#aside from a new monitor i guess
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Smoke Eater - Part 5
Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader
Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.
That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.
🔥 Series Masterlist
Word Count: 5,000
Tags/Warnings: Fluff, house fire, perilous situations, angst, hurt/comfort
Part 5: “Twitterpated”
“Hey there, beautiful,” Dean said.
His voice alone was enough to cause a shiver tingling down your spine.
You couldn’t help but giggle as he once again drew you into a kiss. He held you close by the waist. Feeling his hands spanning your lower back was doing things to you, but you knew you had to keep a level head here.
“Dean,” you said. Your lips curved against his. “We’ve said hello about three times now.”
“Wanna make it four?” he suggested. His voice was deep as sin.
Damn this man, you thought. He was a professional flirt.
But you laughed, and he smirked at the sound. He resisted letting you go when you playfully tried to pull away. The two of you were standing in the middle of your small office, in front of your desk at work. A large bag of takeout was perched on your desk, but neither of you cared about food just yet.
Dean liked the look of you in your navy blouse, tucked into a trim pair of pants, down to your smart heels.
“Tell me you didn’t go up all 20-something flights of stairs in those daggers you got on,” he remarked.
You followed his gaze down to your heels.
“Oh no,” you said. “I’ve got a backup pair of sneakers that I came to work in. Then I slip these on behind my desk. No one’s the wiser.”
Dean enjoyed that playful little smirk you gave him. He still couldn’t believe you’d walked all those stairs, but he guessed he couldn’t begrudge you for your lingering fear of elevators.
“Yeah? What else do you get up to behind that desk? Besides work, that is,” he teased. You guffawed and playfully hit his arm.
He chuckled and finally released you. You’d already dragged a spare chair next to yours behind your desk, so he began helping you unearth the various containers in the bag he brought. All the while, he surreptitiously took an inventory of your office.
It was all very neat and organized, just like you. You had a large window right behind you, which let in some much-needed natural light. There were tile floors, like the rest of the building, but while your desk was an old wood, clunky thing, you had a double monitor setup with an organized file system on either side.
As you pushed things aside and made room for the food, Dean noted the way stray pieces of hair fell from your clip, framing your face. He itched to take that clip out and make that hair wild, maybe even wrapping it around his hand.
Instead, he reached out and tucked a few strands behind your ear. It earned your attention with a soft blush.
“What?” you asked.
“Nothin’,” he grinned. He was treated to one of your shy smiles as you continued in your task.
Soon you and Dean were once again sharing good food and conversation. You explained what you did for work, being a Senior Sales Representative at Savage & Co. He listened, offering interjections here and there: gems like, Josh sounds like a fucking idiot. And, so does your boss. You couldn’t disagree.
In the back of your mind, it was still a bit strange for Dean to be in your office. It felt rather intimate for a second date, but you supposed coming to your place of work wasn’t so new to him.
“You sure are killing that chicken,” Dean remarked, as he watched you carve into a large drumstick with fork and knife. He shot you a teasing smile. “You know it’s already dead, right?”
You gave him a dry look, despite your amusement. “I’m starving! All I’ve had today is a cup of coffee.”
He frowned at that. “What, you can’t take a break for an egg McMuffin?”
“Ha!” you cracked, and took a sip of lemonade. “There are no breaks around here.”
Dean hummed, though you could see he didn’t like it.
“You sound like Sam,” he said.
“Oh, your brother?”
“Yeah, Mr. District Attorney,” Dean said in a mocking voice. But his smile betrayed his fondness, and his pride for his younger brother’s accomplishments.
You remembered then that Dean’s father was a police officer as well—a real life homicide detective! You ruminated on that when you and Dean moved on to dessert. You had a scoop of frozen yogurt, while he started to dig into a slice of blueberry pie.
“You know, it’s amazing to me that your entire family went into public service, from all angles,” you said. “It’s impressive…and really noble, actually.”
Dean offered you a quirk of a smile. It told you he wasn’t typically one to be comfortable with praise, as he carded a hand through his hair.
“Yeah, well. It’s a living,” was all he said.
You shook your head with a smile. His humility seemed genuine, and you found it endearing as hell.
“And you’re the eldest, right?” you asked. Dean nodded around a mouthful of pie. He set down the little tray between you for a moment.
“Yeah, though you wouldn’t know it looking at my brother. Around sixteen, he shot up like a damn weed. Friggin’ gigantor.”
You giggled at the image. Now you were truly intrigued, and hoped to meet both Sam and Dean’s father in the future. Though for right now, you glanced down at the slice of pie resting between you, all glossy blueberry filling and flaky crust.
You raised your cup of frozen yogurt to him. “Wanna try a bit of this, so I can try a bit of that?”
You went for a piece of pie with your fork, but Dean snatched the tray out of reach. He eyed you with a bit of admonishment.
“Hey, now. I got you your fake ice cream or whatever,” he said. You rose brow at him, both incredulous and amused.
“What, you won’t share with me?” you asked.
A smile twitched at his lips, but he stayed firm.
“Sweetheart, I’ll get you whatever you want, but here’s where I draw the line.”
You laughed in disbelief. But then an idea made your smile slide into flirtation. You set your dessert aside and rolled your chair closer to his. Dean watched you as your hand slid up his arm, and your pretty eyes met his.
“Okay, what if I make it worth your while?” you posed.
He tilted his head. His hand found the curve of your waist and slid around, bringing you even closer.
“Oh, yeah?” he challenged. “If you really want my pie, that’s gotta be damn worth it.”
Another giggle bubbled in your throat, but you continued to play your part.
“I have a few ideas,” you said. Your fingers drew a path down his chest, over the soft gray Henley he wore. You could feel the warmth of his skin underneath, and the firmness of his body. His grip on your waist tightened a fraction.
And he smirked. “Tell me…”
Your lips were a whisper from his. He smelled like spicy cologne and blueberries. Two of his fingers came to brush your hair away from your cheek…
But as usual, your boss had the absolute worst timing. The sound of your office door opening was like a gunshot ringing through the room, making you and Dean separate from one another with a jolt.
Nick Savage strode in without knocking, as he was wont to do. (No matter how many times you asked him not to.)
“Hey, what’s your progress on the Greenway account…oh,” said Nick, pausing where he stood.
He took note of Dean in the room and straightened his posture. His expression changed from its lazy gait, to a more tightened one. You swore you could spot a tinge of annoyance as well, like he was surprised that he hadn’t caught you alone in your office.
“I see I’m interrupting,” he said.
Holding in a sigh, you looked over at Dean and found him similarly assessing Nick.
“This is Dean. You might remember him from last week, when the elevator broke down. He’s one of the firefighters who got me out,” you said. Your hand fell on your companion’s arm. “Dean, this is—”
“Her boss,” Nick said. He seemed to lighten up and give Dean a smile, reaching over to shake the man’s hand. Dean obliged him.
“So I’ve heard,” he said. His tone was pleasant enough, but still more reserved.
Nick purposefully shifted his attention back to you.
“Report? Greenway account?” he repeated.
Your lips firmed into a line, though you slipped back into the professional patience you had to maintain at all times with this man.
“I’m still on my break, but I’ll have the report to you by end-of-day,” you said.
Nick tsked at you with a shrug. “How’re you gonna get that account locked down if you’re not trying to conference with Mr. Greenway? He’s headed to China in two hours.”
You had to reign in an annoyed tick in your brow. But you didn’t notice how Dean was watching the exchange between you and your boss with a thinly veiled frown.
“I’ve called three times, Nick. He’ll get back to me.”
“Hmm. I wonder if Josh is taking that same approach,” Nick wondered with mocking sincerity. “I’ll go ask him.”
He finally turned to leave, though he stopped short, giving Dean a lazy salute. “Nice to meet you…”
“Dean,” he reminded.
“Right.” Nick slid a pointed finger your way. “Greenway. 2:00 p.m.”
You were silently simmering by the time your office door closed behind him.
“Well, he’s a delight,” Dean remarked.
“He’s a dick,” you huffed and tossed your napkin down. But you grabbed your desk phone to make a quick call—to Mr. Greenway.
Dean frowned, but he covered it up by wiping his mouth with a napkin, subtly clearing his throat.
“I should head out then, let you get back to work,” he said.
His words made you pause. You had a reply ready on your tongue, that his suggestion was probably for the best.
But then you actually looked into his eyes. Guilt prickled in your chest as you realized what you were doing. Not only were you letting Nick get under your skin again, but here was a man who’d brought you lunch. Who was willing to sit in an uncomfortable chair to spend some time with you, and you were about to brush him off.
You hung up the phone without dialing.
“No. I’m sorry. Stay, please,” you told him, and grabbed his arm to keep him in his seat. You pushed your desk phone away with your spare hand and gave Dean your full attention, along with a smile.
“Where were we?” you asked.
Finally, Dean’s reserved expression eased as he relaxed in his chair, and subtly leaned towards you. He thumbed at your cheek with a smirk.
“I don’t know, something about making it worth my while.”
You bit your lip on a deeper smile.
“Oh, yeah,” you nodded. You crossed the ever-closing distance to give Dean a proper kiss. Your hand found his cheek, and your thumb brushed back and forth across the stubble there. You tasted sweet, sweet pie on his lips.
Even after you parted softly, Dean went back in for a second taste of you. This time it was deeper, as he angled into the kiss. He once again brought you close, just shy of dragging you into his lap.
His hand reached behind your head and succeeded in taking the clip out of your hair. He tossed it on your desk and sunk his hand into the soft strands while his lips continued to devour yours.
It was a small move, but you found it both soothing and exhilarating. You shuddered when you felt his fingers brush the back of your neck. It had you contemplating locking the door of your office and forgoing the rest of lunch…but your mind was competing with your heart, warning you to be cautious. To protect yourself.
Really, you’d just met Dean. You had no idea what to expect here, even though your heart was tripping up over his slightest touch.
Still, your face was warm when you eventually parted from him. You chanced meeting his eyes, and you blushed further at what you saw.
The truth was, Dean had been contemplating laying you out flat across your desk. But he tried his best to keep it down to a simmer behind his eyes, a bright and gleaming green.
“Worth it?” you asked. Your voice was a mere whisper, despite your smile.
He returned it, and gave you one last kiss.
“So worth it,” he said.
Dean wasn’t sure he liked this.
The start of his shift was usually the time for him to be relaxed, but focused. He knew who he was and what he needed to do when he entered the firehouse. It was his second home, perhaps even the place where he felt most comfortable.
And yet, he nearly burnt his hand while pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“Shit,” he muttered. He jolted and hopped back a step as scalding brown liquid splashed between his feet. It had Benny and Meg looking over from the common room, where they sat at the dining table.
Dean looked at the mess he created and tried not to sigh. He wasn’t awake enough for this…or maybe, he didn’t want to admit that he’d been thinking about you.
Your smile, your eyes, your voice, your occasional shyness, versus the way you dealt with your boss like a pro. Your confidence that was damn sexy, and had Dean imagining what you’d be like taking his orders, or giving them right back, shoving him down into a seat, straddling his thighs, his hands hiking up your skirt…
Dean shook his head a bit sharply to try and clear it.
He circled into the kitchen in need of a paper towel. But he bumped right into Jack, who was making breakfast. It sent the salt canister flying out of his hand and dumping into the pan of eggs.
“Oh, fuck. Sorry,” Dean said. He really did sigh this time. Now they’d have to wait even longer for breakfast.
“Uh, it’s okay. I can save it,” Jack said, though his brows were furrowed as he contemplated just how he was going to do that. He took a wooden spoon and tried to scoop out the mound of salt on the still-sizzling eggs.
Meanwhile, Dean’s lips pursed as he went over to grab a few paper towels. Once the mess by the coffeemaker was clean, he poured himself a tall cup and took a seat between his friends. Benny shot him a glance as he sipped at his own mug.
“You all right, brother?” Benny asked.
“Just fine,” Dean replied. He tried to sound breezy, but neither Benny or Meg bought it. She eyed him with a smirk.
“Heard you went on a date the other night,” she said. “A real one, with chocolates and flowers and all that shit.”
Dean shot her a sharper frown. “Who the hell told…oh. Perfect. Goddamn it, Cas.”
He should’ve known that big-mouth bastard couldn’t be trusted.
“Nope,” Meg said. Her eyes were dancing mischievously, and Dean knew he was in for it this morning. “Your little girlfriend is best friends with my cousin.”
She tossed a sly look at Benny. “You remember Andréa. You two were sucking face hardcore the other night. And giving quite a show to the local pedestrians. Have you called her yet, by the way?”
Benny cleared his throat, but he looked both unrepentant and tight-lipped about his business as he stayed sipping his coffee. Dean shot him a smirk. Until Meg directed her cutting gaze back to him.
“And you,” she said, just as slyly. “Dating your own damsel in distress. How fucking predictable.”
Dean’s lips firmed into a line, while Benny’s brows shot up.
“You really went for it with Elevator Girl?” he remarked in surprise. “I saw you two talkin’, but didn’t think you’d pulled the trigger.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “All right, first of all, let’s stop calling her ‘Elevator Girl.’ She’s got a name.”
Once he’d told them your name, however, their smiles deepened. And Dean knew it was about to be a long shift.
“Ooh, he’s got it bad, bad,” Benny shook his head.
Meg made a “cute” face at him and reached out to shake Dean’s chin, smirking when he slapped her hand away.
“Look at him, all twitterpated,” she teased.
“I’m fine,” Dean all but gritted out.
Benny chuckled, but truthfully, he was happy for his friend. It seemed the time had finally come when Dean Winchester was hooked on a nice girl. Hopefully one he intended to keep seeing.
“If it’s that serious, you should bring her by the Roadhouse again,” Benny said.
Dean snorted into his coffee. “Yeah, like I’d want to subject her to you degenerate clowns.”
“Well, if you expect to keep it going with this girl, she’s gotta meet us eventually,” Meg pointed out. Dean shot her a look.
“Oh, she’s definitely not meetin’ you,” he said.
Meg’s brows knit together. “What? I’m perfectly pleasant.”
Before Dean could utter a retort, a familiar alarm bell tolled on the intercom speakers. There was a working house fire over in Bellmont—the wealthier part of town. Truck 79 and Rescue Squad 5 were called, along with Ambulance 7.
All hands on deck.
“Okay, Jack. You’re staying on my ass once we get in there. You got it?” Dean told the Candidate.
“Yes, Lieutenant,” Jack agreed. It was only his second real fire since he joined Firehouse 25.
By now the team was in full gear, with jackets and helmets and belts. The Chief, Bobby Singer, was at the helm. He and Dean shared a nod.
“All right, Dean. Head in. Lafitte and Ramirez will vent the roof,” he said.
Dean nodded again. “You got it, Chief.”
While two of his team got the firehose ready, Dean fitted his mask over his face. Already the fire was at a full blaze. They had a limited time before the fire grew too wild to safely maneuver. They’d know when the flames started smoking black. The Chief would let them know on their walkie talkies, and Dean would have to pull his team out.
But first, there was a family of four trapped inside the large two-story house. He fully intended to get every single one of them out.
Thanks to the mask, he could hear his own deep breaths in his ears as he entered the house. A quick look back confirmed that Jack was on his heels, and Gordon was right behind him.
“Okay, clear each room. I’m going right, through the kitchen,” Dean called out the order.
“I’ll take left through the living room,” Gordon replied.
Dean shot a thumbs up. “Copy that.”
Then they got to work.
The flames were high and eating up the walls of what would’ve been a pristine open kitchen. The room was clear, so Jack and Dean kept moving forward until they reached a long hall. They had to hasten single file until Dean opened up the first bedroom with his crowbar.
“Fire Department, call out!” he shouted.
He didn’t hear anything, but that didn’t mean the room was clear. It was a child’s room, a girl if he had to guess. There were stuffed animals strewn across an unmade bed with pink bedsheets. He checked the closet while Jack looked under the bed. Neither man found anything.
“All right, moving on. First bedroom clear,” Dean said into his walkie talkie. “Going upstairs next.”
“Master bedroom clear,” Gordon commed in.
Jack and Dean continued to the second floor, where the flames were thickest. It was getting harder to see, and even harder to breathe, despite the mask.
“We’re almost outta time, fellas,” Bobby radioed.
“Just a couple more rooms, Chief,” Dean responded. The first and second bathroom was clear, as was a linen closet in the hall. He had a feeling about this last room though.
He opened the door and nearly got a flaming piece of wall dropped on his head. He jumped back at the same time Jack helped pull him to safety.
Dean breathed deeply. He didn’t have time for thanks, but he reached back and pat Jack on the arm before he entered the bedroom. It was another child’s room, this time for a boy—with green walls, and a school uniform on the back of a chair.
“Fire Department!” he said, though it nearly died on his tongue at what he saw.
There in the far corner, on the other side of the twin bed, was a man kneeling on the floor. He was doing his best to cover his wife and kids. His back was charred beyond recognition.
Dean snapped to attention when he heard one of the kids whimper.
“Fire Department,” he repeated, as he rushed to them. He and Jack peeled the man off his family as carefully as he could. Dean hauled him onto his shoulder.
Meanwhile, the man’s wife was crying and holding her children as tight as possible: a boy that looked about 10 years old, and a young girl. The mother’s glassy eyes widened with hope when she saw Jack and Dean.
“We’re gonna get you out. Come on,” Dean reassured. His hand on her shoulder was both supportive and urging her up onto her feet. Jack helped get her kids up as well.
Gordon joined them as soon as they were out of the room. He picked up the boy while Jack carried the little girl, and Dean had an arm wrapped around the mother while he still carried the father on his shoulder.
They made it out of the house just before the ceiling started to cave in at the doorway.
Meg and Chuck were waiting for them with a gurney, where Dean carefully laid down the man he carried. His wife hovered close with her kids as Meg began calling out instructions to her partner, trying to take the man’s vitals, all while they wheeled him towards the ambulance.
Just before they would’ve brought him up into the ambo, Meg halted them with a hand. Her other gloved hand was poised at the man’s wrist. She listened closely for a few more seconds in concentration…
And she sighed through her nose. She removed her stethoscope and met the wife’s eyes.
“I’m sorry. He’s gone.”
Dean’s heart fell into his stomach, but he held the woman as she fell apart. Jack and Gordon did the same for the kids. Behind them, the rest of the team were dousing the flames and black smoke consuming the house with the firehose. Chief Singer let out a heavy breath, but he continued issuing orders as needed.
Dean stared at the pale, soot-stained face of the man he’d failed to save. The woman’s cries rang in his ears, and he continued to support her as she fell to her knees and gathered her children close.
He understood their pain.
Not for the first time, he wondered what his father must’ve felt…the day his mother died.
Dean was a seasoned firefighter. He’d seen enough of the horrors this world could produce, and he had an internal catalogue of shit he’d rather forget. But he knew, as he later got back onto the truck for the long ride back to the firehouse.
He knew this day would be another one to be imprinted on his memory.
“You’re quiet,” Sam noted. He ate dinner in relative silence with his brother, in the apartment they shared. Dean met Sam’s eyes.
“Long day,” Dean eventually said.
Sam didn’t like the sound of that. Before he could probe further, Dean’s phone vibrated on the small dining table.
Dean slowly reached for his phone and saw the new text message, from you.
Hey, thanks again for lunch yesterday. Hope I get to see you again soon. ❤️
It briefly lightened him, almost bringing a smile to his face.
It soon fell, even though his thumb hovered over the keyboard to reply. His mind was blank. Right now, he couldn’t think of a damn thing flirtatious, or charming, or even human enough to say to you.
“Dean,” Sam said, earning his attention. “What’s wrong?”
Again, Dean hesitated. He blew out a slow, heavy breath and sat back in his seat. He ran his fingers roughly through his hair as he thought and thought.
But if anyone might’ve understood where his head was at, it was his brother.
“What do you think would’ve happened if Mom had made it out of the fire, instead of Dad?” Dean asked.
To say that question shocked Sam would be an understatement. Yet to his credit, Sam internalized most of his reaction. He tilted his head as his brows furrowed.
“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. Dean’s question was impossible for his mind to even wrap around; mostly because he never got the chance to meet his mother. The house fire claimed their home when Sam was barely six months old.
All he knew was his father, and Dean.
Dean shook his head and wiped a hand over his mouth, an anxious gesture Sam knew well.
“She would’ve been just as messed up at Dad, but…I don’t know. Ignore me. I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying.”
“What made you think about that?” Sam asked.
“Today,” Dean said. Though he paused, he managed to say it. “It was a house fire. A mom and two little kids, boy and girl. Their dad just laid over ‘em, took the brunt of it.”
“Jesus…he didn’t make it, did he?” Sam deduced, from Dean’s eyes and his tone. Dean shook his head slow.
“I’ve seen a lot of shit, Sammy, but…”
This was why Sam worried about his brother. He admired the hell out of him, but he also worried.
Sam had a ring in his nightstand. He’d picked it out last month. Part of him was hesitating to move forward, not because he thought his girlfriend of three years would say no to marrying him, but because he didn’t want his brother to be alone.
“You don’t have to look at me like that. I’m okay,” Dean said, levying him with a knowing look. His lips gave a wry turn. “Nothing a couple shots of Jameson won’t cure.”
Sam snorted. “Yeah, that’s what you need.”
“Right. Like I haven’t caught you up late with your mistress, Johnny Walker,” Dean tossed back.
Sam’s lips pursed, but the point was made. He spent his days putting murderers, drug dealers, rapists, and thieves on trial. Some days were darker and more unreal in their realism than others. And he could only burden Eileen so much.
Still, he didn’t like the look of Dean, who got up from the table and took his half-full plate of spaghetti to the sink.
Dean went up to his room and showered. He’d done so at the station, but showering was one of those methodical things he could do to try to ease his mind, besides working on his car. It provided an alternative to drinking.
But it didn’t work this time, as he knew it wouldn’t. He lied in bed after getting dressed, just staring up at the ceiling.
He checked his phone and saw your text, still waiting on an answer. He hesitated…but his thumb hovered over your name. He called you instead.
“Hey,” your soft voice greeted him. You sounded surprised to get his call, but also a little sleepy, like you were on the verge of going down for the night.
“Hey, yourself,” Dean said. “Sorry, were you about to get to sleep?”
“No, I’m awake. What’re you up to?”
“I’m home. Been a long day,” he admitted.
“Yeah?” you asked. “Dean, are you okay?”
He heard the perceptive shift in your tone. Against his best efforts, he should’ve known you would pick up on the threads of his mood. But he smiled at the sincerity in your voice. True concern.
“Yeah. I’m good, sweetheart. How’re you?”
“Uh-uh. Not so fast,” you replied. “…Did something happen at work today?”
He sighed. “Yeah, but uh…we don’t need to get into it. It’s okay.”
“You sure?” you asked. “I’m a good listener.”
“That you are,” he said, with a deeper smile. “You know what’ll help me?”
“What’s that?”
“Tell me, how bad did you wanna knuckle-dunk your boss’s teeth in today?”
“Oh my God. On a scale of 1 to 10?”
“Lay it on me.”
“20,” you replied. “You met him, so now I can tell you without exaggeration. He’s the Chief Asshat among asshats.”
Dean chuckled. It crinkled the corners of his eyes.
“What’d he do this time?”
You explained your latest frustrations. Then you continued to make him laugh with all the creative ways you’d imagined ending your boss for his dickish behavior, demanding reports, pitting you against your coworkers, being a general pain in the ass.
The rusty can opener in the break lounge was Dean’s personal favorite.
Hearing about your day, and the colorful adjectives you used, managed to lighten him. For a little while, it even took his mind off his troubles. And you admitted that venting to him about your violent fantasies was its own form of therapy.
“Damn, do I gotta worry about you?” Dean teased.
“Only if you get on my bad side, Lieutenant,” you said. Your voice was nearly a purr.
It had him smirking, with a tendril of heat lacing down the back of his neck.
“All right, then. I promise I won’t make it a habit,” he said. “Gotta keep you nice and sweet for me.”
You laughed then, in a way that had him imagining your pretty blush.
He ended up talking with you about everything and nothing, well into the night.
AN: 🥹 *sighs* Anywho, I know this chapter was a little shorter than usual, but I hope you got a kick out of Dean's first meeting with Nick. And we got a snapshot of an unfortunate "bad day" at the firehouse.
In Part 6, we'll get deeper into the murder mystery, along with a taste of jealousy...
Next Time:
“Uh, no, that’s okay,” you said. “I’m waiting for someone.”
“What?” Gordon asked.
It was getting busy in the bar, making it loud enough that you could understand why he hadn’t heard you. You leaned over towards his ear.
“I’m good for now, thanks,” you said, raising your voice a bit. Gordon leaned in even closer and chanced resting a hand above your knee.
“You sure?” he asked. He gave you a smile that was all smooth sex appeal and confidence, without being arrogant. It was undoubtedly attractive, but you were more shocked than charmed in your blush.
You instinctively leaned back when you felt his hand on your thigh.
Keep Reading: PART 6
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hi could i request tasm!peter x autistic!reader? or x miguel, i just got excited when i saw you write for autistic readers i’ve never had that
thank u for ur request!! gentle disclaimer that im not autistic so my frame of ref is based on people i know or what ive read about, please forgive me in case of any inauthenticities <3
Miguel doesn't have much in the way of personal effects, but he has a small glass sphere that rests near one of his monitors in the lab. He occasionally uses it as a paperweight, the milky way inside sparkling in the downtime lighting.
You're moving it aside to grab up some of his paperwork —to help, he assumes, because you love feeling helpful— when you lose your grip and drop it. It hits the workbench with a sound that makes you cringe, rolling along the bench and over the edge.
It hits the floor, splintering into a hundred different pieces with an earache-prompting crash.
Your hands instantly fly to your ears. You take a step back and narrowly avoid splitting open the sole of your shoes on a big chunk of glass.
Miguel's relieved when you don't hurt yourself. Your hands stay cemented to your ears, eyes scrunched closed and shoulders tight, waiting for another sound. He brushes a piece of glass aside and approaches you slowly.
"You're alright," he says, his fingertips splaying over your elbow.
You lean forward.
"It's fine. There won't be another loud noise."
You shake your head side to side but don't speak. Miguel reads it as a correction of his assumption. While he imagines another loud sound would be less than ideal for you, it's not the full reason you've covered your ears.
Miguel doesn't know what to do, so he guesses. He hooks the leg of a nearby chair with his ankle and yanks it forward to sit you down. That doesn't help (it may even have made things worse). He crouches in front of you.
"What do you need, cariño?" He enthuses his tone with as much softness as it will hold. These days, that isn't a lot, but it's enough for you to peel apart your eyelashes. "Tienes que decirme, ay? You have to tell me."
"I don't know," you say.
"Better or worse if I'm touching you?"
You swallow around nothing. Slowly, you drop your hands to your collar, clenching and unclenching your fists. "It's okay. Sorry, it's not bad." Your hands flop to your lap. "Ah, I smashed your ball. I'm so sorry, I'll get you a new one, I promise."
"Don't worry about it."
"But you like it?" you say unsurely.
"I'm a little more worried about you."
"Why?" You clench your fists again. "Miguel, I know I reacted badly, but I still broke your stuff, you can be mad with me."
"You didn't react badly," he says. Different than some, sure. He isn't bothered by your response unless you're bothered. He certainly isn't angry about the paperweight.
"You aren't mad?" you ask softly.
"If I got mad at you for being a dummy I'd be mad all the time."
"You are mad all the time."
"Watch it."
Despite what you've said, the loud noise has you unsettled. Your hands continue to clench and unclench, the skin of your knuckles thinning, shaking just a little. Miguel touches your shoulder briefly as he stands, leaving you by the workbench to search the cast iron table that houses the saw. He pulls the drawer forward quietly and grabs the thing he'd been looking for —a pair of noise dampening ear muffs.
"Would these help?" he asks, offering them to you.
You shake your head even as you take them. "I already heard it, it won't just go away–"
"It doesn't need to go away that fast. Take your time. We'll just sit here."
You stretch the ear muffs but don't put them on. "I'm really sorry."
"Don't be stupid," he says. "It's just glass. I can get a new one for five dollars at the pawn shop."
"You don't look like someone who shops at a pawn shop."
Miguel takes the ear muffs from you and places them gently over your ears. They don't smother every sound; he's sure you can still hear him as he says, "That's dumb."
"You're bullying me."
He puts a finger over his lips. "Quiet."
You close your eyes, wrap your arms around your waist, and settle down. Your thumbs rub frantically at your elbows for a few minutes until they slow, and your quirked brows relax into a line. You don't rush yourself into feeling better. Miguel wouldn't have it any other way.
When you're back to a baseline, you rub your face bashfully and point your shoe at the glass covered floor, ear muffs around your neck. "You didn't want to clean it up?" you ask.
Miguel pretends his attention can't be torn from the blueprints in front of him. He hadn't wanted to make any more noise for you.
"What, you get to smash it but not clean it?" he asks. He laughs at his own joke. "I have a robot for that."
You mumble something scornful under your breath and lean over him to grab the paperwork you'd originally intended to complete before your disaster. "Summon the robot. I'll put the defenders back on."
"You sure?"
You smile at him gently. "Positive."
#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara x fem!reader#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara fanfic#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o’hara drabble#miguel o’hara scenario#miguel o’hara blurb#miguel o’hara oneshot#spider-man: across the spider-verse#spider-man: across the spider-verse spoilers#spider-man: across the spider-verse fanfiction#across the spider-verse spoilers#across the spider verse spoilers#across the spiderverse spoilers#spiderman across the spider-verse spoilers#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel ohara x fem!reader#miguel ohara#miguel ohara fanfiction#miguel ohara fanfic#miguel ohara fic#miguel ohara drabble#miguel ohara scenario#miguel ohara blurb
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The 7 Sins
A.N. So, I've been having writer's block and not knowing wth to do with Family Feud. But I will try to post the story in full this weekend. In the meantime, here's a little something I wrote yesterday and posted to my sister's Wattpad book, The Bloodlines Island of Relevancy (in which I am a co-writer). Enjoy. Constructive feedback is welcomed!
"Girl come on. It's just a club. Loosen up a bit and have a little fun Miss CEO." Your best friend Zaina says, playfully rolling her eyes at you.
You were currently wandering around the city, enjoying the night with your girls, trying to relax your mind. At first, you rejected the offer to go out late on a Friday night, but with endless begging from your sister and close friends, you gave in. Figuring one night of fun wouldn't hurt right? After all, your busy schedule rarely allowed you a normal life of a 27-year-old beyond work. Your sister, Fallon, would tease you about living the life of an old woman. But you couldn't help it. You had goals to achieve, ambition, and drive. You knew nothing outside of work. But tonight, you'd temporarily put that aside for some innocent fun.
"Come on sis. We don't have to stay long." Fallon says, knowing clubs weren't exactly your scene, however, she couldn't help but want to try out the new club.
"I just...I don't know.... A club called 7 Deadly Sins? I mean look at their slogan, Once you've had a taste of sin, you'll never be the same. I don't know.... sounds sketchy." You say unsure as you all momentarily stop walking to stare at the club across the street. A long line has already formed at the trendy club.
This club had just opened in town, however, being that this was a party town, people immediately flocked to it once word got around about the immaculate experience you were promised to have once you stepped through the doors. From what you've heard, the club was family-owned and apparently a part of a growing franchise. How true that was, you weren't sure, but you weren't much of a party person, opting to spend your weekend catching up on work while not at work. Guess you'd have to find out tonight.
"Girl, stop playing and let's go." Zaina says, grabbing your hand, intertwining your fingers, and pulling you towards the club.
You inwardly roll your eyes but let her drag you along to stand in the long line. You'd only hoped these heels wouldn't blister your feet by the time you returned home. You pull down your mini red dress, starting to regret wearing the dress your sister picked out for you:
You and your girls make conversation as you slowly but surely move closer and closer to the door entrance, two security guards checking everyone before their entry into the club which by the way, looked hella intriguing from the exterior. The bright red writing that read 7 Deadly Sins was alluring and surrounded by flames. Almost as if the sign were made by the devil himself. Well, if this club was as hot as people said, you wouldn't be surprised.
You finally make it to the security guards as they search y'all and then let you all in.
"Enjoy yourself ladies...." one of the guards smirks as you only nod your head.
"Oooh damn, this is nice!" Tyra, also your best friend says in amazement at the interior of this club.
Bodies were spread out all over, some on the dance floor grinding and enjoying the music, others at the luxury bar, and others lounging around. You must admit, the inside was impressive. But you weren't here to do too much. You just wanted to sip on your water, monitor your girls, especially your sister, and go home.
"Oooh bestie let's dance! They playing Water by Tyla!" Fallon says to Tyra as they grab each other's hands and run off towards the dance floor. That sister of yours was a dancing machine.
"Be careful!" you yell after them.
"Yes, mother!" Fallon yells, barely paying you any attention.
You shake your head before scanning the large room before your eyes land on the bar. It was huge. Various wines and drinks line the shelves of the bar. Too bad you weren't a drinker, otherwise you'd be in alcohol heaven. Maybe this club, unlike all the other clubs here in your hometown, offered water.
"Hey girl, I'm gonna go join Fallon and T. You good?" Zaina asks, not wanting to leave before making sure you are good first.
"Yes. I'm just gonna go to the bar." You give her a small smile before she nods and walks away.
You make your way through the sea of people to the bar and take a seat that gives you a view of your friends.
Immediately you're greeted by this bartender and damn was he fine with a nice black beard, dark brown eyes, and a smile that showed off his bottom row grillz in his mouth. His fade was cut to perfection as it complimented the wet curls in his mullet, his hair dyed red at the tips. He licks his lips at you before giving you a small smile.
"And what can I get for this beautiful goddess in front of me?" he greets, looking you up and down, making you blush profusely. You weren't the type of woman that was used to compliments. You were pretty much to yourself, not wanting too much attention on yourself.
"Umm....I know this sounds very lame but...do you have any'" he cuts you off mid-sentence.
"Water?" he grins, seeing your slightly shocked expression.
"How did you-"
"Know? Ha. I can tell from your aura.... You're not a drinker. But unfortunately, we don't have any water." He says as your shoulders slump slightly.
"Of course." You mumble, looking down at your fingers.
"No, worries baby girl. We may have alcohol but not all of it is strong. Would you like to experience with your taste?" he asks, tilting his head at you.
"I....I don't know I....." your voice trails off as you look at the display of many drinks aligned so neatly on the shelves. Some wines looked as old as time, while others looked fresh out of the box. Tempting, but nah.
"Listen, I know you're a new face around here, but relax mama. This is a fun place. Enjoy yourself. Let go." The bartender teased, licking his lips. Every time he licked his lips you swear you melted.
"It's just-"
"Ayo Jey, Joe wanna speak to you real quick." Some guy, who looks exactly like the bartender says, approaching him.
He takes a glance at you and has to do a double-take.
"Damn, you're fine. Whatcho name is? I've never seen you here before." The guy smiles, giving you a once-over.
"Don't scare her off with yo' ugly a**. Now move, Jonathan. We talking." Jey says, playfully rolling his eyes.
"Whatever. Joe wants you, immediately. He says it's important." Jonathan shrugs, before turning his attention back to you.
"What's your name?" he asks, leaning against the counter.
You giggle slightly before answering.
"Y/n, huh? Cool. Cool. Well, welcome to 7 Deadly Sins. I'm Jonathan, one of the owners. Nice to see a fresh face around here." He greets you, taking your hand into his and kissing it.
"Boy if you don't move with them chapped lips. I'll get to Joe in a minute." Jey says as Jonathan shrugs, winking at you.
"See you around." He says before walking off.
"Okay......since you seem to be the drink expert, what is your least alcoholic drink on the menu?" you ask as Jey chuckles.
"Hmm...well we do have our newest collection called The 7 Sins. Wanna look at the menu? It's got the description of each drink on it. You can pick which one you'd like." Jey says, pulling out a laminated menu with various drinks on it. He then points to the described drink selection.
"Scan through. See which one you like. I'll whip it up for you when I get back." Jey says as he goes off to speak with this Joe person.
You nod your head, saying nothing as you scan through the menu. The drinks all sounded delicious, but again, you weren't a drinker, so you weren't sure which one to consume.
"Hmmm.... let's see what we have. Once you've picked your sin, this is where the fun begins. What kind of statement is that?" You say eying the sentence that was in bold black letters above the drink choices.
Sin 1- Lust. This drink will put you in a state of euphoria, excitement, and curiosity. Take a sip of this sultry strawberry drink and give in to your sexual frustrations. It will light a fire of desire inside you. But be warned, once consumed, you can't turn back.
Toxicity Level: 10 *This is the most lethal of the seven drinks. Drink at your own risk. 💀
Sin 2- Gluttony. This drink will have you wanting more and more, unable to quench your thirst. One sip and you will be consumed with the temptations of excessive hunger. Some say it's a bad thing to love something too much. With this chocolatey goodness, you will not be able to stop at one. You will want more and more. And more.........
Toxicity Level: 6 😋
Sin 3- Greed. This drink will make you greedy and needy. Will you be able to fight the urge to soothe your tastebuds with the delightful taste of sweet and tart citrus fruit mixed with mango? This drink will have you taking the sweetest of vacations on a tropical island, feet in the sand, and ocean waves. Try it and enjoy it as you are taken to another place. One you've never thought possible.
Toxicity Level:8 🤑
Sin 4- Sloth. Who says it's a bad thing to do nothing? No one cares about responsibilities when you can move at your own pace. Often called the lazy ones' choice, this fizzy blue raspberry drink will leave you wanting to kick back, relax, and sleep away. After all,.....time waits for no one.
Toxicity Level: 3 😴
Sin 5- Wrath. The heat of eternal hell cannot compare to the explosive heat of this blood-orange & habanero mix. Beat the heat.
Toxicity Level: 9 🤬
Sin 6- Envy. Sometimes you want the good things in life, even if it belongs to others. One sip and you will be consumed by envy with this exquisite lemon zest, with a hint of ginger and spice.
Toxicity Level: 7 😒
Sin 7- Pride. It is often said that pride is the devil. Ha. But who can resist one's pride? This elegant, delicate peach and rum mixture will give you the gratification you're looking for.
Toxicity Level: 5 😁
Hmm.... these all sound.....interesting but your eyes were immediately drawn to Lust. It sounds like a dangerous drink, but you were willing to try it.
Just as you'd finished making your decision, Jey returned. The once smiley demeanor is now gone. His little talk with Joe must not have gone well. You look back down at the menu, avoiding his gaze. He sighs heavily as a moment goes by before you look back at him.
"I um...I made my decision." You say quietly.
He instantly smirks.
"Okay, baby girl. Which one are you trying?" he responds.
"I think I'll get Sin 1, Lust, please." You smile, as his smile instantly disappears. Geez, this man's mood can change quickly.
".... Are you sure?" he asks quizzically.
"Uh...yeah?" you say now unsure. Had you chosen the wrong one?
"Damn, going for the most lethal one huh? Hahaha, you got guts. If that's what you want." He grins, as he starts making your drink.
You turn your attention away from him momentarily to gaze at the dance floor. You look on as you see your sister and friends talking to a group of individuals, one of them being Jonathan. And from the way your sister was twirling her hair, you know she was flirting. You inwardly roll your eyes. Some guy with tatted arms and a red cap, dressed in all black, was chatting up Zaina. He too had a beard, though not at thick as Jey's. Interestingly enough, he looked like a younger version of Jey. They had to be brothers. And damn was he fine too.
You giggle to yourself before turning your attention back to Jey.
"Whoaaaa. Don't burn the place down." You tease as Jey hands you a flaming drink:
"Here you go. Enjoy." He smirks as you gaze at the drink, the flames seeming to draw you into a trance.
You just had to have a taste.
You go to pick up the drink as the flames die but Jey stops you.
"Y/n...listen.... this place isn't what it-" he's cut off mid-sentence by a deep voice calling his name.
"Jey! Come here, now." Says a voice belonging to this man who looked like he was handcrafted by God himself. Damn, was every man in this club fine like this?
He too had tattoos, however, only on one arm. He too had a full beard, trimmed to perfection. He had beautiful pink lips. His hair was neatly placed into a bun. As for his eyes, they were dark, almost black. You could tell from his demeanor, he was a man of stature, luxury, and importance. He was dressed casually wearing all-black. His feet were covered by a crisp pair of red, black, and white Air Jordan 1's. Just from the stares various women in the club were giving him, and the whispers, and giggling, you'd think he was the hottest man to walk this damn planet. And you'd have to agree to that statement.
He approaches Jey, an aura of anger oozing from his mannerisms, however, upon seeing you in his presence, he turns to look at you. You couldn't even look at his face, too shy to do so. Why were you suddenly nervous under his intense gaze?
He tilts his head to the side, giving you a once-over.
"And who might you be? I don't remember ever seeing you before," he says, his voice deep and smooth like velvet.
"I-I..." you stutter like an idiot as Jey chimes in.
"Joe, this is Y/n. She's a new customer." Jey answers for you, slight timidness in his demeanor.
"Ahh...well it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Mr. Anoa'i. But you can call me Joe." He introduces himself as he extends his hand for you to shake.
You give your hand to him as he gently shakes it before raising your hand to his thick lips and kissing it softly. You instantly feel chills run down your spine. His eyes take a quick glance at your ring finger, finding it vacant before slightly biting his lip. A look of intrigue on his face. If being discrete was a characteristic, it wasn't one he possessed.
You quickly take your hand out of his, feeling your face heat up. He licks his lips, nodding his head before turning his attention back to Jey.
"Joshua, take good care of her. I want to see her back here." Joe grins, winking at you before turning to walk away.
"Wait, Uce. What did you need?" Jey asks as Joe looks over his shoulder.
"We'll discuss those matters later." He responds before disappearing into the crowd.
Jey shakes his head as you turn back to look at him.
"Must be the boss?" you say quietly as he nods.
"Yeah, and he's my cousin so......" his voice trails off as he finds himself staring at your untouched drink.
"Well.....I guess I better drink this and go check on my friends." You say awkwardly as you pick up the red drink. It looked delicious.
Jey watches you intensely as you take a sip of the strawberry drink.
Ooooh this is good.
"Oooh this is good. I love the taste of strawberries." You giggle as he smiles.
"Thanks. That's one of the most popular drinks of the entire collection." Jey smiles at your compliment.
"Who came up with the menu?" you ask curiously as you and Jey begin to make conversation.
~~
It seemed like hours had gone by as you and Jey conversed. And before you knew it, you'd drank all your drink. It was possibly the most delicious thing you've ever tasted.
"What a minute, so you're telling me the b*tch started stalking you after a one-night stand?" you laugh as Jey laughs out loud.
"Hell yeah, man. A stripper turned stalker. I had to get a restraining order." Jey laughs, shaking his head.
"Geez...You must've really put it on her. They say good d can make a b*tch crazy." You say as you gaze at Jey, suddenly feeling a heat overcome your body. You close your eyes momentarily, a dull ache forming in your head, your ears slightly ringing.
Jey tilts his head at you, a look of concern washing over him.
"Y/n? Are you okay?" he asked, guilt starting to consume him.
He should've told you to leave as soon as you sat down at the bar. Yet, he didn't. And here he was, watching something horrific that was about to take place. But he couldn't break the rules. After all, many who stepped inside this club should know the risks. This club was called The 7 Deadly Sins for a reason. Once you entered through the doors, you'd never leave the same.........if you left at all.
"Mmmmm.....my head." You groan, stumbling to your feet.
"Y/n? Y-you should leave.... now." Jey says nervousness laced in his voice.
"I-I think I gotta throw up." You whine as you stumble aimlessly, not even sure where the bathrooms are located.
Your head was starting to hurt so much you couldn't even hear Jey calling after you as you made your way through the dancing bodies. You don't even notice that your sister and friends are nowhere to be found. You didn't notice the atmosphere in the club suddenly changed.
You stumble through the crowd as your blurry vision finally makes out a bathroom sign at the very back of the club. Thank God, you felt sick to your stomach.
You push people out of your way as you hurry through the bathroom halls, seeing a sign for the women's bathroom come into view. It was at the very end of the hallway. You have to lean along the wall to guide you as your vision is almost completely gone.
What's happening to me?
You make it to the bathroom door, but by that time, you're crawling on your knees. Your trembling hand grips the door hand as you can barely push it open.
"H-heeeeelp!" You cry out but of course, the bathroom is dark and empty.
You crawl into the bathroom, your head pounding like a drum. You're only able to make it to the center of the bathroom before your body completely gives out on you. You turn over onto your side, staring at the wall as you try to blink to clear your vision, but alas, it doesn't help. Were you dying? Is this what dying felt like? Clearly, because you felt as if you couldn't breathe, the only thing you could hear was the thumping of your heart in your chest but even that was ceasing.
Suddenly, you hear the bathroom door creak open and the sound of someone making their way over to you, whistling a tune to themselves.
You try to speak and call out for help, but your mouth can only move, yet no sound is produced. It isn't until the person stands right in front of your face that you're able to just barely see a familiar pair of red, black, and white Air Jordans.
You then hear a low chuckle before everything goes black.
~~
Your eyes flutter open as you slowly begin to awaken. Your headache was suddenly gone, but your body was feeling as if the temperature in the unfamiliar room was rising. You look around, confused. Your vision was back, thankfully, but no longer were you lying on the floor of the bathroom, but here you were in this dark room:
You look down at your body and no longer were you wearing the red dress you remember putting on, but instead, you were in a sexy red and black lingerie set. Your heart nearly skips a beat as you try to move but the sudden jerk of your arms and you realize you're restrained, handcuffed to the bed by a pair of red handcuffs:
What the fuck?........
Your mind begins to frantically think back to what occurred before you passed out. You faintly remember Jey trying to tell you something before you stumbled away from the bar. Get away? Run away? Leave? You can't remember exactly, but here you are, now wishing you'd listened to him.
Fuck.....where am I?
You look around the empty room before you see a black door, a dim red light showing from underneath it. Maybe if you cry out for help, someone will come to save you. But then again, you were almost too afraid to speak. That's how people get killed in the horror movies. But then again, this was no horror movie. And there were no cameramen or director to scream cut! This was a reality. Your reality. And you had to find a way out, even if it meant dying trying.
"HELLLLLLP! HEEEEELP! JEY! HEEEEELP ME! PLEASE!" you cry out into the empty room, hoping your voice is loud enough to hear.
But of course, you get no response. Only the sound of your heavy breathing.
You had to keep trying. You had to get out of here and save yourself.
Wait.......
Fallon.....
Tyra......
Zaina.....
"Oh my God......" you whisper as you can't even remember the last time you saw them.
You remembered them being on the dance floor, but that's it. You don't remember them coming to check on you. You don't even remember seeing them as you pushed and clawed through dancing bodies trying to get to the bathroom. Where were they?
You struggle against the restraints, hurting your wrists as you try to release yourself, but you just can't get loose.
"You know....you're wasting your time." You hear a familiar, deep voice out of nowhere.
You gasp, looking around frantically before your eyes land on a dark figure sitting across the room, calmly twirling a drink in one hand.
You squint your eyes before you're able to make out the familiar face of Joe, the club owner. He's sitting comfortably as he stares at you intensely.
What was he doing? What did he want? Why was he doing this? Why you?
"W-w-what do you want from me? Please don't do this-" he cuts you off with a low chuckle.
"Baby girl...now is not the time to beg......trust, we'll get to that later. But first, let me answer the questions that are surely going through your mind. What am I doing, you may ask? I'm simply here to fulfill your desires. What do I want? You. Why am I doing this? Hahaha Because you may not know it, but you want me to. Why you? You chose your sin and now this is where the fun begins." He says as he slowly rises to his feet, his tall frame coming fully into view.
Oh my.... he was now shirtless, his tribal tattoos on full display. His hair was no longer in a bun, instead, it was wet and cascading down. You can't help it as your mouth immediately waters. You clench your legs together as you suddenly feel moisture begin to build up between your legs. It's like you aren't in control of your body anymore.
He slowly makes his way over to you, rubbing his hands together and licking his lips.
Oh, the things you'd love for him to do with that tongue......
Wait......what?!
This had to be the drink talking because there's no way.....
"W-w-what did you do to me?! Where's Jey?! Where are my friends?! Where's my sister?!" you yell, pulling at the cuffs as he laughs again. Damn, that taunting laugh of his.
"Oh, well your sister chose Sloth....and well.....let's just say Jonathan is putting her ass to sleep." He smirks as he eyes you up and down, finally approaching the bed.
"What about-"
"Tyra? Zaina? Jey and Joseph are keeping them occupied as well. But enough about them. Let's focus on what I'm about to do to this beautiful body of yours." He teases, slowly crawling on the bed until he's on top of you.
Your body is suddenly overcome with need and desire. You try to push the dirty thoughts away, but each time an even nastier thought creeps into your mind. God.....you just wanted him to touch you, please you, tease you, anything to calm this fire inside you. It was becoming too much.
"Give into it, Y/n. Let it consume you. Let it use you." He whispers, pressing himself between your legs to let you feel how hard he was.
Fuck.....it felt so good you couldn't help but moan.
He chuckles lowly as his lips trail along your neck, teasing you, daring you to ask for more.
You're breathing heavily as he moves his head to stare you deeply in the eyes, almost as if to hypnotize you. He then leans down until his lips are almost touching yours.
"Baby girl, by the time I'm done with you...that pussy will have a new owner." He laughs lowly as you're consumed by lust, succumbing to the temptation....
Once you've picked your sin, this is where the fun begins.
@romanstheory tagging you bestie because I love you 🥺❤️
P.S. If anyone would like to be tagged in my writings, just lemme know. ❤️ I know from my previous writing, Family Feud Preview, that some asked to be a part of the tag list, however, I'm not sure if that's with all of my writings or specific ones, so I didn't tag anyone in this as I do not want to burden anyone with too much tagging. But anyways, as always, thank you all so much for the support.
#roman reigns#roman reigns fanfiction#roman reigns one shot#roman reigns smut#roman reigns x reader#wwe smut#roman reigns imagines#roman reigns x black reader#jey uso#jimmy uso#the bloodline#wwe fanfiction#wwe imagine
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Confession time + "Surprise!"
Hello thanks for the opportunity *-*
I would like to request :
- After reader came back badly hurt from a mission(but will survive) -> 5 (if you do not like it maybe 25)
- Albert
- well then romantic x)
- fluff
(And I'll wait next year to ask 28 or 4 xD haha)
Thanks <3
Albert James Moriarty
A/N: I kind of made Albert more on the teasing side if that's okay ^^"
You gasped as you shot upright, cold sweat trickling down your forehead as you panted, finding yourself on a bed and covered in bandages.
'What-Ow!' you flinched as a sharp pain shot through your side.
You groaned as you looked around, seeing you were inside a hospital room and found a vase of red roses on your bedside table.
"...What happened in the mission?..." you muttered, trying to recall what led you here.
"Excuse me-" the door opened, and you saw a doctor walk in, a shocked expression on his face when he saw you.
You awkwardly waved your hand, snapping him out of it, and called for a nurse in a hurry, making you more nervous.
'How long was I out?'
"Four weeks!?" you repeated, stunned by the answer as the doctor confirmed.
"Aside from a traumatic brain injury, you also had a couple of broken ribs and numerous cuts all over your arms, legs, and torso," the doctor listed as he wrote on his clipboard, making you look down at your bandage-covered body.
"You will need to stay in the hospital for at least two more weeks so we can monitor your recovery," he added, making you internally sigh.
"Okay..." you muttered, processing this new information.
"You're quite lucky," the doctor added, pocketing his pen, "If you were brought just a minute too late, you might not have survived,"
"Yes! You have quite the loving husband," the nurse happily added, making you blink at her in confusion.
"I-I'm sorry... husband?"
"A man brought you in. It was quite the sight, seeing a noble covered in blood while carrying someone in his arms," the doctor mused, making you freeze.
'A noble... That means...' you thought, knowing only two people who can fit the title.
"E-Excuse me..." you called out, catching the two's attention, "The man who brought me here... What color was his hair?"
"Brown,"
'That's what I thought...!' you thought in horror, already hearing the teasing and jokes from a mile away.
"He's quite the devoted husband, too! Visiting you every day with roses in hand," the nurse happily sighed as if congratulating you.
You felt your face flush at her comment, making you quickly deny it.
"N-No, you've got it all wrong!"
"Speaking of him," the doctor quipped, pulling out his pocketwatch as he ignored your protests, "He should be arriving soon,"
The door opened as if on cue, revealing a tired Albert holding a bouquet of roses.
His eyes slowly looked up and landed on you, making him gasp as his eyes widened.
"We'll take this as a sign to leave," the nurse whispered, winking at you as she pulled the doctor along and left the room, unable to give you a second to protest.
As the door closed, you could feel the heavy awkwardness in the air.
"S-Surprise...!" we weakly greeted, wanting to feel the silence with something while Albert kept quiet.
"S-Sorry, I guess that's not the first you should say when you wake up from a-" you felt Albert hug you tightly, not applying pressure on your injuries as you saw the roses he had a second ago fall on the floor.
"You're awake..." he whispered, his whole body trembling as he kept you close.
You took a deep breath as you hugged him back.
"Yeah... I'm back..."
"I can feed myself," you grumbled with flushed cheeks, avoiding the apple slice Albert was trying to feed you.
"You shouldn't move so much," he warned with a glare, making you sigh and reluctantly take the slice.
As you chewed, you looked over to the roses Albert brought in, now replacing the roses from before.
"Say... The flowers," you turned around to him, making him look at the vase.
"...I've been changing them whenever I visit," he confirmed, giving you another slice.
"I see..." you replied, remembering the nurse's comment as you looked away in embarrassment.
"Is something wrong?" Albert quickly got up from his seat, touching your forehead as he checked your temperature.
"I'm fine! I'm okay!" you quickly confirmed, pulling his hand off as he sighed in relief.
"That's good to hear..." he muttered, grabbing the fruits again.
You raised a brow as you looked at him, not used to seeing this side of him.
"...Since when have you been this caring?" you bluntly asked, catching him off guard.
He breathed out a smirk as he peeled another apple.
"Since I almost lost the person I love," he confessed, making you freeze.
"Don't joke about that," you grumbled, feeling your face warm up as Albert chuckled with a teasing grin.
"Who said it was a joke?"
#yuukoku no moriarty x reader#moriarty the patriot x reader#valentines#albert moriarty x reader#albert james moriarty x reader#albert james moriarty#albert moriarty#jq valentines event
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winter solstice happiness 🥟❄️
aside from their studios posting very close to each other, which is something we will now be monitoring lol. seriously. they just did it last 12/15 and now again? hahahahahaha! i like the idea tho that some are saying, how this is a reward for bxgs who are working hard for these damn weibo tickets! anyway, here are other things we have noticed from today.
nothing serious, just good old clowning! ✌🏼
last time i talked about people knowing what songs wyb is listening to, so fans are saying it’s wyb’s qq music and those who are friends with his real account can view some of his songs & playlist. they said he is listening to the following tracks:
interesting choices. cause isn’t wyb supposed to be into rock music lately? so why is he listening to this kind lately? we do know tho that xz prefers this type as well, so maybe wyb is playing this while he is with xz. 🤍
from the caption in ybo’s post “looking at everything”. this has actually been talked about before, but xz and xzs are fond of using the world everything/all things. so it’s 👀 when we saw it. of course the whole song and concept of wyb’s new single may be different and have more meaning as we get the lyrics and all that. but this one tiny thing is interesting.
there is also the bit in the preview that mentions loving the old & new. does this mean his “old” and “new” self since there has been changes in wyb’s life and who he is the public eye. some are comparing this to xz’s interview where he said there are 2 xiao zhans. again, this is a very early interpretation based on a small fraction of what we will have when we get the song but it’s fun to speculate 🤷🏻♀️
i’m personally curious tho why it’s moved to 12/29 when it has always been 12/30 release date? i guess we will have the answer at the right time.
I also already mentioned this one, in C position is this b&w photo. We all know how WYB is fond of taking b&w photos lately so this is making me happy. Most likely not taken by WYB of course but the b&w that stands out in the middle is 🤍. He is also using the fan wyb gave him and then his phone where you can see that he is still using the card case. Maybe they used it as a break from all the professional photos in the grid but ofc our turtle brain is telling us otherwise.
fans are also joking around cause xz’s photos show the left side of his face. which is his “good side”? sure. but why not the right? don’t you want us to compare it from this one???? 🤣🤣🤣
ANYWAY, WE ARE SO LUCKY! BXGs have it real good. WYB’s new song on 12/29 and in between we might have some LOCH wrap content. Then for NYE, hopefully XZ will go to Dragon TV as rumored. WYB on the other hand will be with CCTV and then Hunan TV. It’s gonna be busy for us before the year ends! Let’s gooooo!!!!!! 💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼
source.
#i literally ordered dumplings lol for winter solstice tho we don’t have winter where im from 🤣🤣🤣🤣#yizhan#bjyx#there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do#im posting it now before my workday starts lol
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hi! can i please request a kyungsoo x f!reader fix where it’s an unestablished relationship and they work at a convenience store together while in college. kyungsoo is very shy/introverted but your asshole ex shows up and you see a whole new side of kyungsoo when he randomly protects you. thank you!
pairing: do kyungsoo x reader
word count: 1194
genre: fluffy i guess? idk
warnings: kyungsoo being a threat, but also kyungsoo being awkward and cute, swearing, physical fight (?)
a/n: can i date him? please let me date him
"the store is closed", you heard kyungsoo say and instantly frowned. what did he mean ‘the store was closed’? you still had about 30 minutes before the end of the shift, and he knew that very well.
do kyungsoo was a shy, quiet, sometimes even intimidating guy, but he wasn't one to play around while working - that's why you left him at the store while you organized the stock at the back, risking another item from your to-do list for the next day.
but it was only when the customer said something you couldn't quite understand, and kyungsoo mumbled back at them, that you thought that maybe you should see what was happening. customers were customers, no matter what and no matter what time they decided to stop by the store.
but, wait... were they really?
the moment you stepped into the front of the store, you immediately felt like turning around and walking away.
of course your ex should be the one causing trouble. of course you had to see him after weeks of him ghosting you.
"y/n, hi!", he said with a smile as fake as his feelings for you. "i almost thought it was your day off."
you walked behind the counter, beside kyungsoo. with a soft hand on his arm, you tried to smile at him, mumbling a 'i got this'. he only took a few steps back to give you some room though.
"um, yeah... i was at the back, doing some things", you explained, even though you knew you didn't owe him shit. "why are you here?"
your ex started to hum to a tune, grabbing a few snacks and a beverage before walking up to the counter. he smiled at you again, dropping his items and leaning in.
"i needed to grab a few things", he said. "plus, i missed you. i was thinking about inviting you over this weekend."
"if you missed me, why didn't you reply to my texts?"
just for the sake of it, you should see the frown kyungsoo did behind you when he heard your words.
"my phone broke down, i didn't know you had texted me!", he gasped. "shit, i'm so sorry, darling."
"i'm not your darling."
you started to beep his items as you spoke, trying not to look at him anymore.
"anyways", he chuckled. "i've been thinking about you, and i feel like we should talk. my roommate won't be in town this weekend, so why don't you come over? i can make us some pasta..."
"sorry, that is a no to me", you said, quickly pointing at the monitor beside you. "cash?"
your ex followed your gaze to the monitor, starting to pat his pockets.
"fuck, i think i forgot my wallet at home", he faked a groan. "can't you put it under your name? i'll pay you this week."
"hell no, last time you didn't pay me shit and the amount was taken from my salary", you frowned. "if you can't pay for it, then we can't sell it."
your ex tilted his head at you, annoyed. "why you gotta be like that?"
"like what?"
"all i did was love you, and now just because we broke up, you're suddenly all mean to me?"
you gasped. "you really don't wanna do this now."
"i'm trying to be nice, to get us back together, but you won't even give me the chance", he complained. "you cunt."
as you were ready to fight back, you felt a warm hand on your arm, pulling you aside and taking the place in front of your ex.
"say that again", kyungsoo threatened in a low voice. "i dare you."
"say what?", your ex smirked. "cunt?"
everything kind of happened way too fast. you gasped at the same time your ex screamed, as kyungsoo grabbed his ear and pulled with a strange amount of force.
kyungsoo walked around the counter, not letting your ex go for a second, despite his complaints and curse words.
"kyungsoo! oh my god, let him go!", you exclaimed, but it was a mystery if he was listening or not.
"apologize", he demanded. when your ex didn't reply, kyungsoo just tugged at his ear tighter. "i said apologize."
"i-i'm sorry, i'm sorry!"
"good."
with that, kyungsoo quite literally dragged your ex across the whole store, ignoring the way you were following him, not a single emotion shown on his face. he only stopped once he was outside the store, where he pushed your ex until he was on the ground, hands rubbing his left ear.
"i told you the store was closed, you should have listened to me", kyungsoo sarcastically said.
"you son of a bitch!", your ex exclaimed as he got up. as shocked and nervous as you were, you couldn't help but smile at that sight. "are you crazy?"
"you're lucky i didn't feel like punching you", kyungsoo shrugged. "now fuck off, and you better not come back here ever again."
your ex shot kyungsoo a middle finger, before starting to walk away as another string of curses came out of his mouth.
it was only when he had turned a corner, that you finally had the heart to react.
"kyungsoo! oh my god... are you insane?", you almost screamed, but still there was a tiny smile on your lips. "there are cameras here! you could lose your job!"
once again, he just shrugged. "i'm sure mr. kim would understand."
"yeah, but if he doesn't?", you complained. kyungsoo turned around and walked into the store again, as if he was trying to ignore you. "i mean it, okay?! you can't... you can't just beat someone like that."
"i didn't beat him", he frowned, looking at you over his shoulder as he grabbed the items your ex had left behind, going around to place them where they belonged. "i just put him in his rightful place. it's not my fault that he's a pussy and can't fight back."
you mentally thanked god that kyungsoo wasn't looking at you at that moment - you didn't want him to see how hard you had to hold back your laugh.
- x -
on the next day, it felt like kyungsoo was your closest friend. he spent the whole day talking to you, asking you things and helping you out at your chores - not that he didn't already do that as your workmate, but you didn't miss the way his fingers slowly brushed yours throughout the day.
"hey... do you like pasta?", kyungsoo asked during your lunch break, eyes looking down at you.
"um, yes...", you hesitated, suddenly remembering your ex's offer from the day before. "why?"
kyungsoo took a seat next to you. he rested the pot he had on his hands onto his lap, opening it and showing you its content. your stomach flipped, in a good way, when you saw the most beautiful homemade pasta ever.
"i promise it's better than... well, you know...", he said with a smile that quickly turned into a chuckle when you nodded at him.
let's just say both the pasta and the one who did it were truly much, much better than your ex.
#do kyungsoo x reader#do kyungsoo x you#do kyungsoo imagines#do kyungsoo fanfic#kyungsoo x reader#kyungsoo x you#kyungsoo imagines#kyungsoo fanfic#d.o imagines#exo x reader#exo x you#exo imagines#exo scenarios#exo fanfic#exo d.o#d.o exo#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#kpop fanfic#exo#do kyungsoo#d.o#kyungsoo
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ironstrange meet America Chavez
This got a little out of hand. I really thought I could make it in 200 or 300 words. 663 words later...
-
When a star-shaped hole is punched into the universe, right in the middle of the upscale restaurant where Stephen and Tony are dining, Stephen can’t help thinking, Of course. Of course our first proper date in six weeks has to be interrupted.
Resentment aside, his shields are up and he can hear Tony’s armor engaging before anything steps out of the odd portal.
When something does, Stephen has to forcibly remind himself that appearances can be deceiving. Just because the visitor looks like a teenage girl in a denim jacket doesn’t mean that’s what it is.
Except that she looks around the restaurant with visible surprise and says, “Oh! I’m interrupting, aren’t I? Geez, I’m sorry.” She looks right at Stephen. “Usually you’re reading in the Sanctum about this time. Every other visit it’s been fine. I guess that couldn’t go on forever, though.”
“Usually?” Stephen asks, wary. “I’ve never met you before.”
“Usually as in other yous in other universes,” the girl says cheerfully.
Other universes. This just got complicated. Traveling the multiverse is supposed to be impossible.
Tony’s synthesized voice interrupts. “Shall we take this discussion outside?”
Stephen risks a glance. They’ve garnered quite a crowd. Tony’s right, they need to remove themselves, if only for the sake of potential damage control. Fortunately, the girl raises no objection. The three of them leave—Tony waving at the Maitre d’ so that he knows they’ll get paid—and Stephen portals them to the Sanctum.
“So, you’re Stephen Strange,” the girl says, dropping comfortably onto a sofa, “and I’m America Chavez. But I don’t know the robot.”
“They don’t have Iron Man in your universe?” Tony sounds incensed, but he doesn’t raise the faceplate.
America’s face lights up with recognition. “Oh! Yeah, I see it now. Sorry, all the memorials leave the helmet out.”
Tony does let the helmet retract at that. “Memorials?”
America winces. “Yeah. You’re, um. You’re usually dead by this point in the timeline.”
Stephen can’t help the shock of dismay that arcs through him. He shoots a quick glance at Tony, as if the words themselves might strike him down. Tony responds with a reassuring smile and a tap at his chestplate, a reminder not of the arc reactor, but that Friday is always monitoring his health.
“Did I interrupt a date?” America asks. She looks thrilled.
“Yes,” Stephen says carefully. “Is that… significant?”
“Not in a multiversal sense,” America assures them. “But it’s good news for my whole reason for these visits! My Stephen—” She falters and then goes on, “Well, not the Stephen from my original universe, but my favorite Stephen— Is it bad that I have a favorite Stephen?” She looks to Stephen to answer this question, wide eyed.
Stephen’s at a loss for an answer. Fortunately, Tony steps in with a grin. “Nah, I think it's pretty natural. This one is my favorite Stephen.”
America laughs, bouncing a little in her seat. “I love this! Anyway, my Stephen is convinced that he’s somehow cosmically doomed to be unhappy.” She sighs. “I mean, he’s been through some shit, I’m not saying he doesn’t have a right to his issues, but he doesn’t believe me or Wong when we tell him that things will get better if he puts the work in. So I thought, if I can prove to him that misery isn’t his multiversal destiny, it might help him get out of this rut he’s in.”
“I see.” Slowly, Stephen sinks down onto the couch opposite America. Tony sits beside him. “How’s that going?”
She shrugs “Some good, some bad. I’m still gathering data. But this—” She gestures between him and Tony, lighting up again. “This is really promising! Tell me everything. It can only help if I can tell my Stephen he’s capable of a happy long term relationship.”
Stephen trades a bemused glance with Tony, but, well, it really doesn’t seem like it could hurt anything. And Tony does love talking about their relationship.
They settle in.
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Love at First Sight - Neymar Imagine - Chapter One
Summary:
Y/N is scared to fall in love. She fell once, and it was a nightmare. She can't risk it again. But, this lucky boy manages to steal her heart, but unfortunately, manages to break it at the same time. What will Y/Ns decisions be?
I got employed as a medical team doctor for PSG, I start work today. I'm kind of nervous of what's about to happen. I think of all the possibilities, mostly negative ones. I worry if communication with the players will be an issue, because I speak good french, however, it's not my first language. I'm also fluent in English and my native language, Portuguese.
I arrive at the stadium. I'm supposed to be present during daily trainings, also. I park my car and go to the main office. I check into work and grab my equipment and make my way to the field where the players are already training. The moment I step on the field, I feel eyes on me. This makes me feel so anxious and it's not helping at all. I know some of the players because I watch football, however, they all looked like strangers to me at that moment.
I approach one of the coaches and introduce myself, he was expecting me. I shake his hand and smile. He begins to explain all the responsibilities I have during daily trainings. I'm supposed to monitor the healing process of the players that are injured at that time.
Before I applied, I spoke to a couple of people who used to work here. They only said good things about this job, making it easier for me to decide. They told me that the players and the staff tend to be very friendly through everything. Obviously, they except you to give your best performance, but still want to keep a healthy relationship between people in that environment.
After a few minutes, some players come up to me to introduce themselves and get to know me. This guy, who's face looks extremely familiar approaches me first.
"Hi, I'm Neymar. Nice to meet you!" he says to me, and extends his hand.
"Hello, Neymar. I'm Y/N, the new medical team assistant. Nice to meet you too!" I say back to him and I smile. He can tell my hand is shaking from the emotions, so he gives my hand a light squeeze before he releases it.
"I guess you will be seeing this guy in your office a lot then. Aahahaha!" this other guy says, making everyone laugh and approaches me.
"Hi, I'm Kylian. Nice to meet you, do you speak French?" he shakes my hand and asks.
"Hi, Kylian. Nice to meet you too. Yes, I do." I say the last part in french.
There's one last guy left to meet me from the three of them. As he's reaching to shake my hand. Neymar says to him in a low volume "she's extremely beautiful, oh,my god." in Portuguese. He responds back to him "yes, she is." and then turns his head to me and shakes my hand.
"Hi, I'm Thiago. Nice to meet you" he says to me in a broken English. I shake his hand.
"Hi, Thiago. Nice to meet you too. You can always talk to me in Portuguese." I say back to him and smile, I look at Neymar when I say "Portuguese" because a want to see his reaction of me understanding what he said a few seconds before. He looked shocked and started turning red immediately. Thiago starts laughing and explains the thing to a curious Kylian. The all laugh together aside from Neymar who's still a bit shocked.
I hear my name being called by the team and I excuse myself from the three guys. I grab the equipment bag and hug everyone goodbye.
"See you all around guys. Thank you for welcoming me" I smile and make my way to the bench. I decide to turn my head and take a quick look at the guys I left behind. Kylian was hugging Neymar from behind playfully and saying something to him while winking. I have to admit I felt butterflies. But, I can't let this distract me from my job, at least on my first day. He's cute, though. Very cute actually.
#neymar masterlist#neymar#neymar x reader#neymar imagines#neymar imagine#neymar jr x reader#neymar jr fanfiction#neymar jr imagines#neymar jr imagine#neymar jr#imagines#football imagine#football imagines#fanfiction#football masterlist#mbappe x reader#mbappe imagine#masterlist
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OUR SPRING
013. bros before hoes
a/n. rin pov for this chapter !
July 2022
Challenges and new difficulties never scared or worried Rin.
However, that was only limited to football. Sure, a successful change in career was an amazing feat done by him, and it doesn't compare to moving up a class in mathematics. But in music, he has the other three, as well as the company, and on the soccer field there are 10 other players by his side, as well as the bench, coach and manager.
But within this classroom, he was on his own.
He knew that very well, and his expectations were met the moment he walked in and settled down at a desk.
"Why is Rin in this class?"
"He's delusional if he thinks he can do well here."
"Isn't he really stupid?"
Hate isn't something foreign to Rin. Even before becoming an idol many despised him and his diligence, as well as his skills and abilities. They can't do anything to him; they don't even have the guts to say it directly at him because they know they his fame won't let them get away with it.
What really worried him, was how true their statements were.
"Oi Tada." Rin wasn't one to involve himself in any drama, but this time he was genuinely curious, and was also technically apart of it. He carefully listened to the stranger without making it obvious.
"Don't go around running your mouth. Especially about grades when you've only gotten 60% at best here." Aside from English, Rin would've considered 60% on a test great, to him, a pass was a pass.
'Tada' was offended, immediately lashing out. "I'm sorry you're smart, only three people got As last semester." What kind of excuse was that?
The stranger remained stoic, Rin would've retaliated violently if someone tried to justify their words by calling him skilled. "Then join us three, shouldn't be that hard?"
"The tests here are hard-"
"Doesn't matter. Regardless of how hard it is you have no right to judge someone else and are in position to do so or even try."
The argument was cut short with the arrival of the teacher, but the winner was evident; the calm stranger sat next to Rin. Must be a fan of his if they sat with him without hesitation.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I already said I was." He had no idea why they kept bothering with him, maybe if he gave them an autograph they'll stop.
"Geez. You're cold."
"Then go sit somewhere else." Rin missed when all his actions and words weren't monitored, now he can't call anyone an idiot or lukewarm without getting cancelled.
"You think I want to sit near that?" He'd rather die than admit it, but the disgusted accentuation of the last word and the gesture towards the rest of the class amused him. "That's what I thought."
"So, what's your name?" They continued speaking. "I'm y/n."
The question proves his guess wrong, you weren't a fan and didn't even know who he was. There's a tiny bit of guilt for assuming otherwise.
"Itoshi Rin."
"Nice meeting you. I'll be seeing you a lot from now on."
"Doubt that." Give it a test or two and the teacher would start convincing him to move back down to standard. "Studying isn't my thing."
"You're so pessimistic." You switch to a whisper, as the teacher assigns work for revision of the previous semester.
"I'm being realistic. I'm shit at school." He wouldn't talk about himself this much with someone outside of his band, but his academic capabilities were no secret, pretty much everyone knew how low his results were.
"So? You can improve a lot regardless."
"Easier said than done."
"I was bad at math last year."
"Your idea of bad is anything under an A." It's a guess, most people who were good at school would rather die than get anything that wasn't outstanding. Rin acknowledges how suffocating perfectionism was, especially when people invalidate the sense of disappointment just because others would kill for the same result; now he sort of understands how other soccer players felt.
"I guess that's true." Rin scoffs at your agreement. "But I've done a lot worse than a B."
"Can't be that bad."
"47% was my first result last year." It's pretty good in comparison to Rin's results, but if a pass was a pass, then a fail was a fail. "Then I got around 70%." You probably ended up investing in tuition if you improved that much.
"Then 30%." That sounded a lot more relatable to Rin.
"You weren't wrong about bad."
"See? But then I got an 87% after that."
"Are you here just to show off your grades?" It came out coldly, but he didn't say it with hostile intentions.
"No, my point is, anyone can improve."
"Don't bother, I can't get a tutor."
" You don't need a tutor either, I didn't need one." But we're not the same. Rin's so tempted to say it out loud, why were you trying so hard to help him?
"Fine. I'll give you a term and if you were wrong don't even bother."
"Deal."
Rin's happy.
He can't help but grin (a rare occasion) at the 75% in bright red, you really weren't lying when you insisted he'd be fine. It's not exactly perfect, nor an A, but it's such a significant improvement and that's all that matters; he's proud of himself.
"See? I told you you'd do better. Well done." You pat his shoulder, as you're both on the way to the station.
Even if you were wrong about him, he'd still be content. Not only you were efficient at teaching, but you were also kind, and a generally comfortable person to be around. Nothing you said was unnecessary or illegitimate, you were honest but not harsh.
Rin's opened up to you a lot. From the reason why he quit soccer to another potential career change in the future. It didn't matter what it was since you always listened without judgement.
"I can't take any credit, it's all yours. You're the one who taught me everything. He still can't understand why you think of him so highly, you're the one who put most of the effort into making sure he could perform well, while maintaining your own grade simultaneously.
"Don't discredit yourself."
Before Rin can respond, you continue speaking.
"It was you who ultimately decided to join the advanced class, you put a lot of effort it without ruining the rest of your schedule. Be proud of yourself Rin, most people can't even dream of confronting their struggles. It's scary to try something new."
Rin agrees with the last statement, even if he did it with the expectation of giving up quickly.
"y/n."
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
"For?"
"Everything." For defending him on the first day. For helping him. For believing in him.
"That's what friends are for, no?"
Friends. The closest to those were his bandmates (or as Reo calls it 'family', with him as the doting parent and Hyoma and Rin as the 'kids'), or teammates, who he doesn't even speak to anymore. You're probably the first person to willingly talk to him normally, not because you're forced to or interested in his fame.
Rin pulls you in for a hug, earning a surprised gasp from you. He releases you quickly, after processing what he just did.
"Sor-"
But before he can finish apologising, you hug him back, to Rin, the affection is foreign yet welcomed.
July 2023
Rin tosses his phone onto his bed, as he drops his school bag on the floor. He'd never tell him but the conversation with Hyoma had a smile tugging at his lips; both at how ridiculous is was and how it reminded him of you.
There's a deep sense of gratitude Rin has, that two of his close friends are dating; because he cares for both of you. He knows very well that you're both amazing people (even if he does slander Hyoma constantly) and only wants the best for your relationship.
TWELVE | FOURTEEN | MASTERLIST
PAIRING. chigiri hyoma x reader
SYNOPSIS. school gets overwhelming with constant rumours and accusations, thankfully someone is willing to help. but what happens when this mutually beneficial agreement escalates into something more?
GENRE. social media au, fake dating, idol / actor au
TAGLIST. @saesins, @angelchigiri, @punkhazardlaw, @silly-ez, @y-sabell-a, @mellozhi, @luvlunazx, @oldest-dream-pdf, @misfits1a, @hoshithinker, @livelaughloveisagiyoichi, @mave-in, @rinsie, @luvcryo, @fabitheraven, @h3xi2g0n3
© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate
#our spring - kitorin#this was so hard to write#basically it sounded better in my head#blue lock#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#bllk#fluff#itoshi rin#chigiri hyoma smau#chigiri hyoma fluff#chigiri hyoma#chigiri x reader#chigiri headcanons#chigiri fluff#bluelock#chigiri hyoma x you#chigiri hyoma x reader#bllk imagines#smau#social media au#bllk smau#blue lock smau#bllk fluff#bllk x you
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Baby Susan; Jack Chambers
Jack and Alice looked in awe at the sweet baby bundle tucked away in her crib. The flamingo crocheted quilt, hugged her tight enough for security. "Alice, isn't amazing how we created something so beautiful?" Alice laid her head on Jack's shoulder.
"Yeah.....look at her little nose," As if on cue, Susan's diaphanous nose twitched like a little bunny. "She has your eyes Alice, and your hair and smile." Alice giggled, while continuing her gaze at her baby girl.
"She has your nose." Jack beamed in pride as seeing that when Susan was born, she looked like a copy of Alice. Despite the colossal jubilation Jack felt at Susan's birth, his mind did bellyache at the fact of Susan only favoring him to a microscopic degree. When he pictured his new offspring, she would have light brown hair with enriching green eyes like her mother and deep dimples like him. She would be a gentle and ladylike soul like Alice, but a stubborn jack rabbit like himself.
But nonetheless, Susan was more than anything he could've dreamed of. She was perfect in everyway. He soft pale skin, her mushy cheeks that he splattered in kisses every moment he got and her benign little cries that she echoed throughout the house for a diaper change or a bottle.
Her personality was already shaping itself. She was a quiet baby, with only a little to say, Susan was a miss independent as she focused her baby brain on doing things herself. She was also obedient; determined to mind the do's and don'ts of her parents. She would stare into their eyes, almost as if asking for approval for an okay to squawk out a cry or to grab something that seemed edgy for her.
Jack and Alice too their positions into their own bed, after reading a goodnight story and kissing the 2 month old baby goodnight. Jack watched from the bed as Alice fixed herself up for bed; her gentle smooth hands rubbing her sheeny face and neck. She stared at herself in the mirror with such modesty yet insufferable pride at the same time.
Alice sat legs crossed while applying her night serum. Her black lingerie layed perfectly around the curves of her body. She finished up before inviting herself next to Jack in the bed. Alice's head hit the pillow before Jack had the chance to ask her if she wanted to indulge in the book the two had started together. But Alice's snores told something different. Jack had to face it, she was home most of the day with Susan and it was a daunting task in itself to care for such a little susceptible infant. I guess it's just me. Jack thought before turning the page of the chapter he already finished.
Soon it turned dusk midnight, Jack asleep with the book page cornered and set aside on the nightstand, spooning Alice as the young couple were snoozing away in the mildly heated pale yellow room, tucked away in azure pixelated covers. That was until a baby's shriek wrested them alive.
Alice dashed into Susan's bedroom; rollers in her hair bouncing along with the lavender robe she covered herself in. Jack laid in bed still; hand going over the empty indention of where Alice's body was.
"Shhh, my butterfly...there, there." Alice cooed through the monitor. Jack was soothed by Alice's sweet song like voice, gently rocking his baby back to sleep. "You just wanted someone to hold you? Well, mommy's here baby....she'll always be there." Jack didn't even recon the smile that had incoherently spread across his face. Alice had said the last part with the gentle voice she always uses. But the feeling of deep admiration and devotion for her baby lingered in her tone which uprooted Jack from his warm spot in the bed, and into Susan's bedroom, where he was greeted by a nursing Susan and a sleepy wife.
Jack was awestruck by the site. The tiny baby was suckling for milk and her sapped mother, laid back in the pale green rocking chair the couple had taken the liberty to make. Mostly Jack. Being the do-it-yourself type of guy, Jack constructed the chair as a present for Alice, like a thank you for carrying the baby. Jack carefully took Susan after she was done with her midnight snack and placed her into the crib.
He then adjusted Alice's top part and carried her into the shared bed they had. "Goodnight my princess," Jack placed a sweet kiss to Alice's cheek. "I love you."
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#dadrry#dad!harry#jack chambers daughter#jack chambers imagine#jack chambers#alice chambers#baby susan#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfictions#harry x reader#harry styles dwd
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Apartment #3 - Chapter 2
pairing: steve rogers x undercover!reader
warnings: 18+ SMUT*, Neighbors to Friends to Lovers, lots of angst, heavy mutual pining, hurt/comfort, eventual smut/romance/fluff
summary: as an undercover agent at SHIELD, her newest assignment involves moving in across the hall from her target. she's strictly ordered to keep her distance—no personal contact besides the absolutely necessary. the only issue? her new target neighbor turns out to be Captain America.
excerpt:
Jessica Grace Parker
December 4th, 1989
569 Leaman Place Apt. #3, Brooklyn, NY 11201 Registered Nurse NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital
It’s the undercover alias she’s been assigned as a member of SHIELD’s Special Operations unit. The mission objective was rather simple—monitor the target and report updates as necessary.
She’s gone undercover more than a dozen times, so it’s not the details of the assignment or the temporary relocation she’s concerned about.
It’s just that her target was well… more unusual than most.
author's note: an idea that's been living in my head ever since steve asked sharon for that cup of coffee in their apartment hallway. as a SHIELD agent, the reader's real name has been [REDACTED] to preserve anonymity.
masterlist
“That the last of everything?”
“Yup.” She grunts, unloading the last box of her belongings off the back of Thomas's truck and onto the sidewalk. She dusts off her hands, stepping back as her coworker closes the trunk and locks the vehicle.
“Should you even be here right now?” She murmurs, glancing around nervously, though there are no pedestrians around. This mission was, funnily enough, one of SHIELD’s most coveted. Very few people knew about its existence—aside for Nick Fury, only Thomas and a few other couple agents in special ops were in the loop.
“Eh, what Fury doesn’t know won’t kill him.” Thomas dismisses her with a flick of his wrist, sliding the shades off his face as he surveys the neighborhood. She follows suit, getting a good first look at her new home.
569 Leaman Place was located at a charming little street in Brooklyn Heights—idyllic brownstone row houses with red mahogany doors, bay windows, and black awnings. The entire area seemed like a welcome departure from her old neighborhood in Manhattan—low-rise architecture and narrower streets, lots of warm sun with lush greenery shielding the sidewalks. She could already envision herself sitting outside at one of the cute cafes around the block, sipping on an oat milk latte and spending a leisurely afternoon people-watching.
Yup, she wouldn’t mind living here for a while.
“How are you feeling about the assignment?”
Thomas’s question catches her off guard, breaking her out of her daydream as she glances up, squinting under the bright sunlight.
“What, you mean spying on a national hero? Not too psyched, to be honest.”
“Don’t forget he’s also technically your superior advisor.” He eyes her amusedly, helping her pick up the boxes off the sidewalk and up the stairs of the row house.
“Right.” She mutters, groaning a little at the reminder.
As soon as they drop off the last of the boxes at the entrance, Thomas's phone buzzes with a notification.
“I should be heading back. You want me to call someone to help with this?”
“No, I’ll be fine. Go take care of… whatever that is.”
Cut to half an hour later, when she’s panting and slugging up the stairs of her new apartment, lower back aching from the crushing weight of the box in her arms.
Good lord, maybe she should have thought twice about refusing help—with no elevator or AC, the four flights of stairs between the lobby and her unit seemed longer than a hike up Kilimanjaro.
She grunts, slamming the box down as soon as she reaches the fourth floor. The wooden floor creaks dangerously beneath her, and the sound of the ceiling fan in the hallway is almost deafeningly loud once she takes a second to catch her breath.
Guess some things are better from the outside.
She takes a proper look around the inside of the building—from the faded hardwood to the old carpeting, she’d guess that it was at least a century old.
Out of all the places to live in the city, Captain America chose this place?
She pushes the box away from the stairwell, dragging it across the straggly carpet into a corner. Wiping the sweat off her brow, she stands up, giving her back a much-needed stretch. Then, with a loud sigh, she begins turning around sluggishly, dreading the trip to retrieve the rest of her stuff downstairs, when a voice sounds from the top of the staircase.
“You alright?”
She swivels around, coming face to face with her mission target.
Her eyes flit over his tight compression shirt and a pair of grey sweats, a light sheen of sweat on his neck catching the dull lighting of the hallway as he tilts his head back for a sip of water.
“Hey.” A flash of blue as his eyes meet hers, giving her a nod and a smile. Polite, and a little stiff. Valid, given she was a stranger.
She blinks, reciprocating his greeting with a jaw that feels a little loose at the hinges. He takes another moment to survey her closely before his eyes suddenly grow, brows raising in what she can’t tell is realization or surprise. Her stomach tightens, panic seizing in her throat.
“Oh! Are you…”
The flight or fight instinct inside her flares up—could he really be recognizing her? Perhaps from a millisecond interaction at SHIELD headquarters? Maybe they had attended the same meeting? Passed each other in the lobby? Sat in close proximity during a press conference?
Shit, an hour into the mission? This must be some sort of record.
“…are you moving into that unit?” He sticks his head down the hall, gesturing to the second door on the right—the only one without a welcome mat out in front.
Faded, dark mahogany with the number 3 plated in dull gold.
Thank god.
“Yeah, yes, I am.” She nods, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, though he doesn’t seem to notice.
She notices the friendly smile that starts to bloom on his face, wide and warm, small lines crinkling the corners of cool blue eyes.
“Oh, that’s great, are you new to the neighborhood?”
“Yeah, I just moved from Midtown.”
It wasn’t a complete lie, considering how she did use to live in a SHIELD-commissioned studio apartment in Manhattan. God, she was dearly gonna miss that under-5-minute commute to work. Now she’d have to suffer through a 40 minute train ride every morning, wearing hospital scrubs she would have to change out of as soon as she got to her desk job at SHIELD.
He gives her another nod, holding eye contact for a curiously long time. Her eyes start to falter during the brief moment of silence when his brows raise in realization. He shifts his weight to his right foot, stepping forward, and flashes an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, I’m Steve. I live just down the hall.” He gestures to the door across from hers, wiping his hand on the bottom of his shorts before extending it in greeting.
She glances down at his hand, blinking.
Out of all the details during this first encounter, she’s most surprised by the way he introduces himself—just Steve, an ordinary 30-something-year-old returning home after a run.
It strikes her, then, like whiplash.
To her, Steve was Captain America, someone she’s spent the last few days reading about tirelessly, nailing down every detail.
To Steve, she was just… a neighbor. Someone new to the neighborhood, moving in down the hall.
And with that reality finally sinking in, she accepts Steve’s hand, tentatively slipping her fingers into his palm.
Ah, the famous Captain America handshake.
It’s firm, warm, resolute—nothing short of what you’d expect from America’s hero. She thinks briefly of her friend from work, Thomas, who refused to wash his hands for two whole days after getting a handshake from the man standing in front of her.
Up until this point, Captain Amercia had been little more than a public figure for SHIELD—a glorified symbol of all the values her company supposedly stands behind.
Now, meeting Steve Rogers in the flesh, as he towers over her with his 6-foot-something frame, she starts to understand just why this man had been revered among family, friends, and coworkers alike.
(“He was more godly than, like, Thor, I swear.” Thomas had raved.)
“Jess.” She offers quietly, retracting her hand.
Ugh. Jess. Something about her new identity didn’t sound right. A little too doe-eyed, Zooey-Deschanel-esque for her liking, but perhaps even that had been an intentional move on Fury’s part.
“It’s nice to meet you, Jess.” Her fake name rolls off of Steve’s tongue so smoothly, slow and sweet, and she has to swallow down a sudden wave of nausea that hits the back of her throat.
Steve lingers, gaze flitting over to the messy array of boxes shoved into the corner behind her.
“Do you need help with your boxes? I noticed a few of ‘em were still downstairs.”
“Oh, I…” On one hand, she’s not sure if this would violate the whole ‘minimal contact’ clause of her mission assignment. But then again, her back feels like it’s seconds away from splitting in half, and how could she begin the mission if she can’t even move into her new place?
“It’s really no trouble, I promise.” Steve smiles reassuringly, as if sensing the conflict on her face. Misjudges her pause for polite hesitation.
“… thank you.” She manages to breathes out.
Steve nods, jogging down to the first floor and re-appearing up the stairs in a flash, carrying all of her remaining boxes up in one trip.
Jesus.
“Thank you for this, really.” She murmurs, shuffling down the hall to her door. She spares a quick sideways glance at Steve, who’s carrying four boxes at a time without so much as breaking a sweat. She’s barely keeping up with the smaller one in her arms, her bag hanging from her arm and her keys balanced precariously on top of the box.
When they reach apartment #3, she leans forward to set her things down, the keys slipping to the floor in the process.
“Shoot.” She mutters, face burning with embarrassment as she quickly bends down, but he’s quicker.
“I got it.”
And apparently superhuman power also mean superhuman reflexes, because he’s down at the floor picking up her keychain before she even has the chance to blink.
“… here.”
There’s a slight pause in his movements when he hands her back her keys, and when her eyes trail down to what’s in his hand, she immediately understands why.
A shiny Captain America shield keychain sticks out from the rest of the dull array of metal—the red, white, and blue plastic of honor hanging proudly from his fingertips.
It was a sick little joke played by the tiny group of people in her department that knew about her new gig—‘a good luck charm!’ Thomas had taunted. She had rolled her eyes, adding it to her keychain jokingly, and meant to take it off long before she was set to relocate to Brooklyn.
She feels her entire face burn a deep crimson as she tries to remain poker-faced, clearing her throat as she takes the keys from his hand and hastily shoves it through the door.
“Just… y-you can just set those down anywhere, thanks.”
She steps aside for Steve to walk in, gripping at the doorframe as she makes a mental note burn the keychain into next week, alongside Thomas and the rest of her coworkers.
By the time Steve sets down the last of her belongings in the middle of her empty living room, her cheeks are still flushed ripe with embarrassment.
“Thank you for your help, really.” She gives him a polite smile at the door, unable to make full eye contact.
“No worries, let me know if you need anything else.” He smiles, and she finds the tiniest piece of respite in noticing that if he had seen what was on her keychain (which was virtually inevitable given the circumstances), he didn’t seem at all bothered.
“… well, I’ll see you around Jess.” He smiles, giving her a small wave.
“Yeah, you too.” She nods, trying to conceal the tight lines around her lips. Steve steps back in the direction of his apartment, fishing out his keys from his pocket. She starts to turn around, fingers trembling with the details of her first encounter with Captain America, when she hears his voice calls out again from across the hall.
“Oh, I almost forgot…”
Shit, what?
When she turns back around, he’s leaned against the faded doorway of apartment #4, flashing her a charming smile—classic all-American, pearly-whites and all.
“…welcome to the building.”
Apartment #3 Masterlist
#captain america#steve rogers#mcu#mcu fic#marvel fic#marvel mcu#steve rogers fanfiction#captain america fanfiction#mcu fanfiction#steve rogers fic#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#reader insert#eventual fluff#eventual smut#eventual romance#fluff#light angst#neighbors au#friends to lovers#strangers to lovers
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Happy DADWC! Let's have some Thalia/Cullen, with "Reunion x Defying prophecies" from your Fun Trope Combos list!
Hi Duchess!! Perfect prompt for some post-Battle of Haven early Thalia/Cullen character study, I think.
Also had to add these prompts from @breninarthur and @wolfs-dawn:
For @dadrunkwriting
WC: 1289
---
Now that Lady Thalia Trevelyan had returned from the dead, Cullen did not know how to speak to her.
It had been easy at first. The scrappy red-haired mage had looked to him for guidance those months in Haven. Uncertain of the moniker bestowed upon her by the masses, she had peppered him with questions — about leadership, philosophy, religion, and listened with earnest fervor to what he had to say about them. She was young, certainly, but Cullen had every confidence she could grow into the role presented to her. Had been flattered, even, to mold her for command.
Then everything came crashing down, and Cullen, acting as her commander, sent Thalia off to die.
He replayed the moves of the battle through his head as the stragglers that called themselves the Inquisition trudged through snow and mountain. The days were brutal and the nights were worse, with ice winds howling down into the narrow rocky passes, and Cullen thought he might freeze a thousand times over. Only the rage boiling in his gut keep his blood pumping, as he ran the plays again and again. In chess, there were times when one must sacrifice a piece, even an important one, but the risks so often outweighed the reward. Try as he might, he didn’t see an outcome that saved her from destruction. He would have to live with that for the rest of his days.
Maker guide her, she went willingly.
The burden of the march had eased. The train moved with lighter steps, their Herald restored to them. They had a destination, a goal to picture in their minds. Still, Cullen found it difficult to approach her. It was he who had found her, on her knees in the snow. When her lips were blue, he cradled her fragile body to his chest, trying to bring some warmth back into her. He flushed with the memory, in turns frightened, relieved, and… something else.
Tonight, the cook fires burned brighter, it seemed, after the skies had cleared. He saw her, sitting on the cot in the healer’s tent, where her condition was being monitored, nose in a book. Her hair, auburn and incredibly long, she had coiled around her head in one long plait. She seemed stronger, the color starting to come back to her oval face. For days she had been white as the snow around them, offset only by the spiked tattoo ringing one eye. An extra security measure, Cullen had learned, devised by templars at the Ostwick Circle. It made him vaguely uneasy to behold, but he often found other parts of her face more pleasing — her bright blue eyes, for instance, or her heart-shaped lips.
She looked up and spied him, and Cullen’s heart thudded. She smiled at him shyly over the rim of the book, and his feet moved toward her of their own accord.
“Forgive the intrusion,” he said as he approached.
Thalia glanced around the empty tent and back to him. “Oh, Commander, as you can see, there’s nothing to intrude upon. I’m alone.”
“Yes, but you seemed so engrossed.” Cullen motioned to the book.
Thalia cleared her throat and set it aside. “Just something Mother Giselle lent me. I guess she was conscientious enough to salvage several books from the Chantry before the evacuation of Haven. I wish I’d had that level of foresight.”
Cullen glanced at the title. The Holy Mysteries of Andraste and Her Disciples. “Ah. I read that one in templar training.”
“You did?” Thalia’s pale gaze was upon him. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold wind. “What did you think of it?”
Cullen chuckled. “A touch… fanciful, perhaps.”
“What? You don’t believe the story of Saint Sylvester slaying the dragon on New Year’s Eve?” The corner of Thalia’s mouth quirked upward. It was nice to see her smile again.
“Some of the tales are apocryphal at best, if I recall,” Cullen said. Then, he blurted, “You look good.”
Thalia blinked in surprise.
“Better, I mean,” Cullen cried, backpedaling. “Healthier. When I saw you in the snow, I feared for the worst.”
Thalia ducked her head shyly. “Thank you. I didn’t mean to scare you then; I was just… very tired.”
“No need to apologize,” Cullen said quickly, leaning on the hilt of his sword to regain some dignity. “I’m just relieved to see you on the road to recovery.”
“After rising from the grave, you mean,” Thalia quipped.
Cullen felt sheepish. “I don’t really believe—”
“No, I know,” Thalia cut in, laughing nervously. “I already gave my report. It’s very unlikely I was truly dead at any point.” She sighed, glancing at the book. “I am not so sure that’s what the masses think. That’s why Mother Giselle lent me the book. She thought stories of other religious figures might… inspire me, I suppose.”
“And do they?” Cullen asked softly. He could sense the conflict in her, but didn’t want to push her in one direction or another. Being looked to for leadership was an immense, painful thing, whatever the reason.
Thalia shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re right, they sound like fictional characters, most of them. Do you think there’s truly been a secret Chantry in Par Vollen for centuries that no one has been able to find, run by an knight-errant Chantry mother?”
“I suppose stranger things have happened,” Cullen conceded, “but no, I found the accounts of Prester Johanna far-fetched, as well.”
“As far-fetched as being the Herald of Andraste,” Thalia huffed. “Is this how I’m going to be remembered in the history books? Some mythical figure no one can believe in?”
“I think that may depend on you,” Cullen said carefully. “We have ways of crafting the narrative around you, but your own deeds and decrees, how you treat others… that’s as telling as the rest.” He smiled in spite of himself. “I think so far, most have wanted to follow you because you give them something to believe in. Your compassion and drive inspire them. Tales of defying death, or slaying dragons, that may come later, but… it’s who you are that makes the most impact.”
Thalia was looking at him curiously as he spoke. Cullen cut himself off with an embarrassed sigh. “Forgive me, sometimes I do think I like to pontificate a touch too—”
“No, no, it’s all right. I like listening to you.” Thalia chewed her bottom lip and looked down. “Thank you, Commander. That’s good food for thought.”
“Right.” Why was Cullen’s heart thumping like that? She didn’t seem to think him a fool, though he certainly felt like one. “I’ll leave you to your convalescence.”
“You could stay, if you like,” Thalia suggested brightly. “I could read to you. Saint Sylvester was just about to team up with two elven apostates to fight the dragon terrorizing Vyrantium.”
Cullen hesitated. He had maps to pour over, losses to calculate, casualties to report to Knight-Captain Rylen. As of late, however, when it became difficult to concentrate, he dug through the trunk of his that had survived the Haven onslaught. He sat on the floor of his tent and, with trembling hands, contemplated the one vial of glowing cerulean that sang to him under tunics and greaves and letters from home. He’d been so parched lately, and no amount of mountain fresh ice water could quench it.
“You’re busy,” Thalia decided, before he could answer. “I understand.”
Cullen swallowed thickly. “Sometime soon, perhaps. Once we’ve reached this castle Solas has promised us.”
“Of course.” The book was back in her lap, her eyes straying from his. “Have a good night, Commander.”
“Yes.” He stifled a sigh, turning to leave. He felt more stupid than ever. “You as well, Lady Thalia.”
#thalia trevelyan#cullen rutherford#cullen x trevelyan#dragon age drunk writing circle#they're so awkward lol#and nerdy#fics#def need the side quest where they go to par vollen to look for prester johanna tho lmao
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"Chiaki Nanami, you have been assigned a new mission. You will reside in the designated area and search for survivors, and provide them with safety until we can come gather them. We will send Makoto Naegi and Kyoko Kirigiri to accompany you. As their senior, we expect you to guide them. You will stay in the area indefinitely. Suitable apartments have been located and prepared for your stay. Good luck out there."
Chiaki looked at the message as she, alongside Makoto and Kyoko, were about to arrive at their new apartments. She was glad to get another relatively easy-going mission, but she was concerned about being accompanied by others. It'll be harder to hide that I'm looking for the Remnants on my own... Kirigiri-san especially will definitely notice. I just hope they'll understand...
She thought back to the file Ryota sent her the other day. The area she was overlooking was the same as the one the Remnants were supposedly gathering towards. I hope I can find Kamukura-kun or Komaeda-kun quickly... There's no telling when they'll all arrive or how long they'll take to start whatever they're planning. I can't afford to take my time with this.
"...Um, Nanami-san? We're here." Makoto's words made her realize she'd spaced out. "...Oh, cool. We're finally here." Finally stepping out of the car, she held tight to her backpack and joined Makoto and Kyoko in walking up to the apartments. "...So, what apartment number did you get? I got 106."
"Oh, I got 308."
"I got 309."
"...Oh, you're neighbours. Cool." Chiaki got the feeling there was a certain intent behind rooming them so close together. "...Hey hey, it's just gonna be us in the building, right? Why'd they feel the need to choose the apartments for us? We could've just picked ourselves." At Chiaki's questioning, Kyoko crossed her arms and seemed to think for a second. "If I had to quess, I'd say it's to monitor us more easily. If they where to check up on us, they wouldn't have to go through every apartment in search for us."
"...They could just ask then. Did they even check the apartments beforehand? What if mine has a broken toilet? That would be a pain." She knew she was just being petulant by now, but she really wanted to choose her apartment herself. Maybe I'll just use another apartment anyway. The keys are all in here anyway, so it's not like it matters. Hmph.
Pouting all the way inside, she picked up the key to apartment 104. ...And the key to 106 as well. She could at least check it out. Maybe she'll break a mirror or something as an excuse for why she went to another one. She waved to Makoto and Kyoko as they made their way upstairs to their own apartments. First, she went to 106 to completely innocently check it out. She just broke the mirror by accident is all. If anyone asks, it was always like this.
After that was dealt with, she went to apartment 104 and immediately noticed it was in much better condition than 106. I guess people are still wary of 4's even in the apocalypse... That's people for you, I guess. ...Maybe Komaeda-kun will try to stay in this room since he's called 'God of Death' and all. If he does, that makes my chance of meeting him much higher. She went into each of the rooms to check if they were all in working order, and aside from the lack of chairs, the apartment looked to be fine.
Chiaki was tired from the long drive over and walked into the bedroom only to immediately flop down onto the bed. Soft...
Before she could fully fall asleep, she heard a knock on her door. When she went and opened it, she found Makoto and Kyoko on the other side. "...Oh, hello... Come in..." She opened the door for them and they all went and sat on the couch. "I noticed you went into a different apartment than assigned. Trying to rebel?" Kyoko started with an easy smile. "If you're wondering how I knew which you picked, I saw you take the key."
"...Oh, you did. I should've expected that."
"You really wanted to pick your own apartment, huh?"
"...I picked it just in case the one I was assigned had something wrong with it. 106 has a broken bathroom mirror. That's gonna be annoying."
"Oh, really? Because I heard the sound of glass breaking when I was checking the neighbouring apartments." Oops. She caught me. "...You checked the apartments?" I guess it'd be a good idea to do that. "Yes. There could be something useful hidden in one of the apartments. And, there's the chance someone's laying in wait for the chance to attack us. The apartments are all locked, but it wasn't difficult to lockpick them. If someone was cunning enough to try and ambush us, they'd surely be able to pick a measly lock like this. And, since the doors all lock from the inside without a key, they wouldn't have any issue locking it once inside either."
"There wasn't anything of note inside the first floor apartments though... Well, aside from the recently broken mirror, I guess." ...My bad. "We decided to check yours last. Have you noticed anything odd?"
"...Other then the fact there's no chairs here, no. Everything looks fine... I think. But I also didn't look around that deeply, so I might've missed something." She was really curious about the lack of chairs, thought. Maybe I'll steal some from 106. "We'll take a look around, then."
"...Okay. I'm gonna take a nap. I'm sleepy..."
"Haha, of course. We'll try to be quiet, so have a good nap, Nanami-san!" Kyoko responded with something about having to check the bedroom eventually too, but Chiaki was too busy heading over to the bed for her nap to listen.
She'll probably just sleep through it, anyway.
#i love kyokos ff look tbh#chiaki nanami#kyoko kirigiri#makoto naegi#remnant searcher chiaki au#danganronpa#super danganronpa 2#sdr2#danganronpa 3#dr3#art#my art#xanders art#xanders haunting art#digital art#fan art#fic#fanfic#fanfiction
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Hey guys? Guess what? STORY TIME BITCHES- YAAHAHAHAHHAAHAAAAA
- some muts ocs
- drama bomb reveal
- I’m either high from being sick or just insane
- hehehehe new art go brrrrrrr hehehehehe
- Idia: I feel like some bullshit gonna happen
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Today was family day, it was a beautiful evening. Everyone gathered around, the world was brimming. Though. There was an odd hunch awaiting.
“Awww man…..” cursed a firey hair boy. Looking at his phone to the texts of his parents. “Bailed in just an hour in. Great…..” he mumbled. “Oh don’t worry big bro! It was an hour this time!” Cheered a robot child. “Yeah yeah, I know Ortho. I just wished they didn’t bail at the moment.” Said Idia. The eldest look at the text again, ‘we came what we wanted. Sry! Love and kisses’ - Mom. Idia thought of something out if it, “what does that mean?…..” he mumbled. With Ortho zooming off.
The prefects were in Ramshackle group table. Chatting away, with Yuu passing Freya a new sketchbook for designing, Estella playing a new tune, and Isabelle reading away. That’s when Crowley stopped by, “oh look guys. It’s the dead crow.” Giggled Minako. “Not the time. Prefects- I mean. Anyone. Has any of you seen Darling?” He asked. “Birdie? No. I saw her once inside the school.” Said Estella. Everyone had gave a simple short no. No one had seen her. “Strange…. It’s not like her to be wondering off….” The man had a look of worry. The man had checked up on his radar that the girl was on campus. He was sure of it. But he felt dread carry him. Then he get a rock bonk him, “ow!!!” He shouted. “You didn’t heard me.” Said Minako. “So throw- forget it.” He left in a huff. “….. did no one saw her?” Everyone shook their heads and gave their response.
Cater was with them, glancing up. “Oh. I saw her earlier. Chatting with the two uhhh. Helmet weirdos. Walked to the garden area.” Freya glanced over. “And you didn’t bother bringing it up?” “I was mainstreaming. didnt heard the first part sheesh-" but the boy was interrupted, grabbed by the collar by a panicking older shroud brother. “Helmets?? Helmets?!” He shouted. “Were there a blue and pink one???” Cater was surprised. Scared. “Y-yeah! Even some robots! Why?!” Idia froze. All eyes were on him. All eyes…. He knew what they came for. “Crowley!!!” The boy leap over the prefects table and slid off. Racing to the headmage. The group looked at each other, and followed in pursuit. Idia was racing around, looking for Crowley. Only to find the man standing in the garden. Holding a murky coated chip. “Where’s my child….?” The man asked. Idia gulped, trying to lower the situation that is escalating slowly. “I know this is going to sound bad….. I know but….” “Shroud…. Where…. Is….” Crowley voice deepen. Filled with malice and rage. “My…. CHILD?!” Idia and the prefect groups drop. “She’s at the Isle of Lamentation! She’s at the isle! She’s in S.T.Y.X FOR THE LOVE OF SEVENS SHE’S IN S.T.Y.X’S!”
Crowley stopped himself, “what?…..” he mumbled. “Look! I know that sounds bad! Don’t freak out-“ “freak out? freak OUT?! MY DAUGHTER IS MISSING SHROUD!!!!” He shouted, his mask fell, revealing an inky substance trailing down the man face. “I suggest….. you take us there…. NOW!” Idia had to do a time out with his hands. “Okay! Time out! TIME OUT-“
- I’m not gonna type some shit but everyone is at STYX-
The couple were talking, fascinated by the girl appearance. “See that? The pulse grew exactly like a normal-” the doors slam open. Revealing the headmage, prefects, or some who stayed behind to calm the school. And the shroud brothers. “I believe you have my daughter….” Said the tall fellow. His eyes gleaming with a violent intent. “Oh good. You’re here. We can break this to you.” Said the man in the blue helmet. “Tell me? Tell me what???” Shouted Crowley. The woman fiddled with the holographic system. Revealing the monitor. “See for yourself…” she said. Stepping aside as the group wonder. And the shock cursed their hearts.
Standing alone in the room. Was their friend. Or.
What was even is her…..
Her hair now an inky substance, her eyes a darker shade of a violet blue. And her skin, pale then her own. She looked. Disappointed. “I guess the cats out of the bag now….” She held her hands up high. “Oi…. I was going to tell them…. Eventually….”
The shroud parents responded. “A phantom hybrid…. Can you believe it? We didn’t respond to that distress signal with her overblot but you see this?” As the man pulled a chart. Everything was erratic. “You don’t see this on a phantom. We seen many. But this…. Just never once….” The woman played some recording. And suddenly Darling screeched out a howl, it wasn’t even human at all. More like a monstrous combination of a raven. The woman ceased the sound. And Darlinv immediately changed her figure. Walking around so empty like. “Shame you have to find out like this….. I too be devastes if this happened to me.” The adult Shroud male replied. “It took a moment to capture her. But I must say…. It’s impressive how well she can act.”
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Imma end this shit here but I’m so content hahahaaha
@adrianasunderworld @mangacupcake @writing-heiress @the-weirdos-mind @skboba-stars @nproduction626 @rose-tea-and-strawberries @anxious-twisted-vampire @rose-tea-and-strawberries @yukii0nna @achy-boo @abyssthing198
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland oc#marron ocs#twst oc#twst#darling crowley#muts oc#Idia Shroud#Cater Diamond#Ortho Shroud#Dire Crowley#I’m fucking everyone up#hehehe my brain go brrrrrr
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STAR TREK ( 2009 )
change pronouns as needed.
we have visual.
are you seeing this?
there is no help for us out here.
get off this ship.
do you know the location of ________?
where are you from?
do exactly as i say.
just keep breathing, you'll be fine.
i can't do this without you.
hey, are you out of your mind?
is there a problem, officer?
i presume you've prepared new insults for today.
they called you a traitor.
logic offers a serenity humans seldom experience.
come here, let me see you.
there's no need to be anxious.
fine has various applications, fine is unacceptable.
you have surpassed the expectations of your instructors.
it was logical to cultivate multiple options.
it's truly remarkable that you have achieved so much despite your disadvantage.
that's a lot of drinks for one woman.
don't you at least want to know my name before you completely reject one?
this townie isn't bothering you, right?
relax, cupcake.
it was a joke.
you all right?
you can whistle really loud.
i don't need a doctor, damn it, i am a doctor!
i may throw up on you.
one tiny crack in the hull and our blood will boil in 13 seconds.
i got nowhere else to go.
you've been requested on the bridge.
why are you so happy?
i think i love you.
that is so weird.
i'm doing you a favor.
i couldn't just leave you there looking all pathetic.
a little suffering's good for the soul.
i wish i didn't know you.
don't be such an infant.
may i have your attention, please?
how do you feel?
we're flying into a trap!
i think you've had enough attention for today.
i do not believe that you and i are acquainted.
your survival is unlikely.
the complexities of human pranks escape me.
i guess you have to come and get me.
how long do they have?
are you nuts?
we must evacuate.
what do you need?
tell me.
i need everyone to continue performing admirably.
you must have a lot of questions for me.
we have nothing left to discuss.
are you actually suggesting they're from the future?
the logical thing is to be unpredictable.
don't do that.
you gotta be kidding me.
how did you find me?
how do you know my name?
you hate me.
you are not the captain?
it will be easier.
so you do feel.
you could at least act like it was a hard decision.
you realize how unacceptable this is?
you don't eat anything!
how do you think i wound up here?
i do feel guilty about that.
do they still have sandwiches there?
you're coming with us, right?
under no circumstances can he be made aware of my existence.
i am emotionally compromised.
let's get this over with.
a trick i learned from an old friend.
i'm not telling.
i'd rather not take sides.
i will not allow you to lecture me about the merits of emotion.
you feel nothing!
you never loved her.
i am no longer fit for duty.
i like this ship!
thanks for the support.
i sure hope you know what you're doing.
either we're going down, or they are.
what is necessary is never unwise.
i am as conflicted as i once was as a child.
i would cite regulation, but i know you will simply ignore it.
i'll be monitoring your frequency.
i have no comment on the matter.
i'lll cover you.
do you know where it is?
wow, that's weird.
it appears that you have been keeping important information from me.
i knew i should have killed you when i had the chance.
your species is even weaker than i expected.
you can't even speak.
i got your gun.
what are you doing here?
just following orders.
i would rather die in agony than accept assistance from you.
we cannot afford to ignore each other.
do yourself a favor.
put aside logic, do what feels right.
it is my honor to award you with this commendation.
your father would be proud.
i can provide character references.
#star trek sentence meme#star trek rp prompts#star trek rp meme#rp sentence starters#rp sentence memes#rp sentence prompts#sentence prompts#sentence memes#sentence starters
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Likely newbie to cigarettes from Turkey, but B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L!
NEW SERIES!
THE VIDEO OF THE WEEK
(HONORABLE MENTION)
OUR INTRODUCTORY POST!
For the Week of 082723-090223
★ ★ ★ ★ ☆ | Four-and-a-Half "Stars"
From vs120shound staff | ★★★★★ (L)
She's a mighty fine-looking young woman wouldn't you say, although nowhere near the voluptuous classification . . . and still shy of her 20th birthday, we'd gather! We don't have her name, just that a video of her was posted on the YouTube webpage "Sebas" close to two weeks ago (see below). On Smoking Fetish Kingdom, master uploader user0726 posted this video, which you see directly above, on August 20, 2023 and that was quite soon after the YT posting.
She is quite gorgeous, almost breathtaking -- here eyes are golden, though not in color, and she's got a dreamy smile -- her beauty truly radiates. But she is not a great smoker. The educated guess is that she is relatively new to the habit or has just graduated from "trying it out" to becoming a social smoker, rarely buying packs yet gradually building in number of cigarettes smoked per day. She is in the phase of becoming comfortable with cigarettes, beginning to enjoy the taste and to appreciate the rituals associated with the habit. Yet she might not be addicted. Developing a regular habit is the goal but she's smart enough not to rush it. One cigarette at a time.
Our beautiful mystery teenager shows signs of being a beginning-stage smoker. In this five-minute video, she takes 7 drags, which is not a lot. It is a 100s or 120s in length, so she gets credit for not trying to be a "minimalist" smoker right off the bat. Her drags are shallow, her exhales thin and weak. Does not hold it enough. Many veteran smokers are so adroit with it and accustomed to the cigarette being held between their fingers that they can accomplish many tasks that would require full use of their cigarette-holding hand. Not her. In an ashtray without the smoke flowing into her face, body and clothes. She's also more interested in her tea -- yeah, fine, the color of the beverage can also indicate apple juice but let's be real here -- than her cigarette. All's good. No worries. No problem. We might or might not see how her habit unfolds. We cannot control that. She might return once or twice to the World Wide Web, or never again. Could be a one-and-done'r . . . or in six months time every person afflicted with SF north of Ankara or Istanbul might have her named tattooed on their brains. Could become a mainstay on YouTube, if she isn't already on Bigo Live!
There is room for her to grow within the Greater SF World Community. Will be fun trying to monitor her progress!
This video in its original Internet state, posted on the "Sebas" webpage on YouTube in the third week of August . . .
youtube
THE NEW SERIES
The Particulars . . .
Once a week. Two divisions. Calendar week, so our next publishing of it could appear as early as Sunday, September 3, 2023. With the next after that -- the third overall -- perhaps as late as Saturday, September 16, 2023. Not every 7 days. Once in a calendar week, which, of course, is 7 days, with the next during the following 7 days, or the next Sunday-through-Saturday week.
First division -- not this one -- the main one, the Hall of Fame (HoF), reserved for the elite SF videos of all-time. Top-100. There is no list. Second division -- this one here -- the secondary one, the Honorable Mention, reserved for "good" SF videos but which contain flaws. The flaw in this post? Weak smoking. Period. These videos could be -- aside from flawed in some way or ways -- brief, poor production values, controversial, quirky, unique, risqué, avant-garde, compelling, ground-breaking, iconic, historic. Different. Not that which would be associated with the Greatest Ever SF Videos tag.
We ask that it be interactive. If there's a video you'd like to see affiliated with this project/series, give a holler. By tumblr chat or by tumblr e-mail. Both can be effective tools on our platform. No guarantees of immediate processing into the rotation but every consideration will be given to any and all requests. Of that, you can be assured. We do this for our entertainment but we take pride in knowing that so many of you SF buffs out there can appreciate the effort we put into our four blogs/vlogs/webpages. So, we want to connect with you -- some of you -- for your input to make this an interactive collaborative endeavor. We cannot read minds; please reach out with a suggestion. If we reject a request for inclusion, we will let you know why and you'll learn soon. We can have dialogue about it. Conversation by phone, highly, highly unlikely. You'll succeed and convince us to rescind our rejection or we will stick to our denial of access and inclusion.
We hope you will enjoy this series. Video of The Day had been suggested but was rejected out of hand. Once a week -- once every 7 days or twice every 13 days if it falls on a posting on a Sunday and the next on the following Saturday, 13 days later -- is much more manageable, we feel.
Later on August 31 or early on September 1, will be the release of THE VIDEO OF THE WEEK | HALL OF FAME. It will feature Skittlez Cano. She IS smoking in this clip, as in being the sole and anointed representative of all smokers and their love of the habit; Skittlez and the cigarette become one, a merging, that's how much it shows how she was meant to be a sexy smoker. Funky soundtrack, too. Enought for now.
Hope you follow THE VIDEOS OF THE WEEK. We're sure you'll enjoy. And if you do not become a fan, it will be your fault to some degree for not seeing it on our brand because no request by you was offered to us. And, yes, VOTW will have a VOTW Hall of Fame and a VOTW Honorable Mention each every seven days. Double your pleasure. Let it roll . . . !
#SF#Hot women who love smoking cigarettes#Smoking cigarettes#Smoking#The Video of The Week (Honorable Mention)!#The Video of The Week (HoF) . . . Hall of Fame!
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