself has 'frat bro' helio, not at all supported by what was actually shown in his freshman year appearance but his portrayal in later seasons changes to match this. even porter as a villain is this, in a meta sense, meta wise he absolutely was not planned to be villainous until sophmore year (brennan even saying he changed this in response to emily)

that's what makes ratgrinders discourse tough, they're going to be as 'redeemable' as the bad kids/intrepid heroes do or do not want them to be.

the only thing i'm worried about is the the train of friendly NPCs who will not take their friends' deaths well. you've already mentioned henry, but if they DO revive lucy i think she'd realistically have pretty complicated feelings about being saved but her whole friend group being dead (feelings that likely won't be confronted or could be brushed aside for a feel-good ending)

DnD inherently works on player and protagonist centric morality and fantasy high villains as a whole kinda pull back the curtain on that

Happy to be a chill space for people to share their thoughts!

You're absolutely right about Brennan letting his players take the lead like that. And as he said in the recent AP, not even just adapting to their wishes, but extrapolating on their bits to use against them.

But there is also the stuff that he did decide previously and we do or don't see it, based on the players. I've seen people say that Ragh didn't have anything sympathetic planned until the BKs chose to revive him, but - unless that's confirmed somewhere - rewatching his intro where he's like "idk it just makes me So mad when people mess with you man". I feel like the story was there. But if they hadn't revive him, we just wouldn't know.

In Neverafter, I think he said the fairies were supposed to be a faction that they could reasonably choose to support?

Either way, the players may not be the final word on whether a character is redeemable, but they certainly get to decide whether anyone is redeemed.

I'm kind of in a weird place as far as the discourse on that goes.

Because like, I'm gonna wail and gnash my teeth when anything happens to Ruben. Because that's what I do when a character death or something fucked up really hits in scripted media, like books or whatever. And it's tasty, I love it, I love to suffer. I'm not blaming any real people for doing it (although sadly I must name Fig's crimes when I name crimes committed against him and I don't want people telling me I'm not allowed to have fun that way because It's Not That Serious). That's called having a blorbo.

Stepping back from that though, I genuinely care more, for example, that Ruben got rescued from Wanda Childa bit hell than whether he got sent to an actual hell, in itself. Between what actually happened, and a hypothetical world, where he was redeemed by his eyes turning into hearts and his tongue hanging out and floating over to the BK's side, transported by her scent... I mean I pick what actually happened. Thank god.

But to your point... yeah it does make the characters left over a concern. We've never met Lucy, so... I suppose there's a way to make her such a complicated woman. But it would feel cheap if Henry's nephew suddenly wasn't a priority, when that's one of the few things we've had about him.

I do feel like Brennan hasn't really been doing anything like that this season though. Like Ruben isn't in love with Wanda enough to not fight her. Plying Mary Ann with plushies doesn't work. Because those things just wouldnt work, regardless of if the BKs want them to, or understand why they won't.

So I'm not like... worried. But if I had to pick my least favorite things to happen that technically could happen. yeah, it's on the list.

#if simulacra theory is real just to take Ruben-with-a-life-of-his-own away from me.. put it back i dont want it #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fhjy spoilers #discourse containment #i dont think anyone is wrong for enjoying differently than me or having a different relationship to the discourse than me obviously #i rb a lot of stuff that is not exactly how i feel about it but i think it's interesting anyway #and if i dont rb it i still mostly think it's interesting. im sure there's much wilder stuff out there that i just havent seen

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bloodylullaby · 14 hours

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Give Me Something Beautiful

Summary: Morrigan's ordinary life takes an extraordinary turn when Noah Sebastian, the lead singer of Bad Omens, stumbles upon her quaint little shop adorned with her captivating photography. Intrigued by her talent and drawn to her genuine spirit, Noah invites Morrigan to capture the essence of his band's concert through her lens. Their initial friendship blossoms into a deep and meaningful connection as they spend time together, fueled by their shared love for art and music. Despite their challenges as their worlds collide, Morrigan and Noah navigate the complexities of fame and intimacy, ultimately finding solace and strength in each other's arms. Through their journey from strangers to lovers, they discover that amidst life's chaos, true beauty lies in the simple moments shared between two souls destined to be together.

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x OC

Content Warning: None

Word Count: 2255

MasterList

Tag List: @thescarlettvvitch @malerieee @lookwhatitcost @herbhuntress @thatgirlforever5 @xxkittenkissesxx

Chapter Five

The unwelcome arrival of 4 A.M jolted me from my sleep far sooner than I had hoped. With my eyes fixed on the ceiling, the shrill sound of my phone alarm pierced the room's stillness. As consciousness slowly enveloped me, excitement and apprehension began to stir within. It's hard to fathom that I'll soon embark on a tour with a band for the next few weeks. Frustrated with the persistent alarm, I finally silenced it and sat up, stretching out the lingering traces of sleepiness.

Reluctantly, I remain seated on my bed, my gaze fixed on the wall, attempting to muster the motivation to rise. Suddenly, the familiar sound of my phone disrupts the silence, prompting a resigned sigh to escape my lips. I glance at the screen and notice Noah's name flashing as an incoming call. Embracing my inner non-morning persona, I answer the phone with a groggy tone, murmuring, "Hello?"

A chuckle escapes him, his voice warm and soothing. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. I'm just checking in to make sure you're up. I figured that early mornings aren't your thing."

"I'm up," I confirm with a chuckle, grateful for the call. "Though I must admit, getting out of bed is a bit of a struggle at the moment." His laughter washes over me, bringing a sense of refreshment. It's a sound I could get used to waking up to.

“We will be there around 4:45. Does that work for you?” he asks in a gentle tone. A smile tugs at my lips as I glance over at the time, but it quickly fades when I see the clock read 4:20. I clear my throat to attempt to sound like I am already moving around.

"Yeah, that's totally fine with me," I responded, my voice tinged with nervousness, punctuated by a chuckle.

"You haven't gotten ready yet, have you?" Noah's voice carries a hint of smugness. I sigh, realizing my attempt to conceal my lack of readiness has already been uncovered.

"Maybe, slightly... possibly," I admit sheepishly, prompting a louder laugh from him. "But hey, since we packed everything yesterday, all I really have to do is shower and get dressed. Which, by the way, I could be doing right now if you weren't teasing me on this call," I point out, unable to suppress a giggle.

"Alright there, sassy pants, I'll let you go. See you soon," he says, and we exchange goodbyes. With that, I rush into the shower, taking the quickest one I've ever taken. Afterward, I swiftly brush my teeth and pack my oral hygiene items into a small travel bag. Racing back to my room, I hastily throw on an oversized band shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans that I usually sleep in. I quickly slip on my shoes and glance at my phone, granting myself a two-minute buffer. With a sense of accomplishment, I give myself a high-five and a pat on the back, proud that I managed to get ready without keeping anyone waiting.

I heard a knock on the door and opened it with a smile, finding Noah and Nicholas on the other side. "Noah! Nicholas! Welcome! I moved my bags closer to the door for you so it would be easier," I exclaimed excitedly. They gave me a weird look and then chuckled while looking at each other. “What’s so funny?” I asked.

They exchanged a curious glance before chuckling softly. "Oh, it's nothing," Noah replied, trying to suppress his amusement. "It's just... you're so eager and thoughtful. It's endearing." I couldn't help but feel perplexed by their reaction. "Well, I just wanted to make things easier," I said with a shrug, still puzzled by their laughter.

Nicholas chimed in, adding, "Also... We just found it funny and cute that you used my full name like that. You can just call me Nick." My cheeks started to flush slightly as I nodded in understanding.

Noah and Nick smiled knowingly before Noah spoke again, "Anyway, are you all set to go?" I nodded eagerly, feeling excitement coursing through me despite my earlier confusion. "Absolutely, let's hit the road!" I exclaimed, watching them grab my bags. As I followed them out the door, we stopped in front of the van they drove to get me. I looked around, a little confused.

"What's up?" Noah asked with a hint of amusement in his tone.

I couldn't help but feel a bit sheepish as I voiced my confusion. "Are we not going to be traveling in a tour bus?"

"We thought it would be easier if we picked you up in the van and took you to the tour bus," Nick explained, his voice reassuring. I nodded my head with understanding and got into the back. The drive to the buses took a good 30 minutes, providing me with the perfect opportunity to catch up on some sleep. While I dozed off, Noah and Nick kept themselves awake.

Nick woke me up five minutes before we arrived, allowing me to wake up and regain my excitement. As we pulled into the parking lot, my eyes widened in amazement. These tour buses were massive! It dawned on me that this was the first time I'd been on a tour bus and the first time I'd even been close to one. The excitement of the adventure ahead intensified as I gazed at the imposing vehicles waiting to whisk us away on our journey.

I step out of the vehicle and find myself standing in awe, taking in the grandeur of the tour buses. Noah joins me, his slight smile reflecting the wonder of the moment. "Crazy, isn't it?" he remarks softly. I nod gently, meeting his gaze, feeling a flush creeping up my cheeks. Quickly, I averted my eyes and glanced over at the other tour bus, searching for a distraction.

"There are two buses. What's the second one for?" I inquire, curious about the setup.

"That's the bus for the crew, but you'll be staying with us on our bus," Noah reassures me with a comforting smile. I blush a little but cover it up before he notices. I comment on how thoughtful that is as I follow Noah onto our designated bus, leaving my bags behind so they can be put into storage. As we entered the bus, I noticed a cozy living room area and a compact kitchenette. We walked past them, heading towards what appeared to be the bunk area. I observed the layout of the bunks, noticing two rows of three on each side. The front bunks were already claimed. Opting for some privacy, I selected the middle bunk closest to the back and settled in, eager to make this space my own for the duration of the tour.

"Found your bunk?" Noah asked, appearing behind me. I turned around, a big smile spreading across my face as I nodded in excitement. "Good, we made sure to try to give you some options without having to deal with us too much," he said with a smile.

“Thank you,” I said appreciatively.

"No problem at all," Noah replied warmly, his expression reflecting genuine hospitality. You can decorate the bunk however you like. Do you want me to bring your suitcase so you can do so?" Noah asked kindly. I nodded eagerly, appreciating his offer, and watched him head out to retrieve the blanket and pillow. With a slight squeal of excitement, I opened the curtain to my bunk, eager to start making it feel like my own cozy space for the journey ahead.

Peering into the bunk, I noticed a cozy comforter blanket and a soft pillow, both in a soothing shade of light blue. My eyes widened with excitement as I spotted a miniature movie player hanging from the ceiling. To top it all off, there was enough room for two people to squeeze in, so I had enough space to starfish without fear of falling out. Soon after, Noah arrived with my smaller bag, containing my cherished items—a blanket handmade by my mother, an extra pillow, and the small stuffed platypus I had cherished since childhood.

The plush toy, once adorned with vibrant brown fur, now showed signs of age with its faded exterior. Despite this, its round, button-like eyes maintained a gentle gaze, while the meticulously stitched bill and webbed feet hinted at years of companionship. Despite the wear and tear, the plush retained its soft and comforting texture, serving as a poignant reminder of cherished memories from years past.

Once I settled everything in my bunk, I joined the boys in the sitting area. Noah patted the space next to him, and I eagerly took the opportunity to sit beside him. He smiled at me before returning to his conversation with Jolly and Bryan. Stifling a yawn, I looked at my phone; it was almost six in the morning. Rubbing my eyes, I caught Folio’s attention, and he leaned over to me.

“Why don’t you go lay down, Morrigan? We're about to leave anyway, and it will take most of the day before we reach our destination," Nick suggested. His words caught Noah's attention, and he leaned in, gently poking my shoulder to gain my attention. When I turned my head to give him my full attention, I caught my breath slightly due to how close we were.

"Would you like me to show you where the restroom is?" Noah gently asked. I nodded in response, allowing him to lead the way. As we walked to the back of the bus, passing the rows of bunks, he guided me to the end, where a button was mounted on the wall. Noah activated the mechanism by pressing the button, causing the door to slide open, revealing a small bathroom.

"Well, that was extremely cool," I blurted out, my eyes wide with amazement. Noah chuckled at my reaction and gave me a playful pat on the head.

"I'm glad you're adjusting well to everything so far," he said, his expression sincere as he looked at me. I nervously cleared my throat before changing the subject.

"Thank you again, Noah. I appreciate not only this opportunity you're giving me to shadow Bryan but also the kindness and hospitality you have already shown me so far," I expressed gratefully. He gave me a warm smile, then suddenly became shy.

"We're friends now; of course, I'll shower you with as much love and affection as I can," he joked, his tone light and playful. I gently nudged his arm and returned to the bunks, reopening my curtain. As Noah peers in, a smile spreads across his face, his eyes lighting up as they land on the old platypus stuffed animal nestled inside. His smile widens even more as he spots the toy. "Aw, that's cute," he remarks, his gaze lingering affectionately on the beloved childhood companion. I can't help but return his smile, feeling a comforting warmth as I witness his genuine reaction.

As Noah's smile widens at the sight of the stuffed platypus, I feel a rush of warmth. "Yeah, it's been with me for as long as I can remember," I share fondly. Noah nods, his eyes still fixed on the plush toy, before smiling at me. "It's nice to have a piece of home with you on the road," he says softly. I nod in agreement, grateful for his understanding.

"Would you like to hold him? His name is Phillip." I asked teasingly, offering the plush toy with a playful grin.

Noah chuckles at the playful gesture, shaking his head slightly. "I think I'll pass on holding Phillip for now, thanks," he responds with a smile.

I playful gasp and hold Phillip to my chest, covering his head where his ears would be if he had any. “Be careful what you say in front of him; he is compassionate.”

Noah laughs at the playful exchange, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise. "Oh, my apologies, Phillip," he says, feigning sincerity. "I'll be sure to watch my words around you from now on."

"Thank you; he appreciates it," I reply in a playful tone. We both looked at each other briefly before we busted out laughing. Suddenly, the bus starts to move, causing me to lurch forward. Before I can react, Noah reaches out and catches me in his arms, steadying me with a grin. As Noah steadies me in his arms, our eyes meet, and time seems to stand still for a brief moment. Then, with a sheepish smile, he helps me regain my balance as the bus continues. We exchange a knowing glance, a silent acknowledgment of the unexpected moment.

Sheepishly, I clear my throat and glance at my bunk. "Do you think you can help me get in? I've never climbed into a middle bunk before," I say lightly, laughing. Noah smiles warmly and extends a hand, assisting me as I climb into the bunk, grateful for his support. I shift my gaze towards him, expressing my gratitude.

"No problem, Morrigan. Sleep well. We'll keep it down," Noah said gently. I bid him good night, and he closed my curtain for me. As I listened to his sounds fading away, I covered my face and took a deep breath. These next several weeks will be hard for me, especially with him being this adorable. As I replayed the event of him catching me in his arms, I snuggled up with my stuffed platypus and drifted into a peaceful slumber.

#bad omens band #noah sebastian #bad omens #fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #noah sebastian davis #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fluff #bad omens fluff #bad omens cult

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melanieph321 · 1 day

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Dominik Szoboszlai x Black Reader - Not Enough Part 2/6

Part 1

Summary - Reader is excited to meet Dominik's parents but is choked to find out that they are very prejudiced and do not approve of her.

Enjoy!

You fell in love with Hungary. It was such a beautiful city with such a vibrant culture. Everywhere you went, people seemed to engage in activities that you had never heard of before. Like pottery, for example. It was definitely an odd activity to engage in, especially in the middle of the street. However, the Hungarian's seemed to enjoy it. You even brought home a pott that a lady had worked on for more than an hour. It was decorated with hearts which you thought would be a suiting gift for your boyfriend.

"Honey, I'm home!" You announced. You and Dominik had been staying at a hotel while in Budapest. It was a nice little getaway for you, but for Dominik, it was just another business trip. The Hungarian people were crazy about him. And ahead of the European championship, Dominik and his teamsmates are required to meet with fans and stakeholders of the Hungarian men's football team. This left you to roam the streets of Budapest on your own since Dominik was busy during the day. Nevertheless, there was no better feeling than coming home to the love of your life.

"Wake sleepy head. I got you a present."

"Hmmm?"

You found Dominik sleeping on top of the bed, fully clothed.

"I'm sorry to wake you, baby. Did you have a long day?"

"Yes, now don't just stand there, bring me my gift." Dominik was quick to release the pillow he had been hogging in his arms. He then stretched for you where you stood beside the bed.

"Come here." He muttered. "Bring me my gift."

You chuckled as his grasping hands tugged your shirt. Dominik pulled you down to lay with him in bed, smothering you with tight hugs and kisses.

"Baby, I'm not your gift."

"Yes, you are." He said, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck. "The best gift I've ever gotten."

"No, I actually bought you something from the street market that I visited today."

"You did?"

The kisses seized.

"Yes, would you like to have it?"

"Hell yeah, bring it here!" Dominik was quick to sit up in bed, not minding the way his hair was tousled from the sheets. He watched you slip out of bed and retrieve the gift from your bag. He was like an eager child on Christmas Eve as you brought it to him, wrapped paper, containing the sculptured pot. Dominik ripped it open despite you warning him to be cautious. However, his shoulders rose and fell at the sight of it.

"It's a...mug?"

"No baby, it's a pott."

"A what?"

"A pott, like for decorations."

"Oh, a pott." He nodded, although the dent between his brows gave him away. "What are you supposed to do with it?"

"I dunno, you tell me?" You chuckled. "The lady said it's a tradition for Hungarian's to engage in pottery." You joined Dominik on the bed again, watching as he turned the pott in his hand, regarding it with furrowed brows.

"Well, If it's not for drinking, I don't know what it's for."

"Ha ha." You muttered, unhanding him the decor item. "I thought it was cute, and if you don't like it, I'll just gift it to your parents instead."

"My parents?" Dominik frowned.

"Yeah, when we visit them."

"Right, about that..."

"What?"

You had always dreamt of meeting Dominik's parents. It only seemed natural after the two of you celebrated your three year anniversary. But every time you brought up, Dominik seemed to hesitate and would often change the subject. You thought things would be different arriving to Hungary but even here, when the distance to his family was no longer the issue, Dominik still hesitated to bring you there, insisting that you stay in Budapest where the travel to meet and greet with the Men's team would be less.

"I just don't think that it's a good idea." He said.

"But you always say that."

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but I didn't come here to visit my family. I have a job to do."

"Really, then why do I get a feeling that you don't want ME to meet your parents."

"Y/N." Dominik sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It's just... my parents can be a bit... difficult," he said, choosing his words carefully. "They're not very open-minded, and they can be pretty judgmental."

You felt a pang of disappointment and hurt. So Dominik really didn't want to introduce you to his parents. But why? Was he embarrassed of you?

You tried to keep your emotions in check and pressed him for more information. "What do you mean by 'difficult'?" You asked, trying to keep your voice even.

"Well... they have a certain idea of what kind of person they want me to date, and it's not always the most... inclusive," Dominik replied, his voice filled with frustration. "They've made it clear that they don't approve of me dating someone from a different culture, and they've said some pretty hurtful things in the past."

You felt a wave of anger wash over you. "Well, we're not dating Dominik, I'm your girlfriend, of three years to be exact"

"I know, I know." He walk over to you, grabbing your head in his hands. "You're my girlfriend." He smiled, eyes bright in the sun. "And I want you to meet my family, trust me. But you must also trust me when I say that it's not a good idea right now."

How was this true, you thought. How could Dominik's parents be so close-minded. What exactly had Dominik told them about you? There was only one way to find out. You knew that you had to meet them and confront them to show them that you were a worthy partner for their son.

"I want to meet them," you said, voice firm. "I want to see for myself what kind of people they are, and I want them to see that I'm not just some 'other' person, I'm your girlfriend."

Dominik stared into your eyes, surprised by your determination. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

"Yes, I'm sure," you replied, your heart racing with anticipation. "I'm ready to meet the parents."

Part 1

#fanfiction #football imagine #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #football angst #dominik szoboszlai #dominik szoboszlai x black reader #dominik szoboszlai x reader #dominik szoboszlai imagine #dominik x reader #liverpool fc

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