Tumgik
#but my new job is honestly killing me and all i want to do is sleep
marvelstars · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media
So I was thinking about a post I saw a while ago and it made me realize that I believe it didn´t really occur to Anakin that Padme was too young as a 14 year old Queen because he was a 9 year old slave and already making adult decisions, like:
Sure, I will risk my life to give you the ship parts you need new friends.
I will sacrifice the pod I built with many sacrifices that I wanted to use to escape with my Mom once I got her and my slave chip out of her body with my self made slave chip detector.
I know exactly how to cheat on my owner, I have know him all my life actually and he loves gambling.
Sebulba, leave Jar Jar alone, you could kill me instead but then you would have to pay for me so go away.
I built a droid to help Mom around the house and I am also looking after grandma Jira here, fixing her things so the heat doesn´t get too much for her.
Do you need the droid army that is invading Naboo stopped? No problem, I will just destroy their main star chip and I didn´t even get out of place as Master Qui-Gon Sir asked me to.
Then Anakin became a padawan and was send to missions in which he had to use his lightsaber to get out of "negotiations"
So of course he defended Padme being a Queen at 14, to him her words about being happy for being relieved of so much responsibility sounded as if she thought she was doing a bad job with her planet, that´s why he told her he heard people were so pleased with her they wanted to keep her more time as their Queen. He thought she was selling herself short.
I believe the whole, "too young to be doing this" only beat Anakin in the face when he was send Ahsoka in the middle of a war zone.
I mean, he called her a "youngling" not even a padawan, he most definitely didn´t want to be training a 14 year old youngling in the middle of a war zone and he only accepted because he saw how sad Ahsoka looked when she thought he didn´t want her.
Ahsoka just had to invoke a little bit of tears and she already had him grapped around her little finger.
Anakin: Sure I am supposed to be your Jedi master and you should call me master but we are in the middle of a war zone, we both could die tomorrow, your situation sucks Snips and you are too young yet to notice it so of course you may call me skyguy to your heart content.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
He is actually worse with Luke, honestly, it didn´t matter to him his little boy already destroyed the death star in ANH and his Master was calling for his head because he could become a Jedi and try to kill both of them, to Vader he was just "a boy"
Tumblr media
In ESB Vader was at the parenting stage of thinking about Luke like, that´s my baby, nobody can touch him or his friends until I say so ok?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
So he can recognize when someone was too young to be send to war, slavery or fight his Sith Master and he was right most of the time, except when it´s about himself and his perfect Queen Padme, they were veteran kids just doing their jobs.
Love him honestly :D
36 notes · View notes
dahliadrawthings · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
i'm not sure i'm back but i try very hard to get over my artblock
say hi to minjo.
95 notes · View notes
scringee · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
This is the only way to express how I'm feeling
#i try not to talk about my home life on here but im honestly so fucking frustrated that if i dont get this out i might just kill someone#my family car broke down in January of this year#my father refuses to get a new one because he thinks hes saving so mucj more money and he doesnt feel like he has any incentive#acting as if he was giving us free trips#i would literally pay him 100 dollars a fucking week to help take me in and out of work#and he just doesnt like acknowledge that at all#so now im having to take ubers to and from work every day. each trip is like 20+ dollars so that 40+ dollars a day five days a week#im averaging spending 200 dollars a week jusy to get into work#and i work a minimum wage shitty fucking job so all of my paycheck goes straight into ubers and fucking therapy every week#ive had to skip so many sessions becaause theyre all 50 dollars after insurance#and im just so frustrated#i want to move out so bad but how can i save enough if im constantly hemorrhaging cash#the only reason hes saving money is because he fucking works from home#i just dont know what to do at this point i feel so helpless#becayse even if hou casually bring it up my dad immediately assumes youre ATTACKING him and how DARE you and im tited im so fucking tired#how am i meant to move out in these conditions#how am i meant to do anything#i have no fucking social life because i literally just cant afford it im going to cry#i hate him. i hate my dad so fucking much#vent#ig.#scringee mouth
2 notes · View notes
breadbrobin · 4 months
Text
“doc”
luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians
Tumblr media
[child of apollo reader, should be gender neutral]
i tried to write a summary but it sucked so: reader is a child of apollo and luke is always hanging around the infirmary with a new injury. you hate it (do you really?)
(this got so out of hand but im so obsessed with luke castellan rn it’s not even funny. like. help.)
warning: like one or two swear words, mentions of injuries and illness, fluff i think
word count: 1.2k
____________________
you’d never been a fan of luke castellan. you knew it, he knew it—hell, everyone at camp knew it.
but a little unfriendliness never stopped him.
children of apollo were meant to be warm and kind all the time, but you’d rather die before being happy-go-lucky all the time like your siblings. you’d rather do your job: healing the campers who injured themselves throughout the days at camp. you’d also rather those campers not include luke castellan for once, but not all wishes can come true.
scarcely a day could pass by without luke coming into the infirmary, or coming up to you elsewhere in camp if you weren’t there, with a minor injury that he insisted needed healing immediately.
“i just don’t think i can continue kayaking with a sprained ankle, y/n.”
“what if it was your knees you skinned? wouldn’t you want to get them healed so you could get back to arts and crafts?”
“if my cut finger isn’t healed as soon as possible i’ll have to sit capture the flag out tomorrow! yes, i know it’s a paper cut. that’s not the point!”
he really was ridiculous.
either way, you had to heal him, technically. at your heart, you were a good person. on the surface, you wanted to punch him. give him something to really cry about.
“y/n, your boyfriend’s here again.” one of your sisters, cassidy, called out to you as you checked the stock of bandaids.
you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to correct her. “what this time?”
“i just have the worst headache, doc. it’s killing me.” luke said dramatically, holding his forehead. the small grin on his face didn’t support his statement at all.
you turned around, eyes wide and face serious, but trying not to smirk. “oh no, you might have meningitis! if it’s the worst headache of your life, we should get to you a hospital so they can do a spinal tap and run some tests.”
the grin on his face faltered as you pulled him to a seat. “uh—“
“lie down. don’t move. i’m going to get chiron.”
he gripped your arm. “no, wait, i think—“
“you’ll be fine?” you turned around with raised brows. “yeah, thought so. drink some water, castellan.”
“but—“
“what? you won’t be able to do sword fighting practise with a headache? big deal.”
“y/n—“
“you need to stop coming in here every time you get bored. we’re not an entertainment space.”
“but, i really do have a headache. like. a migraine.”
you stopped and turned back around, dropping the bandages you had been organising. “oh. shit, i’m sorry. hold on.”
cursing yourself internally, you rushed off to get nectar to hopefully help, along with some painkillers and a bottle of chilled water. when you came back, luke was lying on the bed, eyes closed.
“you okay, soldier?” you patted his shoulder gently.
he cracked one eye open and nodded. “kind of.”
you gently pulled him to sit up. “come on. gotta get some meds in you. eat any food today? drink enough water?”
he shook his head as he sipped the nectar, his eyes squinted. “got busy.”
you shot him a disapproving look and he smiled guiltily. “you need to eat or you’ll die. do you want to die?”
he looked up at you with furrowed brows. “you don’t have a very good bedside manner, you know?”
“then why do you keep coming back here?” you went back to organising bandages, busying your hands.
“i like my doctors prettier than they are kind, honestly.”
you froze your movements and looked over at him. luke was smiling slightly. your cheeks weren’t turning red, you told yourself. they weren’t allowed to. “whatever,” you finally said. “take your meds, drink all of that water—sip it, don’t chug—then get some sleep, alright?”
he nodded, taking a sip of the water. “yes, doc. got it.”
you nodded at him firmly and walked off once he’d taken the painkillers, hoping he couldn’t see right through you.
luke hadn’t been to the infirmary in a week, and you were genuinely starting to get concerned.
every free moment you got, you were staring at the door, or out the window, waiting for him to come in with some stupid injury and even more stupid excuse. but he didn’t.
after watching you pace for the seventh time in one morning, cassidy groaned. “just go find him.”
“i’m sure he’s fine.” you said, wringing your hands. “i mean, he’s probably just busy.”
“just go. you’re stressing me out. i can’t get anything done with you filling the room with your nervous energy. go find your boyfriend.”
“luke’s not my boyfriend.”
“i never said who it was.”
“well, it was pretty obvious—“
“just go!” she threw a bandage at your head, effectively forcing you out the door.
you didn’t even know where he was.
camp was huge, so it took you around twenty minutes to find him, he sun glaring into your eyes and likely burning your cheeks. regardless, you were on a mission. finally, you spotted him in the arena. of course.
you watched for a while until he noticed you, standing in the shade with your eyes squinted in the sun and your arms crossed over your chest. he grinned and jogged over.
“hey, doc. what brings you here?” he asked, sheathing his sword.
your eyes followed the precise movement. “why haven’t you been to the infirmary?”
he shrugged. “i haven’t been injured.”
“didn’t stop you before.”
there was a silence.
then he smiled again. “did you miss me?”
your cheeks burned. “no!” you cleared your through awkwardly. “i just… i get… bored. and you… keep the monotony away.”
“you missed me.”
“i did not miss you.”
he leaned closer, rocking back and forth on his feet. “you missed me.”
you glared up at him, but couldn’t fight the tiny smile that forced itself on your lips. you shook your head, pressing your lips together tightly. “nope. didn’t miss you.”
“well,” he shrugged. “guess i don’t need to tell you that i did actually just hurt my hand while training, huh?”
you frowned. “are you aware that consuming as much nectar and ambrosia as you seem to want to will cause you to burn to a crisp?”
“i don’t need godly food if i have you as my doctor.” he smiled cheekily, clenching his fist then wincing. “seriously, though. it hurts.”
“aw, poor baby.” you pouted, leaning forward and placing your hand on his and trying to feel if there was any injury present.
before you could do anything, his fingers had interlocked with yours and he was stepping closer to you.
you looked up at him, heart pounding and cheeks burning. “what are you—“
“i don’t know what we can do for a date around here, but i’d love to take you on one, doc.” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
you froze, heart fluttering. butterflies danced in your stomach. you found yourself nodding before you could stop yourself, smiling. “okay. yeah. take me on a date, soldier.”
“yeah?” he smiled, squeezing your hand. “great! i’ve been trying to work up the guts to ask you for weeks now. also, can i kiss you?”
“i’ve been trying to pretend i didn’t want you to ask me for weeks.” you said, stepping slightly closer to him. “also… yes.”
his free hand cupped your cheek and his lips pressed to yours, soft and sweet.
you wondered why you ever said you didn’t like him.
2K notes · View notes
daemour · 15 days
Text
Tumblr media
Pairing: roommate! San x f! yn
Word Count: 10,664
Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut
Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, f2l au, college au, M for mature audiences
Summary: As the resident fuckboy San's best friend, you're legally obligated to be his hype man. It's only fitting as you're one of the few who can resist his boyish charms. But when he's set his sights on someone you cannot stand, perhaps you need to dig a bit deeper into your feelings after all.
Smut Warnings: masturbation (f), voyeurism, sexual fantasies, oral (f), missionary, protected sex, very slight breast play, overstimulation, cowgirl, some cumplay, dirty dirty talk, fingering, slight body worship ig?, praise, I literally have no idea I wrote it at a time when I should've been in bed so lmk if I missed anything
-
this is for the jackson wang party fic collab finished with @mingsolo (hella good) @flurrys-creativity (Pygalgia, Effervescent, and Abience) and @sanjoongie (trouble) <3 I still have one more to go but we'll ignore that LMAOOOOO I added too much plot :') flurry was a dear and helped me sort out my thoughts and I managed to write 8k of it in one day lol.
hope u all enjoy and sorry I'm a professional yapper there's no shutting me up
Tumblr media
“Going out again?” you ask your best friend and flatmate, San, as he walks past where you’re seated at the kitchen counter, suffering through your essays.
“Yep,” San answers easily, popping the ‘p’ and leaning over to take a peek at your laptop screen. “You misspelt ‘dextrorotatory’, you wrote it as ‘dexrotatory’.”
As your eyes find the typo, you groan and plant your head on the table. “I give up,” you declare dramatically, “I’ll drop out and become a taxi driver.”
San laughs. “First of all, you can’t drive that well. Second of all, you’d make more money as a stripper.” He dodges your smack with ease. “Third, you’re smart and you’ll ace these like always. You’re just a little mentally constipated. Why don’t you join me tonight?”
You think about it for a minute. While you probably do need a break from staring at your laptop, you know how wild the parties San goes to can get from personal experience. And you don’t think it’s a good idea when it's the end of your semester and the final year of your master's program. You just can’t afford to do that. “I’ll pass this time,” you sigh. “Maybe after exam season.”
San hums. “All right. Make sure to take a break, though,” he reminds you, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. “See you later.”
He soon disappears out of the door and you turn your focus away from your best friend to your homework. You feel bad for whoever his new conquest will be at the party.
In your opinion, it’s best to keep San at arm’s length when it comes to a romantic relationship. Not that you like him, but you also don’t want to be another notch on his bedpost, and you most certainly do not want to ruin your eight-year-long friendship. It’s not hard to see that San isn’t interested in a long relationship, not right now at least.
You honestly find it amusing that so many girls and guys still throw themselves at him and then get upset when he doesn’t give them a second glance after the initial night. His reputation precedes him, especially in your small town, and yet there will always be a line out the door for him. You don’t even know how he knows so many people.
With a sigh, you clear out your thoughts and refocus on your organic chemistry work. You’re lucky your job offered to pay for your master's classes, but the workload is killing you inside. You’re incredibly happy you’re almost done, and with newfound motivation, you hunker down and start writing out your notes again.
It’s almost two in the morning when you finally yawn and start putting your books away, and it’s almost three when you hear the front door open and the sound of San stumbling into the shoe rack as he always does. “You’re home already, Sanah?”
“YN!” San stumbles his way into the bathroom where you’re combing your hair, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his flushed face into your neck. “You’re still up?”
You laugh, tapping him on the head with your brush. “Yes, but I’m about to go to bed. And you should too, you know.”
San groans, his hold on your waist tightening and his words slurring together. “I don’t wanna,” he whines, “the bed's too cold.”
You sigh fondly. This happens almost every time he drinks, and usually, that’s why he doesn’t drink too much when he’s by himself. He gets too cuddly with people and you’re usually the one to keep him from bedding everyone he sees.  You suppose he somehow didn’t end up with anyone in bed and he’s disappointed now. “Do you think you’ll ever ask to sleep with me nicely, or will you just settle for wrestle-cuddling me into my own bed?” you ask, rolling your eyes as San does not answer, just pulling you towards your room. “There’s my answer.”
You’re too used to his drunk antics and just let him move you around. It’s comforting in a way, that he’s comfortable enough around you to do this with you, and it makes your heart warm whenever he throws his arm around you and presses his face in your neck.
You’d never admit it, but it’s nights like this when you sleep the best. With his warm breath tickling your neck, you let your body relax and your eyes flutter shut.
-
“God, I’ve got a raging headache,” San groans when he sees you enter the kitchen with a mess of bed hair. “I went so crazy with the soju last night, I think I’m going to die.”
You laugh, reaching for the pot to make some oatmeal for him. “Don’t be so dramatic. Why did you even drink so much anyway? No bitches?”
San snorts but immediately whines from the sharp pain that probably shot through his skull. “You’re so mean to me! No, I got no bitches, but that was from my own choice anyway. I don’t want to fuck around anymore.”
Both your eyebrows raise into your hairline. “No? What changed things, hm? Finally decided your one true love is Byeol?” As if on cue, your shared cat meows and curls around your ankles, and you bend down to scratch behind her ears.
“Never had to decide that, we all know she’s the real number one in my life. No, I think I’m interested in someone.” You stop your petting of Byeol, who meows in protest and runs off to pout somewhere. “Come on, don’t act like you just saw a ghost.”
“Who?” is the only question that comes out of your mouth. Of course, San has had a crush before, but he’s never stopped screwing around unless he was actively dating that person. He’s a fuckboy, but he’s not a piece of shit at least. This is new.
“Lee Yeseul. I met her yesterday at the party, and she’s so sweet. She was so out of place at the party, and not in a mean way. She just…has such an aura around her.” San’s voice is soft even just talking about her and you get the feeling he’s being serious. “We’re meeting up for coffee today.”
“That’s…amazing, Sanah. I really hope it goes well for you,” you smile at him, pushing a bowl of oatmeal over to him. “Don’t forget to let me make a speech at your wedding.”
San chuckles, rolling his eyes at your jokes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have study group today? Go there and stop bothering me.”
You ruffle his messy hair before planting a kiss on it and pinching his cheek. He blindly reaches around to smack at you but you dodge him easily, laughing as you head out to grab your keys. “See you later, Sanah. Have a good da-ate.”
San grumbles at you but ultimately returns to his food. You think you can hear him muttering about you being a pain in the ass and you smile to yourself. You don’t have the heart to tell him you know Lee Yeseul…and she’s a major bitch. You sincerely hope she’s sweet to San at least—he deserves the best. But you find her absolutely draining, especially with how often she talks about herself and doesn’t pay attention to anyone else ever. If she cries in your class one more time you think you might smack her yourself.
You still remember the time you had gotten a call that your grandfather had died, and after overhearing your conversation, instead of comforting you, she started talking about how “so many of my family members died in the past ten years.” Sure, maybe she was trying, but you’ve known about her antics enough that it was clear she just wanted to make it about her.
But if San likes her, who are you to interfere? He has a pretty good eye for who has a good personality so maybe Yeseul has changed. You’re not one to stop him. Not that you ever could. When he first started going out to party, you would tag along to make sure he wouldn’t make any bad decisions, but your efforts seldom paid off. You’re pretty sure he must be blessed since he somehow hadn’t pissed off anyone majorly enough to have them call a hit on him.
Shaking your head, you rid yourself of these thoughts and go to the library. There’s no use dwelling on it, the more you think about it, the worse your feeling about his crush on Yeseul gets. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t need you to parent him.
“Woah, who pissed in your cereal?” You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to hide your bad mood from your study buddy, Hongjoong. Although you only see him for studying, you’re confident enough to call him your closest friend other than San. “Are you okay?”
You sigh, dropping your books on the table. It earns you a harsh ‘shh’ from the librarian which you apologise half-heartedly for. “Do you remember Yeseul? Lee Yeseul?”
Hongjoong’s brows raise high into his hairline. “The professional bitcher? What did she do now?”
“San’s into her, and with her personality, she’s probably loving the attention from the professional heartbreaker.” You groan, glaring at the cover of your organic chemistry textbook. “It’s none of my business if he cares for her, but damn, I wish he could’ve picked anyone else.”
Hongjoong hums, leaning forward and poking at the top of your head. “Look, you’ve been his friend for years. I think you have a bit more of a reason to poke your nose into his business than most. Give it a few weeks, and if it truly bothers you, then you can bring it up to San.”
You sigh. “Maybe.” You say nothing else on the topic and Hongjoong knows not to broach it anymore. Sometimes you wish he wasn’t so smart.
-
“YN, I didn’t know you knew Yeseul!” is the first thing San says to you one week after he returns from one of his many dates with her. “When I mentioned you being my roommate she told me you were in the same class as her.”
You wince to yourself as you take a long swig of your coffee. “Mmh, I didn’t think it was that relevant,” you say. You can practically hear Hongjoong rolling his eyes at your excuse. You know you should tell him your qualms about Yeseul, especially since the gross feeling in your gut has only gotten stronger. But you’re not sure you want to tread those waters. San’s sweet, but he’s loyal to a fault and probably wouldn’t like you talking badly about Yeseul.
San narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious but not willing to pry. “Well, maybe if we ever find you a date, we can go on a double date.” He moves on pretty quickly, though, walking over to lean over your shoulder and look at your laptop. “Still going on that paper?”
You hum, cracking your knuckles. “Yeah, it’s due tomorrow so I need to pump it out today and then get Hongjoong to look it over.” You lean back, letting your head rest on San’s torso as you yawn. “I can’t wait for this to be over so that I can graduate already.”
San laughs, leaning down to rest his chin on your head. “You’re smart. You can do this. And when you’re done, I’ll take you to a party and we can celebrate.”
You groan, shifting forward and putting your hands back on the keyboard. “Well, in that case, I should get back to writing this.” As you start typing again, you hear the buzzer ring and the warmth of San’s body leaves you as he goes to check who it is.
“Oh, hey, Yeseul! Come on up!” Your eyebrows raise into your hairline and your head snaps up. Why would Yeseul go to all this trouble of coming here? Didn’t they just see each other?
You close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths before facing the dragon herself. You can hear the tell-tale sound of her voice pitched up to sound more sweet, although it’s grown to be grating on your ears. “Hi, Sannie,” she purrs and you have to refrain from retching. “I was on my way home but I realised it went right by your apartment so I figured I could come say hi. It doesn’t look like you’re too busy, right?”
“No, not at all,” San replies, and you hate how sweetly he talks to her. “YN is in too, she’s writing her final paper. Wanna say hi? She could probably use the distraction.”
No, I don’t need the distraction, is what you want to scream out, but your mother did not raise you like that although you wish she did. Instead, you just smile politely at the girl entering your kitchen. “Hello, Yeseul. Good to see you again.”
“Hey, YNie!” Her cheery nickname for you has your eye twitching. “How’s the paper going? I finished mine a few weeks ago so I’m home free. Just need to submit it.”
“That’s great, Yeseul,” you say, tone slightly more monotonous than you wanted it to be and San shoots you a look. “Hopefully you get a good grade on it.”
“Hey, would you want to join us for dinner?” San cuts in and you can already feel a headache starting to pulse behind your eyes. “I was going to order pizza since it’s my turn today and I’m not nearly as good of a cook as YN.”
“Oh, that would be lovely! I don’t mind whatever toppings,” Yeseul claps happily. The urge to punch her in the face increases bit by bit for you. San nods happily, stepping out into the living room to place the call. After a moment, Yeseul turns to you with puppy eyes and you brace yourself for whatever she has up her sleeve. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water, YNie?”
You try your best to keep your composure as you get up to fetch her a glass of water. She takes it without even a thank you and you decide you’d much rather die than deal with her any longer so you close your laptop with a sigh. “I’m actually meeting with a friend for dinner, but you definitely should stay and have fun,” you say, smiling as plausibly as you can. You do not have dinner plans but you’re sure you can figure it out.
When you go into your room, you’re drawing blanks. You’re still going out, but you’ll probably just end up calling a friend to complain. As you leave the room and grab your keys, San meets eyes with you and frowns. “Where are you going?”
“Ah, I promised to have dinner with a friend so I’m heading out. Enjoy your time with Yeseul, though.”
The furrow between San’s brows deepens. “But I already ordered the pizza.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “I can bring the leftovers tomorrow for lunch. Sorry, I just forgot to tell you, but I really have to go now. Bye!” Before he can say goodbye as well, you slip out the door. The suffocating feeling that is encompassing you lifts and you sigh in relief, but then you somehow feel worse at the idea of San and Yeseul having fun and giggling and cuddling.
You shake your head again, trying to clear your muddled thoughts before setting down to go find your dinner. Fast food was the easiest option, and you figured you could at least sit in your car and wallow in self-pity.
-
After you receive your order you park and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t want to call your family because as much as you love them, they can be a bit over-protective and probably will offer to help you find a different apartment and that would be a bit dramatic. In the end, Hongjoong is probably the next best option.
He doesn't pick up immediately, and you’re just about to hang up when the phone crackles and Hongjoong’s voice comes through. “Why are you calling me?”
You can’t help but bark out a laugh at his disgruntled tone. “Hongjoong, it’s a perfectly reasonable hour to call, don’t blame me for your shit sleeping schedule. Are you actually free though?”
Hongjoong sighs and if you focus you can hear the sound of him rolling over in bed. “What’s up?”
“It’s about Yeseul again. She came around today, and it was just…so suffocating. Like, why did San have to pick her? There’s so many girls, and out of them all he picks her? The most bitchy one I know?”
Hongjoong hums. “Why does it annoy you so much?”
You groan, leaning your head back and taking a long sip of your drink. “She’s self-centred, bitchy, and she’s just so fake. I don’t think this relationship will end well, Joong. Clearly he’s just blinded and she’s so manipulative.”
“But why are you so bothered by this specifically? I mean, sure we’ve had bad interactions with Yeseul, but you’re pretty nonchalant about the shit San gets up to and you like to let him deal with the consequences himself.”
You frown glaring at the phone although you know he can’t see it and you pop a fry into your mouth. “I don’t know. It just feels different. I feel like I should interfere this time. I mean, he’s a lot more serious this go around.”
Hongjoong hums, rolling once again as he yawns. “YN, be totally honest with me. This is a shot in the dark, but I think this is pretty important.” You hold your breath in anticipation. “Do you like San?”
“Oh sure, he’s a good friend–”
“You and I both know that’s not what I meant.” You bite your lip, stiffening in your chair. “YN, you need to be honest with yourself. The way you talk about San, you interact with him, it’s not how just roommates, just friends interact. You kiss each other's heads, YN. And it can be platonic, but I’ve rarely seen San do that to his female friends, and I’ve never seen you do that, period. You don’t even kiss me.” His voice turns teasing on the last bit but you’re too shocked to register.
Do you like San? You love him like a friend, of course. But when you think about him being with anyone else, even if it wasn’t Yeseul, something in you aches. When you think about San’s smile being directed to anyone else, you can feel a burning in your gut. The answer is clear, whether you like it or not.
“I…yes. I do.” The confession comes out quietly. “But I don’t want to do anything about it. Like you said, it’s up to San whether he likes Yeseul enough. I can’t interfere.”
You can practically hear the look Hongjoong would be levelling at you. “Why not?”
You shrug. “When San likes someone, nothing can stop him from liking someone unless he wants to. I’ll just let it run its course and hopefully my own feelings will vanish in the process.”
“That doesn’t sound very healthy, YN.”
You let out a despondent laugh. “Sure, probably not. But who knows? Maybe I can find someone else in the process.” You let out a sigh before glancing at your now-cold sandwich. “I gotta head out, but thanks for talking, Joong. I’ll see you in class.”
Hongjoong can barely say goodbye before you hang up the phone and lean back. This is going to be difficult. The more you see Yeseul, the more you know you’ll accidentally slip up and something will tip her and San off. Your headache is pulsing behind your eyes and you take a small bite of your sandwich, your appetite diminishing. You miss being a child and your biggest worry is that San sneezed on your lollipop.
With another groan, you wrap up the sandwich and just go for a late-night drive instead to clear your head. It’s something that has never failed to calm you down and keep your mind level. San always berates you for driving alone at night, but you’d like to say you’re pretty safe. Plus, even he has agreed that it’s pretty calming when—you frown, forcing thoughts of San to leave your brain.
You don’t really know how long you’ve been out, but it’s surely long enough that Yeseul has left. As you carefully open the door, there’s a long silence, and you sigh, happy you made it home free. But as you’re about to call out for San, you hear a high-pitched moan come from his bedroom. And it certainly is not San.
You almost turn tail and head right back out of the apartment when you hear San’s reverberating moans fill the house. Against your better judgment, you take off your shoes and step closer towards his bedroom. His bedroom door is cracked open and curse him for putting his mirror right in view where you can see him leaning back on his bed, his lower half hidden off the edge of it and you can only see Yeseul’s knees.
And in your head, you know it’s wrong. But your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel heat building in your core. And, well, you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve. You keep yourself pressed against the wall, staring at the way the muscles in San’s neck strain and the way he moans with every snap of his hips. You’re sure your panties are soaked through by now, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet. The taste of copper enters your mouth but you couldn’t care less.
It’s only when San sits up, probably to fuck into Yeseul better and he disappears from the mirror that you rip yourself away and escape into your own room. Not another thought enters your brain as you strip your leggings and underwear off, flopping on your bed and closing your eyes as you let your hand trail down to press against your slick pussy. It doesn’t take long for you to sink your fingers into your sopping cunt, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow.
The guilt in the back of your mind is quickly sent away as you imagine San’s hands fucking you instead. He’s always had well-worn hands, and your brain fogs up as you imagine him leaning forward to mouth at your neck as he fucks you.
Your brain flips back and forth between the idea of him eating you out so well and fucking so many loads into you with his thick cock that your stomach swells and you whimper into your pillow as your core tightens and you come onto your fingers. You feel tears prick your eyes as you get up to wipe your hands of the cream coating your fingers and toss the tissue in the trash. You’re not sure how you’ll be able to face San or Yeseul again after that.
You can feel the shame burning inside of you and you close your eyes and cry yourself to sleep silently.
-
Waking up is disorienting, your eyes red-rimmed and your bottom lip raw and blood dried on it. You feel like death and you’re pretty sure you can’t attend class like this. You lean over and grab your phone, yawning as you send your professor a text with a weak excuse. You don’t really care how plausible it is, Professor Jeong usually is quite understanding so you don’t worry about that for too long. San had texted you an hour ago, asking if you had come home, and you choose not to answer it.
You can hear mumbling in the other room, probably Yeseul and San sharing goodbyes, when you hear the door shut behind her. Unlike you, she’s probably happy to go to class and tell all her friends about her night with the campus fuckboy.
It takes another thirty minutes for you to finally roll out of bed and put some lotion on your face, hoping for the traces of the questionable night you had to erase from your face. Once you’re satisfied with your appearance, you venture out into your living room where San is standing by the door. “When did you get back?” he asks without even turning around. “I texted you like, an hour ago.”
You shrug, avoiding his eyes as you move into the kitchen to find breakfast. “I only just woke up, San.”
Your roommate gives a short huff, following close behind you. “Don’t you have class? Yeseul just left so you could walk with her.”
You try not to roll your eyes at the idea of that. “I’m not feeling well so I don’t think I’ll go.” “You’re not feeling well?” San’s voice deepens in concern and as you grab a yoghurt, he places his hand atop your forehead. “You are feeling pretty warm.”
At his touch, too many memories of last night flood through your brain and you shake away his hand. “Yeah. I’ll just go lie down for a little. Have a good day.”
Before he can say anything else, or realise your suspicious behaviour, you dodge past him and head off back into your room to hide. “I left your pizza in the fridge,” he calls after you and you just grunt in thanks before barricading yourself in your room.
You lean against the door for a minute before you realise you didn’t even grab a spoon. Unwilling to go back out there, you’ve resigned yourself to licking it out of the container like a cat when you hear a gentle knock at the door.
“I got you a spoon,” San’s unsure voice filters through the wooden door, and you squeeze your eyes shut.
“Thanks, San,” you murmur, turning to open the door a crack and take the proffered utensil. “Sorry for being short with you.”
His lips quirk into a half-smile, a silent acceptance of your apology. “I get it. Just get some rest, YN.”
You close the door again, this time a warm heart in your chest mixing with the guilt you still feel in your gut. You’re not sure how on earth you’re going to get over your feelings for San.
-
Avoiding San goes well for the most part. You are in your finals week anyway, and you’re spending most of your time at the library or in class. Your college’s library stays open for 24 hours during the last week of school anyways so some nights you’ve just been staying there until morning. Hongjoong disapproves heavily but doesn’t say much about it and you appreciate his support either way.
Avoiding Yeseul proves much harder. She seems to always find her way to wherever you happen to be, interrupting you and Hongjoong’s study sessions with a perfect smile and narrowed eyes. You don’t know what she wants from you, and you aren’t pleased with her presence.
But one evening, you’re about to leave the library to have some dinner when she corners you. “YN, let’s talk,” she says in that sickeningly saccharine voice of hers, looping her arm into yours and pulling you down the street. “I have some things to ask you.”
Unwilling, you try to tug your arm out of her grasp, but the girl is stronger than you expected. She pulls you all the way to her dorm on campus, sitting you down on her leather couch. “What is your relationship with Choi San?”
Her question comes so suddenly you need a minute to register. To her credit, Yeseul waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts. “He’s my friend and roommate?” you say as truthfully as you can muster, although you know it’s an absolute lie, and judging from her expression, Yeseul doesn’t believe you either.
“Don’t take me as a fool, YN. The way he talks about you is undeniable.”
“That seems like something you should be talking to him about,” you say, attempting to get up from the couch but Yeseul just pushes you back down.
“I’ve tried. He just tells me there’s nothing to worry about and I don’t believe that,” Yeseul grits through her teeth.
And you have to give it to her. She did try to come to San about her worries. But the way she refuses to trust him grates on your nerves. He stopped his fuckboy activities to be with her, and yet she’s worried about you, one of the few girls who isn’t all over him at any moment. You arch a brow. “Do you not trust him?”
Yseul scoffs. “Of course not. He’s a fuckboy. But I like the status I get with him. I just don’t want to end up embarrassed.”
Well, that will be inevitable, you can’t help but think to yourself. No matter how much your relationship with San is strained, you’re not about to let Yeseul talk shit about him like he isn’t genuinely trying for her.
“That’s where you come into play,” Yeseul’s smirk turns sharp. “I’m going to call San. Ask him to choose between us. If he chooses you, then I want you to stay far, far away from him.”
You shrug. No matter the outcome, it’s not like you’re not already keeping your distance from San. In the end, you’ll just tell him to break up with her and let him deal with the chaos himself. “Go ahead,” bitch.
San picks up on the first ring. “Yeseul?” He’s cheery and your heart aches at the thought of Yeseul breaking his so easily. “What’s the occasion?”
“Hey, babe, I just have a quick question, and I need you to answer truthfully for me, okay?” At his pause, she takes that as a go-ahead. “Who would you pick? Me or YN.”
There’s a long silence on the phone. “Yeseul, we need to break up.”
Only one thing unites you and Yeseul in this moment, and it’s your shared confusion for San’s reaction. “What do you mean?” her voice turns panicked. “Isn’t that a little far?”
“You’ve been stuck on this, and I don’t know how much I have to reassure you, Yeseul. I haven’t even seen YN for the past two weeks. And she’s my closest friend. I’m not dropping her for a two-week relationship. I hope you have a good time, Yeseul.”
Before you can react at all, Yeseul screeches and points an accusing finger at you. “This is all your fault, YN!”
Your jaw drops at her absolute audacity. “My fault? What are you on? I was just trying to live peacefully when you dragged me into this plot ignoring my advice. I told you to talk to him, to just fucking trust him. God, you’re an idiot. And I’m going home.”
Without another word, you leave, still fuming over that interaction. Couldn’t she just have made the call without you? You’re happy you don’t have to do all the convincing for San to leave her, but that just complicates things for you. Would he really so easily drop Yeseul just for you? From what you’ve heard, he was practically head over heels for her.
With another sigh, you head back to the library. You need to finish that exam.
-
“Pens down, and turn in your exams,” you hear the professor call, and you don’t think you’ve ever gotten up so fast. You’re so, so fucking happy that you’ve finished your last year and now you’re free.
As soon as your professor accepts your paper you race out of the lecture hall, only stopped by the cafeteria when you hear someone call your name. Lee Juyeon, someone you’ve started growing closer to, waves you down. “Hey, YN, congrats on finishing!” he smiles at you and you can’t help but smile back, the giddiness contagious.
“Thanks! You too,” you say, pulling him into a hug. “It’s so nice to be done.” Practically nothing could dampen your mood, especially seeing Juyeon. He’s sweet, and you have an inkling he likes you. And you’re not opposed to it.
“It really is,” Juyeon agreed cheerfully. “Look, I have to go celebrate with my family, I just wanted to say hi. But hey…there’s this end of the year party on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”
And your suspicions were right. You think about it for a moment. You’re not the biggest party person, anyone knows that, but Juyeon is sweet and just what you need, so you accept eagerly. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to exchange numbers and for him to promise to send you more details before he runs off. And through your excitement, you know you still have to go meet with San who’s probably waiting for you just outside. He wanted to see you as soon as you finish your exams, and you didn’t have the heart to decline.
“Congratulations on finishing your last exam, YN!” San cheers as soon as you exit the college building. “I’m so proud of you!”
You’re too tired to complain when San sweeps you up into a hug, just letting yourself relax in his firm arms. After all this work, you think you’ll let yourself indulge in his affection. “Thanks, Sanah. I appreciate it.” You let your chin rest on his broad shoulder, closing your eyes and letting the exhaustion take over you. “Can I go to bed now?”
You hear him chuckle, the vibrations from his chest comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. We can celebrate later. Come on.”
He tugs you all the way to your apartment, dropping you on the couch and quickly curling right up next to you. You can’t bring yourself to care. “I’m proud of you,” he repeats into your hair as he tucks your head into his neck. Your eyes flutter shut.
When you reopen them, it’s bordering on evening. San is no longer wrapped around you, and you can hear him moving about in the kitchen. “San,” you call out, voice raspy from having just woken up. “What are you doing?”
“Ah, I’m making dinner,” he responds, his voice too warm for your liking, your heart beating just a little faster. “Come and eat.”
With a bit of difficulty, you rise from the couch and move to the kitchen, taking a seat at the counter. “Japchae? When did you learn how to cook this?”
San chuckles. “Wooyoung taught me the other day because he was bored. I figured it’d be a nice surprise for you after all your hard work.”
Your lips twitch, unsure if you should smile or pout. “That’s sweet. Thank you again, San.”
As you start eating the noodles (there’s a little too much sesame but you don’t have the heart to tell San that), San clears his throat. “So…I promised to take you to a party.”
You vaguely remember this conversation. “Ah, yeah. What did you have in mind?”
“There’s this end of the year party, it’s supposed to be the biggest one, hosted by Jackson Wang.”
“Ah–” you shake your head, eyes apologetic. “I promised someone else I’d go with them. I didn’t know that was the party you wanted to take me to. Maybe we can do something else on a different day?”
San’s lips turn downward the slightest bit. “That’s okay. There are other parties. Who invited you, by the way?” His tone is casual, and yet you still feel like you’re walking into the lion’s den.
“Ah, Lee Juyeon from college. I think he’s in Hongjoong’s philosophy department, but he’s a year behind. He’s cute so I figured I’d give it a try.”
“It’s a date?” Your brows furrow at the heaviness in San’s voice but you pay it no mind and nod. “I see. Well, have fun.”
The rest of the dinner is filled with silence, San picking at his food and you in no mood to try and dissect his mood. He takes your empty bowl and starts doing the dishes, and you mumble out a thank you before running back to your room. He’s clearly not willing to talk more and it’s best to give him space.
As you lay in bed, you can’t help but worry about what is so grating on his mind after you mentioned your date. You can’t think of anything that would cause him to be angry—as far as you’re aware he has no grudges against Lee Juyeon, much less met him. Shaking your head, you try and fall asleep. It’s best not to dwell on it, you can just ask him tomorrow.
-
It’s Saturday, and you’re in a foul mood. San hasn’t spoken to you in the four days leading up to the party, avoiding you like there’s no tomorrow. The only saving grace comes in the form of Juyeon’s excited texts, telling you all about his outfit for the party, and you respond with matching enthusiasm. When you meet with Juyeon in front of the large house where the party is held, the thought of San isn’t even on your mind. Instead, you just take Juyeon’s offered hand and follow him into the party.
You weave through the bodies, reaching the counter where shots are being passed around. “Want vodka or tequila?” Juyeon asks, his voice pitching higher to be heard over the bass. Without answering him, you just reach for the bottle of tequila, pouring the two of you shots. “Good choice,” Juyeon laughs, throwing his head back as he downs the alcohol, you following suit shortly.
“You know, I never pegged you for a college party fan,” you lean in, laughing. “Maybe I should hang out with you more.”
Juyeon chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Maybe you should. I know great party-throwers. Although I’ve heard you’ve been to your fair share, what being San’s friend and all.”
You shake your head, a smile on your face. “Maybe at first, but you know, organic chemistry isn’t an easy major to balance with a party life.”
Juyeon laughs loudly, bumping you with his hip. “I understand the pain. Philosophy falls into that category of majors too. Another shot?”
You take the second shot happily, letting the alcohol burn through your veins as you stumble alongside Juyeon’s wandering through the crowd. Whatever you’re doing is a blur, all you can focus on is Juyeon’s smile and his warm hand holding yours.
It feels like barely a moment has passed when Juyeon pulls you into a nearly empty room of couches, only a few other couples lingering in the corners. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself,” Juyeon starts, his eyes sparkling as he takes in your appearance. “It’s been fun hanging out.”
“I did too,” you agree with a small smile, looking up at him through your lashes.
He leans in, and you lean in, and your lips brush. It’s a sweet kiss, one that you lean into as Juyeon wraps his arms around your waist. It’s warm and you smile into it. And then a familiar face pops into your head. You wonder to yourself how San would kiss you, if he would do it as sweetly as Juyeon or if he would devour your lips like it was his last meal.
When Juyeon pulls away for air, you feel guilt burning in your stomach again. Why would you think of other men when Juyeon’s right here in front of you? As Juyeon leans in to kiss you again, you almost move back before a hand grips your shoulder and pulls you into a broad chest.
“Hey, man, I’m going to have to talk to YN if you don’t mind.” You’d recognise your best friend’s voice anywhere, and it only serves to fill you with annoyance. Sure, you weren’t as into Juyeon’s kisses as you expected, but it doesn’t mean you’re thrilled to be interrupted by the man who’s been ignoring you.
Juyeon takes one look at San, and something changes in his eyes. A mix of reluctance and acceptance, and with a short nod and smile towards you, he slips away from you. You turn to San, frowning at the sharpness in his narrowed eyes, not one you’re used to seeing or enjoy seeing. “Why would you kiss him?” he spits, and your annoyance grows with confusion being added to the mix.
“What do you mean, ‘why kiss him’? I told you, San, I was on a date. Why the fuck did you interrupt us?”
“I like you.” Those three words would be a dream for you to hear from his mouth…if you weren’t so pissed.
“No, fuck that. I do not need to hear that from you right now. Not when I was enjoying my night with Juyeon. What was confessing supposed to do for you, San? It’s too late now. I wanted to enjoy this party, and now I have to go apologise to Juyeon for you.” San opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head, pushing him away from you.
You leave San standing by himself as you search for Juyeon, your mood immediately souring. Why would he fucking do this to you? You can feel tears burning your eyelids and you abandon your search for Juyeon, searching instead for some liquor to take away your embarrassment.
As you pour yourself another shot of tequila, you notice a familiar face, Hongjoong talking to a girl you recognise as someone he hangs out with sometimes. They look like they’re getting it on and you feel a little bad, but you need his advice. “Hey, Kim Hongjoong!” you call out to him, waving him over. Hongjoong’s eyes brighten and he makes his way over, leaving the girl staring after him longingly, but her attention is soon taken away by two other guys. You recognise one of them from the cafeteria but you don’t remember his name.
“Hey, YN, what’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here, did San take you?” Your face falls and Hongjoong realises he stepped into dangerous territory. “Okay, what happened?”
-
“I can’t believe San is mad at me for kissing someone at the party,” you groan after explaining to Hongjoong the events leading up to now. “Sure, maybe it wasn’t the best move on my part but he’s had like, twenty million one-night stands, and yet I can’t kiss someone else? He hasn’t even talked to me after I mentioned going on a date. And yet he looked positively murderous after he saw me kissing that other guy.”
Hongjoong tilts his head, confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted, though? You like him.”
“I did! I do! But I’m so sick of waiting around for him, and I could’ve had a chance at liking someone else. He’s all over the place, and I don’t know if that’s what I want in a man.” You’re lying to both Hongjoong and yourself, and Hongjoong knows it, raising an eyebrow.
“Honestly, YN, it just sounds like you need to talk to him.” Hongjoong crosses his arms, tapping his foot and eager to back to the girl was with, but also not wanting to ditch you in your time of need. You feel a little bad for pulling him away, but your mind is swirling with so many thoughts, you don’t know if you can sort them out by yourself and drinking to erase those thoughts is not something you like to do. You’re not San.
And speak of the devil, you smell his familiar cologne before his hand lands on your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. You whirl around out of his grip and glare at him. “Get off me,” you snap. “I’m in the middle of a conversation right now, Choi San.”
With one glance at Hongjoong, he raises his hands and winks at you. “Have that talk, YN. It’ll do you more good than harm.”
Oh, you’re going to kill that traitor after the party. You turn your attention back to San, your mouth twisted into a frown. “You make this quick or else.”
San has the decency to look a little ashamed as his eyes shake. “Can we talk on the patio? It’s too loud in here.”
With a dramatic sigh, you grab his wrist and pull him through the crowd to the back door, practically slamming it behind you. You can see the eyes of people interested in the drama through the windows but you pay it no mind. “Speak. You get five minutes before I go back in and you don’t talk to me again for the rest of the night.”
San’s face falls and his lips pull into a pout. But no matter how subconsciously adorable he is, you refuse to fall for his charms this time. The heat of anger is still curling in your gut when you think about the argument from earlier. “YN, come on, I had a good reason.”
You shake your head, ignoring the strands of hair that fall into your eyes. “No, San. Confessing to me is not a good reason to fuck up my night. You didn’t even apologise. You’ve been ignoring me for days after I mentioned my date, and the moment I kiss Juyeon you get all angry and jealous? Be for real.” You pause for breath, glaring daggers into his eyes. “You are not owed my time, especially after that shit you pulled. Yeseul’s jealousy is why you broke up with her, so why are you like this to me?”
San’s gaze intensifies and you can see him actively trying to reign in his temper. Although he does his best to remain calm, if tempers are rising, he can be intense. “YN, what was I supposed to do? Watch you go out with him? Watch you slip from my fingers just like that?”
“Yes!” you all but scream at him. “If I could sit by and let Yeseul take each little bit of your heart, you could’ve done the same! I was going to be happy, San! I wouldn’t have to sit behind and watch you from the sidelines with my heart slowly cracking. But I don’t get that same courtesy.”
You step forward, poking his chest with a finger as you let loose your storm of thoughts. In your anger, you don’t even notice San’s arm moving until it wraps around your waist and pulls you into him. The action shocks you enough that you stop mid-sentence, your finger still pressing into San’s flesh. “You love me?” San leans in, his nose brushing against yours.
You can feel heat flare up in your face as you stare wide-eyed at him. It takes you a moment to register your compromising position and you stumble back, pushing at his chest. “Don’t do that,” you hiss, turning your eyes away. “I don’t like you, San. Not anymore.”
“You’re lying.” San’s voice is firm. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me you don’t like me anymore.”
You don’t know where you got it from. You’ve never been good at lying, not to San. Maybe it was the alcohol burning through your system, mixing with the shame and anger you feel. But this time, you stare him directly in the eye and say the four words that might’ve been the biggest lie in your life. “I don’t like you.” San’s brows furrow and he shakes his head.
“No–”
“Yes, San. You cannot just waltz around and expect me to keep the patience I had for you. I’m sick of being pulled around like a puppet. Maybe at first you didn’t know. But refusing to give me space when I asked for it?” You shake your head, glancing back at the party. “I’m going back in. We can talk about the apartment lease later.”
Without glancing back, you re-enter the house. And maybe it hurts a little that he doesn’t go after you, but at this point, you’re too numb and all you want to do is go home and cry. But home is not an option, not when it would probably be the first place he would look for you. Fighting back the tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you slide into your car, staring blankly at the wheel for a long moment until you feel composed and sober enough to drive.
And drive you certainly do. You’re not quite sure where you’re going, and you’re plenty aware that this is a bad idea, but you just let yourself go around and calm yourself down first. The crisp breeze paired with the warm spring air does wonders to clear your head and paired with the late times, there are not too many cars out. It’s peaceful.
You’re not too sure how long you were out, but it’s long enough for the blurry memory of the argument to clear and you groan, pulling over to park by the side of the road and let your head hit the steering wheel. You went too far. San had always been the more emotional of you two, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. He must’ve had a hard time with Yeseul, and although it doesn’t excuse him, you never gave him a chance to properly apologise.
With a sigh, you check your phone to see five missed calls and twenty texts from San asking where you are. He somehow even got your neighbours (a sweet couple in their twenties who babysit Byeol sometimes) to ask you if you’re okay. As your finger hovers over the call button, debating whether to call him back, bright headlights shine behind your car and you stiffen. Your hand hovers over the pepper spray you keep in the dash as you press the call button in a panic. No matter what the disagreement was about, you know San would still come to your aid if you needed it.
“YN, open the door. I’ve been worried sick!” San’s voice crackles through the receiver and you spin around in your seat, squinting at the figure standing behind your car and your shoulders sag in relief.
“God, San, you scared the shit out of me!” you scold, leaning over to unlock the passenger seat and push the door open while hanging up the call. “Get in here.”
A haggard-looking San slides in, his eyes red-rimmed and mouth pressed into a thin line. The car that drove him turns and you look back in confusion before San starts explaining. “I wanted to give you space so I stayed at the party,” he starts explaining after a moment. “But I got worried and went to the apartment to find you. But you weren’t there, and I asked all your friends. I’m lucky you left your location on, and my friend gave me a ride.”
You wince. You forgot about turning off your location, although you’re glad you didn’t as it would’ve been more dangerous otherwise. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning your eyes to look out the windshield. “I just needed to clear my head so I went for a drive.”
There’s a long period of suffocating silence between the two of you when San finally speaks, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry,” he starts and your head snaps towards him, eyes wide. Of all the things you expected to fall from his lips, an apology is not one of those things. Not tonight, at least. “I was too pushy. I shouldn’t have ignored you, or interrupted your time with Juyeon. I should’ve talked to you like an adult.”
You laugh, resting your head on the steering wheel. “What an astute observation, San. However did you come to that conclusion?” Your exasperation is evident in your tone and San sucks in a breath at how done you seem. “Look, San. I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be that bad. But I’m just…tired. I’m tired of always wondering what is running through your mind, where I am in your list of importance. You date Yeseul, but break up with her over me. You give me the cold shoulder when I go on a date, but suddenly me being on a date is unacceptable. I just don’t know how to take anything.”
Against your will, tears start to drop onto your thighs, streaking down the skin and you sniff. “Shit,” San panics beside you. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He hands you a tissue and you take it with shaking hands, pressing your face into it as San tugs you closer, guiding you to lean against him.
He repeats soft little ‘sorry’s and leans his head atop yours, his tears falling onto your hair. The two of you stay in this position for a long while, no words are needed to understand the emotional moment.
“Let’s go home, YN,” San mumbles, his voice vibrating deep in your heart. “Let’s go home and we can talk tomorrow.”
You sniff again, tears run dry as you sit up and wipe your eyes. “Okay,” you whisper out. “Let’s go home.”
San stays attached to you throughout the drive home, his hand gripping onto your own hand whenever he can, and quickly wrapping you into a back hug as you walk up to the apartment. “I…cuddle with me tonight?” you ask, eyes flitting away from his face, missing the brilliant smile that spreads across it.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he hums, walking with you to his room, and he lets you slide in first, the smell of his detergent filling your mind and your eyelids flutter shut already. San crawls in next to you, pulling you close.
“Good night, YN,” San mumbles as your breathing evens out. As you drift off into sleep, you swear you feel his soft lips on your forehead but you dismiss it as wishful thinking.
-
When you reawaken, San’s still curled up, your body covered by his, his breathing slow and gentle. You can’t help but blink a couple of times to make sure it isn’t a dream when his arms tighten around your waist and he shifts. “YN?” His morning voice is as rough as always, rumbling low in his chest.
“Hey, Sanah,” you greet him quietly, leaning up to meet his eyes blinking slowly at you like a cat’s. “Good morning.”
“Hi.” He dips his head to nuzzle into your neck, breathing in your scent. “I should probably explain myself.” His voice vibrates against your neck and you giggle softly at the ticklish feeling.
“That would be nice.”
San huffs, but he can’t complain about your snark. “I like you, YN. I don’t know when I started to, and I definitely didn’t realise I did until I started dating Yeseul. I did like her, but not as deeply as I thought I did. It was so easy to break up with her as soon as she made me pick between you and her. The answer came to me without a doubt in my mind as soon as the question left her lips, and yet I still didn’t realise my true feelings.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, and you stroke his hair comfortingly. “I didn’t realise why I was so pissed about you going out with Juyeon, and that’s why I was avoiding you. It’s a stupid reason, I know. But I just didn’t know why, not until I saw you at the party kissing him. I just wanted to be there instead of you. And I’m sorry, and I understand if you don’t like me anymore, but–”
“I love you.”
His head snaps up to stare at you after your sudden declaration, and after he registers your words a smile spreads across his face. He puffs out a breathy chuckle and you know his answer before he even says it. “I love you too.”
His eyes shine like you’ve hung the stars in the skies, and when they flit down to your lips, you know an unspoken question when you see it. You lean forward slowly, letting your eyes close once more when your lips meet his.
And damn, you were right about how San kisses. In a second, he deepens the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup your face while his tongue swipes at your lips. Shyly, you part your lips and he dives right in, licking into your mouth and biting at your lips.
“Sanah,” you gasp into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his plush lips. “Sanah–”
You repeat his name like a prayer as his lips travel down to your neck, littering wet kisses and bite marks all over your sensitive skin. “Fuck, baby, you’re so sweet to me,” San moans against your body. “Please, please, let me treat you right, make it up to you. Let me worship you.”
You whine as he laves his tongue over your breasts spilling out of the crop top you had worn last night. Any other time you would’ve stressed at how gross the clothes were but right now you could hardly even think about it. “Fuck, yes, please,” you beg when San nips at your cleavage, leaving a mark.
“Ah, already begging for me,” San groans, his hips pressing into your legs. “You’re so perfect.” His voice grows whiney as his sucks on your nipples, making your back arch.
His kisses move down your body until his breath is ghosting over your stomach and his hands are pawing at your pants, shoving them down as quickly as he can. He doesn’t have the same amount of minimal patience for your panties, and before you can react, he’s ripped them off your legs. “Choi San!” you scold, shifting to try and sit up but his grip on your hips stops you from moving too far.
“I’ll buy you a new pair,” San promises before diving right in and sucking at your clit without another moment’s hesitation. Your hips jerk and your core tightens at the sudden feeling as you throw your head back and moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream
His ministrations on your dripping cunt have you wordless. His fingers are pressing into your hip bones, the sensation making you squirm. As soon as his tongue breaches your clenching hole your hands fly down to grasp at his hair. “Fuck–” you squeal, your legs attempting to close but San just pushes them apart again, busying himself in your folds.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” San groans, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine as he lets his teeth scrape against your clit. You can hardly focus on anything at the barrage of sensations filling you up, San fucking his tongue into you so well. Your thighs are shaking as you can feel yourself grow wetter and wetter against his face.
When you tilt your head down, he meets your eyes as he moves one of his hands to push a finger into your hole. “Shit–” your grip on his hair tightens impossibly. “Sanah–”
“Come for me, love,” San groans, and you let the dam break, screaming out his name until your voice is hoarse, and San licks up your release through it all.
When he finally pulls away from your twitching and sensitive core, his lips are covered in your glistening slick, thick globs of it sitting pretty on his chin. Without thinking, you pull him down and crash your lips against his, tasting yourself on his tongue. San groans as you lick his face clean, shoving your tongue deep into his mouth.
“Fuck, I need to fuck you right now or else I think I might go insane,” San growls, blindly fumbling in his nightstand to pull out a condom as he shoves down his sweats to reveal his hard, red cock. Without another thought, he opens the pack with his teeth, rolling the latex down his length with ease thanks to the precum dribbling down it.
He lines up, the tip of it kissing your hole, when you groan. You’re much too impatient for this, reaching down and holding him steady as you shift your body to sink onto his thick cock. “Shit, YN,” San grits out as you take him deeper and deeper until your cunt kisses his crotch. “You’re too much.”
You pant, shifting on his cock as you try to get used to the stretch. He’s not the longest you’ve had, but he’s thick and the stretch is almost too much. “You’re fucking talking, you fill me up so fucking well, Sanah.” You hiss as you throw your head back, the stinging melting into pleasure. “Fuck me already, San. Or should I go and find Juyeon to–”
You’re cut off by San thrusting into you so violently that you swear the bed shakes. “I don’t want to hear that fucking name out of your mouth anymore,” San commands, leaning forward until his body weight pins you down and your eyes roll back as he starts fucking into you with short, quick thrusts.
With every movement, you feel like you may break apart. You can hear every slick sound, the sound of it obscene, and yet all you want is more. Your previous release coats his cock so well, thick strings of it attaching to his hips.
His arms wrap around your waist, and before you can protest or do anything, he hoists you up until you’re sitting in his lap. You swear this angle makes him impale you even deeper, his cockhead kissing the perfect spot deep inside you. Your head drops to San’s shoulder, moaning against the fabric of his shirt. “Fuck, San, you’re so deep,” you moan high-pitched. “You’re so fucking good for me.”
San growls, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “You’re so tight for me, so much better than Yeseul. I saw you in the mirror, you know,” he whispers conspiratorially and you gasp and clench, snapping your head to look at him. “You’re not as sneaky as you thought, love. Did you touch yourself to the thought of me fucking you so well?”
You whine, words failing you, and San’s hips slow to a stop. You try your best to grind against him but his hands grip your waist, keeping you still. “Please–” you try to beg but San chuckles and nips at your earlobe.
“Answer me, YN.”
“Fuck– Yes!” you cry out, so eager for him to start moving again. “Wanted you to fill me with your cum so well until it was spilling out of me. Please, please, please, fuck me.”
“Hm.” And without any warning, San jerks his hips up into you, biting into your neck like a fucking vampire and you scream, hips stuttering as you come on his cock. You don’t think you’re making any coherent noises, just babbling into his neck as your bones become jelly from the overstimulation.
If you thought the sounds were obscene before, you swear they’ve become ten times worse as you lay limp against San’s body. He’s moving you up and down his cock like a doll and you pant, squeezing your eyes shut as you still feel aftershocks from your orgasm.
“Shit, you’re so warm around me, I’m gonna come,” San moans in your ear, his rhythm breaking as he drops your weight on his cock. You can feel him twitching inside you as his teeth sink into your neck once more. “God, I want to fill you up so badly, but that’s just going to have to wait, my love.”
After a long moment, he pulls out, groaning at your come coating the condom and his thighs. Without thinking, he dips his fingers in the mess and brings it to his mouth, licking it off like it’s the most delicious thing in the world to him. “Come here, baby,” he says in that beautifully raspy voice, and you lean forward, meeting his lips in another kiss.
This kiss is sweet and soft, but the lingering taste of your shared releases still permeates your taste buds. You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder as he lays against the wall with you in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, pressing another kiss to the top of your head and it’s almost like he hadn’t fucked you like it was your last day on earth. “I won’t ever leave you again.”
You hum, turning your head to pepper kisses over his neck freckles. “I should be the one saying that. I love you, San. And I’ll always run to you with no hesitation.”
652 notes · View notes
emeryleewho · 2 months
Text
If you're worried about the enshittification of the internet completely killing your access to work by your favorite creatives (I've already seen a lot of artists I love state they'll be leaving Tumblr thanks to all the AI training), I want to introduce you to a handful of ways to circumvent the social media hellscape to stay connected to your favorite creators.
RSS Feeds
I'd argue that this is the best option. It essentially allows you to create your own social media "dashboard" by saving websites and getting updates when they post new content. Most websites already have these, and if social media goes down (or just continues to degrade), the best way you can access your favorite creators will be with direct connection to their personal websites. I'm still learning how to use these, but if you want to learn more, this article does a great job.
2. Newsletters
I know newsletters are a pain and it's annoying to have your inbox cluttered, but if there are creators you know you'd be remiss to lose access to, I recommend subscribing to their newsletters. I'd honestly skip the ones that share frequent content you don't need, but for example, my newsletter is updates only so I only send it out maybe every few months when something big happens. It's an easy way to stay up to date on info that social media buries. Of course, if your faves are writing up blog posts & insights that you want to read in newsletter form, consider subscribing to those as well, and don't feel like you have to subscribe to *every* newsletter to make it worthwhile. You just want to make sure you can still be reached by the creators whose work you really don't want to miss.
3. Ko-Fi/Patreon
I don't think a lot of people realize you can follow people on these platforms for free, but because they have paid options, they offer more direct access than social media sites whose algorithms will just erase people you love from your feed altogether. This one isn't the best alternate since a lot of content may be behind a paywall, but if you just want an easy way to be sure you'll still have access to updates from people you want to support, this is a usable way to compile creators in one place and most creators will post updates for free so you should still get those.
So yeah, these are my suggestions. If you're just on social media casually and you just like the easy access to content but don't particularly care about individual creators or specific projects or anything like that then you probably don't need any of this and that's fine. If social media is continuing to work for you then feel free to continue enjoying it without worrying about alternatives. I just want people to have a fail safe if you, like me, are realizing that this shit is getting completely out of hand and everything you once wanted social media for is quickly becoming inaccessible.
Anyway, I highly recommend tuning in to people's personal websites, but I doubt most people have the energy to check each individual website so RSS Feeds are great alternative. Whatever you choose to do, just try to diversify enough that no one company can completely kill your access to your faves on a whim and remember that the closer to direct communication you can get to with creatives the better.
665 notes · View notes
allysunny · 4 months
Note
Hello 👋 can I pls request dating and jealousy headcanons for Bale! Batman? The reader works in his company and is very sweet and generous? Thank you ❤️
Tumblr media
Dating and Jealousy Headcanons | Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader
Tumblr media
Words: 6k words
Warnings: None, I would say? Workplace relationship, if that's a tag, hahaha. Jealous and overprotective Bruce, one (1) makeout session and I don't think anything else? Do correct me if I'm wrong.
A/N: Hello everyone! Here's another one of my Bruce asks! I had a really fun time writing it - I love this man so much omg. I hope you guys have as much fun reading it as I had writing it!
Also I apologize if I got any of HR functions and tasks wrong, please do not kill me if they're not correct, I had to do some research, hahaha! Also, I've just realised how vague the information on Wayne Enterprises is. Like, what the hell do they do? I've been rewatching the movies because my family never has, and they're never clear about it lol. Except for the first movie and the whole "Thomas Wayne wouldn't want us to build war weapons" plot, what the hell do they do there???
Tumblr media
At first, he had no idea who you were.
And honestly, could you blame him? He’s the owner of this enormous company that employs at least a hundred people.
You were working in the Human Resources department and were praised by every single one of your coworkers. You were the one keeping everything in check, from analysing performance and helping everyone set goals on what they wanted to achieve at work, to organising databases and generating reports. Those jobs should technically be made by at least 3 different people, but you were efficient and very professional, and most of the time took it upon yourself to oversee things and make sure all was running smoothly.
Bruce ran into you for the first time when you were checking on the Applied Sciences department. You had been sitting next to Lucius Fox, keeping a record of all the important work he’d done the last month, as well as going over the paperwork that outlined whatever his job entailed – while still in the AS department, Lucius was now a member of the board once again, and you wanted to make sure he had everything under control – as always, he did.
Bruce had walked in and raised an eyebrow. He’d never seen you before, were you one of his employees? Some relative of Lucius’s? His partner? Who the hell were you, and what were you doing in here?
“Ah, Mr. Wayne.” Lucius said with a nonchalant smile, standing up to shake his hand in a warm greeting. “As always, it’s a pleasure to see you. I was going over my Monthly Workplace Wellness Check with Miss [L/N] over here, and it seems all is in order.
“Mr. Wayne,” you greeted him, standing up and offering him your hand. This was your boss – the Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, arguably the richest and wealthiest man in the city, the boss, the man you’d never actually seen, but everyone spent no expense in talking about. And they did not lie – the man in front of you was handsome, with dark brown hair carefully slicked back and warm brown eyes that scanned you over carefully. He looked far too good in his navy suit, and you tried your best not to let your gaze linger on him – it would be unprofessional, and you wouldn’t want to be fired for sexual harassment.
Bruce, on the other hand, thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes upon. Your body was being snuggly hugged by a pretty, dark pencil skirt, and you wore a white dress shirt with flowy sleeves. The first two buttons were open, exposing a small patch of delicate skin and a leaf pendant. Cute.
Slipping his aloof mask back on, he shook your hand, relishing the feel of your hand on his. Your grip was firm – you were clearly trying not to be intimidated by him, but there was also something very tender about it.
“Miss [L/N], is it?” he asked, leaning back and placing his hands inside his pants pockets.
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ve never seen you around here – are you new or something?”
You tried not to flush in embarrassment. It’s only normal he wouldn’t even know who you were. After all, he’s got a whole company to take care of. And it’s not like you hung around the top floors a lot – your work was among everyone else, not the board. They had their own assistants for that.
“No sir – I’ve been working here for a few years. I’m HR Director.” You replied, trying to sound confident. This was your job and you’d been doing it very well – extremely well – and you were proud of it. It was a great opportunity to let your boss know of how great of a worker you were.
“HR Director, huh?” Bruce hummed, turning to Lucius once again. “You familiar with Miss [L/N]?”
“Yes sir,” the older man replied, smiling confidently at you. “She’s been overseeing most departments for about five years now. She’s the reason everything’s going so smoothly.”
“Really?” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of responsibility.”
“Yes sir, it is,” you nod. “I’m very proud of my job.”
Bruce took one good look at you once again and nodded.
“Fox, I wanted to check on you about some of the, well, some of the orders we placed last week. But seeing that you’re busy, I’ll return later.”
Lucius nodded and sat back down. Unlike you, he felt comfortable around Bruce, even if he was his boss. After all, who else had helped Bruce Wayne spelunking?
“How about I fax you when I’m done?”
“Oh, I can – I could come back later if you wished to talk to Mr. Fox right now?” You asked, quickly turning to your desk to retrieve your clipboard and pens.
“No need, Miss [L/N],” Bruce responded, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt an employee doing a good job. I’ll wait for Fox’s fax.”
You placed your clipboard down and nodded, offering him a small smile.
“Thank you, sir.”
Bruce found himself returning it, before turning to Lucius and nodding in acknowledgement and then walking away.
“I’m quite sure he’s gone, Miss [L/N].” Lucius announced, an amusing smile playing in his lips. You nodded, trying to get that flustered look off your face.
The man next to you supressed a chuckle – he was sure the first thing his boss would do when he got to his office was do a thorough research on his HR Director. And it’s not like he hadn’t noticed the heat that seemed to have crept up on your cheeks. He shook his head and turned to you, focusing on the Wellness Check.
Lucius was right. The first thing Bruce did when he got to his office, was do some research on you. Who you were, what job you held exactly you held, how long you’d been in the company. Not in a creepy way (or so he tried to convince himself), more in a “How come I’ve gone so long without knowing my HR Director? Who knows what kind of people are working in my company, and how come I don’t know them all? Who knows what their true intentions are” kind of way. Not that he doubted you – Lucius wasn’t the type to lie – but he was… Curious. Very curious.
He also decided to ask around about you. No one would know you and your work better than the people that interacted with you daily.
The word around was that you were an exemplary employee. Professional, hardworking, and kind to a fault. Everyone told Bruce about how incredible your work ethic was, and how helpful you were. How you always offered an arm when asked for a hand, how you’d go the lengths to help your coworkers even if it meant you would work overtime.
“She’s quite incredible, Mr. Wayne. Very efficient, very focused,” his board members would tell him, going over the fantastic things you’d done for the company. “She’s actually personally trained each of our interns herself – that’s why they’ve picked up on their work so quickly.”
“I don’t know about your department, but we work better when she’s overseeing us. [Y/N] is really kind, she’s very firm in her job, but never rude. You know what I mean?”
[Y/N], huh? Pretty name.
“She’s an excellent communicator, fights barely happen when she’s around because she makes everyone feel heard and understood.”
“Her initiatives have significantly enhanced our company culture, that’s for sure.”
“Her consistency to always go above and beyond in her efforts would make Thomas Wayne proud. This is what he would’ve wanted Wayne Enterprises to be about.”
There were many the people that mentioned his father’s name along with yours. How he’d be proud of you, how he’d give you a promotion right away, how workers like you were exactly what he needed in his company. And Bruce was intrigued. Because, how come such a gem was working under him, and he had no idea?
He had to change that, clearly.
“Miss [L/N]?” he asked you once as you were about to leave for the day. You turned around and couldn’t hide the way your eyes widened in surprise. What did your boss want? And how come he’d remembered your name?
“Yes, Mr. Wayne?” you looked up at him and tried to focus. A million thoughts were running through your head. What did he want? Why had he chased you? Oh goodness, had he chased you? Had he run a background check on you of some sorts and was unsatisfied with the work you were doing? Were you going to be fired? You couldn’t – you’d been working here for about five years and never once slacked off. This couldn’t be happening, could it?
“I was wondering if you would like to join me to dinner later this week.” The words rolled smoothly out of his mouth, practiced, precise. He knew what he wanted and was not going to play around.
“Dinner?” you repeated, furrowing your brows. “This week? With you?”
“Dinner, this week, yes. That’s what I said.” Bruce nodded, and patiently awaited a response. He knew it might be weird. Your boss, whom you did not know, suddenly asked you for dinner?
You stared at him, running his words over in your head. Your boss wanted to have dinner with you. Your boss. Bruce Wayne wanted to have dinner with you. Part of your brain told you this was a terrible idea. Everyone knew what the papers said about Bruce Wayne, that he was a womanizer, a playboy. You didn’t want to be just another name in a long line of women he slept with.
But there was something inside of you that kept screaming “GO TO DINNER WITH BRUCE WAYNE PLEASE. YOU LITERALLY HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE”.
Except perhaps, your job. What if he asked something of you, something you couldn’t give him? What if he punished you for it? What if, all along, this was a big ploy to check his sources and get you fired?
“Miss [L/N]? Is everything alright?” Bruce asked, looking at you in concern.
Screw it. You were a damn good employee. There was no way your boss was going to fire you, murder you, or whatever other silly ideas were going around in your head. You shook them away and looked at him once again, smiling.
“Yes, sorry. Everything is fine. And yes, dinner sounds really nice. Thank you for inviting me.”
Bruce gave you a polite nod, before looking behind you, where his limo went.
“I will send you the details later then. Is Thursday okay?”
“Yes! Thursday is fine.”
Bruce nodded again, and looked at his limo, this time with a tad more urgency.
“Miss [L/N], I would offer you a ride home, but I have quite the long list of errands to attend to. I will see you later this Thursday then.” He smiled – he smiled – and made his way towards a black limo, where an older man dressed nicely opened the door for him.
You couldn’t help staring as the car drove away.
You were going to dinner with your boss. With Bruce Wayne.
Surely, there was no need to panic, right?
Turns out, there hadn’t been no need to panic at all.
In fact, things went great.
Dinner with Bruce had been surprisingly pleasant.
It started out a bit awkward, with you not really knowing what your position there was, but after Bruce reassured you there was nothing wrong with your performance at work, you relaxed.
And surprisingly, so did he.
He found himself conversing with you the way he hadn’t done in a long time – casually, truthfully, openly. Sure, he didn’t tell you all of the secrets he kept, but he was genuine in his answers about his favourite memories from his childhood, or his hobbies, what season he liked the most, or whatever other question you had for him.
It felt nice to have a companion who wasn’t merely interested in his name or title or wealth. You didn’t seem to care about those, preferring to get to know Bruce Wayne the man, as opposed to Bruce Wayne the name.
He asked you about your life and you replied truthfully as well, telling him stories from when you were growing up, sharing some of your hopes and dreams, and opening up about yourself.
Bruce thought you were fascinating – at first he thought the things people said about your kindness were just polite office talk, but after spending 20 minutes with you, he realised how true they were. You’d smiled at everyone on the way to the restaurant, letting an old couple go inside before you (even though you two had arrived much earlier), refused to ask for anything without a gentle “Please” at the end.
And he could tell you weren’t fake – he was often met with fake smiles and faux politeness everywhere he went, but he could tell you were genuine, and it just made him even more interested in you. After all, not only you were beautiful, with your hair carefully tucked behind your ears, and a fitting dress that, while modest, still managed to make you stand out, but you seemed to be beautiful inside as well.
By the time you got to dessert, you were laughing heartily, head thrown back as joy overtook you. Bruce had been telling you about the worst excuses he’d made to get out of social events, and the last few truly were something. You then realised he was not the man media portrayed him to be. No, he seemed much more down to earth, more focused, more sensible. Not at all the reckless playboy gossip magazines painted him as. It was a pleasant surprise, and you were enjoying every minute of your evening.
At the end of the night, he drove you to your apartment (more like gave you a lift, since his driver – whom you learned to be his butler Alfred – was the one who had taken you to the restaurant in the first place) and walked you to your door, like a true gentleman. You giggled and swayed a bit, having drank a tad too much of wine. You weren’t drunk, no, but you could feel that pleasant buzz flowing through your veins, the one that made you gigglier and happier and made everything a bit funnier.
Bruce steadied you by letting you hold onto his arm and caught you when you tripped on the stairs to your building. You laughed loudly and he pulled you up, allowing you to face him clearly. Your breath caught in your throat, and you giggled once more when you realised how close you were, and how you could feel the alcohol on his breath.
“I really liked tonight,” you said, nodding along to your words. You had been drinking, but you weren’t dumb, and weren’t going to ruin the lovely night you’d had. As far as you were concerned, this could simply be a dinner for him to try and get to know you better, and not anything remotely romantic.
His next words changed your mind.
“Me too,” he said. “I’m sorry if my invitation was abrupt. You’ll have to forgive me, but when I saw you working with Fox that day, I was curious.”
“Curious?”
��Yeah. Everyone said wonders about you, and you seemed like a great worker, and not to mention you’re quite beautiful – “
“You asked about me?” you giggled, covering your mouth with your hand. Somehow, that was the line your brain picked up in this whole conversation. “You’re a stalker!”
“And I apologize for that.” Bruce steadied you once again when you leaned back to laugh and let out a dry chuckle. “But I really enjoyed our evening. I was hoping that you’d accompany me to dinner some other time?”
You looked at him, eyes now getting heavier. The wine was working its magic, and instead of moving around, you stood very still, enjoying the feel of Bruce’s arms around you.
“Dinner? Some other time?”
“Yes.”
“Like a date?” You don’t know what prompted you to say that out loud. That’s what you were wondering, yes, but you weren’t actually going to say it out loud, too scared to face rejection, too scared that this whole thing was a misunderstanding, and he wasn’t interested in you at all.
Bruce looked at you, surprised by your forwardness. Not that he wasn’t thinking the exact same thing – he was – but he thought he’d have to be the one doing the pursuing. After all, he was the “stalker”, as you put it.
“Yes, [Y/N], as a date,” he nodded. “Like a date. As I said, I’m interested in you. I know it might not be appropriate, seeing as I’m your boss, but I won’t lie and say you haven’t caught my eye, and I would really like to go on another date with you.”
You smiled, hands resting on the collar of his coat.
“This was a date?”
He shrugged, “If you want it to be.”
You pretended to think, placing a delicate finger on your chin, and looking away.
“Hmmmm…. I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.” Playing the part, you stepped away from him and tried to climb the stairs to your building door. Unfortunately, your foot caught onto one, and the floor went flying on your direction.
Luckily, steady arms wrapped around your waist, preventing you from falling face first. Bruce pulled you to him once again, and this time he swore he could see all the specks in your pretty eyes. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you couldn’t look away. Bruce’s eyes fell to your lips for a brief second, and you followed his gaze, wishing he would close the distance between you too.
But Bruce Wayne might be a lot of things and do a lot of things – but he wouldn’t take advantage of you. Not right now, when the wine was clearly getting to your head. He was going to do this properly.
He pushed away from you and gave you a friendly pat on the arm. Upon seeing the way your face fell, he mentally kicked himself. Shit. It was the wrong thing to do, wasn’t it? He should’ve just kissed you. But you weren’t thinking straight. And he didn’t want to take advantage of that.
“Goodnight, [Y/N].” He said, offering you a smile.
“Why are you such a goddamned coward?” A tiny voice in your head asked repeatedly. Why didn’t you just kiss him? You had a great time, didn’t you? He said so himself. He called it a date. He wanted to go on another. Why were you always so scared of going for what you wanted? Why dint you just take the plunge and do what you wanted to for once in your life?
Shaking away your nerves, you stepped forward and planted a kiss on his cheek.
“Goodnight, Bruce.” You said, nodding in contempt and walking towards your building. By the grace of some god up above, you found your keys rather quickly and didn’t have to deal with the awkwardness that would’ve surely followed, so you just walked inside and closed the door behind you.
It was Alfred who had to break Bruce out of his trance.
“Perhaps you could take a picture of the building and take it with you, seeing as it is far too cold for you to stare at the real thing the entire night.” He said in a sarcastic manner, causing Bruce to stare at him and get in the car, but not without shooting one last look at the building.
He’d see you again for sure.
Things went smoothly after that.
You went out a few more times, and within about two months, he officially asked you to be his girlfriend. You accepted of course – after all, you were just as head over heels for him as he was for you.
You had to settle some boundaries for your office life to work out. You didn’t want anyone thinking you were shagging your boss for a promotion, or financial extras – not at all. So, you set some ground rules.
No PDA at work – this was rule number one, and it was the most important one. After you two started dating, Bruce found himself seeking you out more during the day, just to catch up or look at you (he was whipped). You’d noticed, and it was hard keeping yourself away from him. PDA was a big no-no. You two had to be professional and keep your personal relationship out of the office.
No pet names, no endearment terms, and minimal contact as it was. He’d once nearly gotten himself in trouble, having to switch from “My dear” to “Miss [L/N}”. It was tough and some employees looked at him funny, but he just walked away with his Wayne confidence, and no one said a word.
If you two did want to meet, it’d have to be after work hours, or during breaks, and in private. You would often bring him lunch, sit by his side in his office and just talk about your day and go over work stuff. He liked the privacy his office offered. He could have you in his lap, laugh about whatever silly reality show the Gotham gossip channels had on, and just enjoy some time off work.
No special treatment of any sort. This was very important. He couldn’t turn a blind eye to any problems you’d caused or any work you hadn’t done properly. Thankfully for him, you’d always been an excellent worker and he never had to reprimand you nor scold you. But he also couldn’t just praise you for every little thing you did – at least not at work.
It was hard, to say the least.
At home, you enjoyed being close to him, away from prying eyes, doubtful employers or clingy assistants who wanted his everlasting attention. And you could manage just fine at work as well – sure, you didn’t like seeing other workers drool all over him and beg for him to look their way, but you were also always far too busy to pay them any attention. After all, you had so much work to do.
But Bruce couldn’t say the same thing.
He’d go down a few floors to check on one particular project, or to supervise a series of workers, and find you busying yourself around with tasks, giving orders, keeping files in check, and turning in reports, and you’d look so great doing all of that. Efficient, hard-working. That’s what everyone had called you.
But then he’d see every other person had noticed the same. He could see the way other men looked at you, calling you over to ask questions and chit chat with you. They’d try to make you laugh, offering you charming smiles when they achieved so, and Bruce had to control every fibre in his being not to walk over to where you were and punch those smug grins off their faces.
Their games didn’t work on you though. You’d politely decline their advances, and declare you were taken, but some of them were too damn persistent. To those, you simply wished a good day and returned to your tasks. Something inside Bruce beamed with pride, and he would be lying if he said their upset faces did not bring him joy.
“C’mon [Y/N], it’s just one dinner. What wrong can that do, huh? I’ll take you to some place real nice,” a man in the same department as yours once pleaded, holding your hands in his. Bruce’s jaw twitched and you firmly moved away from him.
“Sorry Joe, I told you, I’m very busy. And even if I wasn’t, I have a very loving partner, and would never cheat on them.” Your voice was calm, but he could tell you weren’t comfortable with the way he touched you.
Joe scoffed.
“Some partner you have – you leave by yourself every single day. How come they never come pick up their missus, huh? If I had a girl like you, I’d come pick her up every day. What kind of douchebag leaves his girlfriend all alone? C’mon – one dinner with me and you’ll forgetting all about that idiot.” Joe moved towards you once again to grab your arm, but you moved away, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
“I told you; I wasn’t interested. And please do not touch me. Now, you should get back to work. Your monthly reports tell me you’ve been slacking, and I would hate to have to give you a warning.” You said firmly, raising your chin and gripping your clipboard tighter.
Joe scrambled for words, and you walked away. While brushing past Bruce, you could feel the smirk in his voice as he whispered “That’s my girl” for only you to hear.
But sometimes, he had to jump in and save you.
Well, perhaps save wasn’t the right word.
Because you didn’t need saving – he was just jealous.
You were taking a break from your weekly roundups, sitting at your desk, and chatting happily with your closest work friends. You leaned forward to whisper in a woman’s ear, and the both of you leaned back in laughter.
“Good morning, ladies,” a man in a nice-looking dark blue suit said, approaching the two of you. His blonde hair fell loosely over his eyes, and he did little to nothing to tame it.
“Raph! Hey – you’ll not believe what [Y/N] just told me,” your friend smiled, and “Raph” bent over to listen closely to what she whispered to him. He widened his eyes in surprise, before snorting in response.
“You’re kidding.” He turned to you.
You shook your head, biting the pencil you’d taken to your lips. Bruce had half a mind to walk over to you and claim your lips then and there.
“Nope. Saw it with my own eyes.”
The three of you laughed again, and Raph quickly looked around. He clearly did not notice his boss staring at them from across the room, so he pulled up a chair nearby and sat down.
You three engaged in lively conversation, and Bruce fumed at the sight of you leaning towards him every so often and giggling, bending over to whisper in his ear and touch his arm. Why were you so god damn close to him? Was there something going on between the two of you? Why the hell did he not keep his hands to himself?
Bruce’s patience snapped when he saw Raph take your hand in his and place a dramatic kiss on your knuckles. You looked at him and rolled your eyes, doing your best to pry your hand from his.
“Let go of me Raph, you’re absolutely disgusting.” Bruce noticed the way you smiled as you spoke each one of your next words, and something twisted in his stomach. A very ugly feeling that told him he did not like the way you seemed so close to Raph, nor the way he seemed to touch you so effortlessly. Why the hell was he touching you in the first place? Did he not know you were taken? He decided then and there this had to stop. This man needed to get his hands off you, right this moment.
“I’m serious – ugh – get off me, you’re sick! Get away!”
“I believe the lady has told you to let go of her hand.” Bruce’s voice echoed in the room, and nearly everyone stopped what they were doing to look at him. Your breath caught in your throat and Raph, who was sitting next to you, quickly stood up, brushing his suit.
“Sir – Mr. Wayne, I wasn’t – “
“Working? Clearly. Shouldn’t you be occupying yourself with your tasks at hand, other than harassing your coworkers?” The words left his mouth with venom, and he looked very angry – part of you had to stifle a laugh.
“Mr. Wayne, I promise I wasn’t harassing, I was – “
“Get back to your job before I do something about it.”
Raph shot you an apologetic look before scurrying away.
“Miss [L/N]?”
“Yes?”
“A word.”
You shrugged bashfully at your friend and followed Bruce. He led you away from your department, looking inside each passing room to find one that was empty. Once he found what he was looking for, he pushed you inside, locked the door behind you, and pressed himself against you, kissing you passionately.
A gasp left your lips before you returned his kiss, hands instinctively wrapping around his neck and in his hair. He licked your lower lip as if asking for permission, and you granted it with a soft whimper which he swallowed, hands deftly pulling your hips closer and closer to him.
When you broke away for air, you noticed how flustered he was, and how his lips and chin were covered in lipstick.
“What was – what was that for?” you asked, panting.
“Couldn’t stand to see that bastard all over you,” Bruce muttered, before moving on to press kisses against the column of your neck. You sighed in pleasure and ran your fingers through his hair.
“Raph is just a friend.”
Bruce snorted.
“Yeah, and he’s clearly interested in you. Idiot. Doesn’t he know you’re mine?”
At these words, you pushed away from him and burst out laughing.
“Mind explaining what’s so funny?” Bruce asked you, raising an eyebrow.
“Bruce,” you managed to say in between laughs, “Honey, Raphael is gay!” You kept laughing, staring at his dumbfounded expression.
“What?”
“Honey, he’s gay! We were talking about how I found his work crush sending dick pics to some random guy on Grindr!”
Bruce stopped in his tracks; brows furrowed in confusion.
“Gay?”
“Yes! He’s not interested in me silly – we’re just friends.”
“Oh.”
You resumed laughing, before adjusting your clothes and trying to wipe some of the lipstick off his face.
“Bruce, were you jealous?” you asked, cocky grin playing in your lips.
“No – I wasn’t – “
“Oh gosh, you were!” You smiled warmly at him. It was flattering, and you felt slightly bad for him. He had been worrying over nothing. “You don’t have to, you know?”
“They’re all after you. I know it.”
“They’re really not,” you replied, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. “And even if they were, I only have eyes for you. You know that right?”
He nodded, kissing you again.
“Besides,” you pulled away for air, fiddling with his tie. “If anything, I should be the jealous one. Every woman in this building is in love with you. And your personal assistant has tried not once, not twice, but three times bending over your desk, so you’ll look at her chest.”
Bruce shook his head, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.
“I couldn’t care less. I only have eyes for you.”
“Well then, you have to learn to behave. This is still my workplace, and I still have to interact with all of these people. And unless you want everyone finding out about us, you’re gonna have to learn how to deal with your jealousy better.”
He sighed, dropping his head to rest it on your chest. You smiled and ran fingers through his hair absentmindedly.
“I only have eyes for you, you know.”
“And I only have eyes for you.” He replied, before straightening up and fixing his hair and clothes. He looked at you for confirmation and you nodded, wiping whatever lipstick he had on his face, and fixing his tie and shirt. “Perfect”, you mumbled.
Bruce gave you a quick kiss and you walked outside. He’d wait a few minutes before following.
He really needed to work on those jealousy issues.
And he did!
Sort of.
He tried not to think too much about it when coworkers of yours praised and complimented you. “Hey [L/N], heard the turnover rates stabilised thanks to you! Good job!”. “Nice outfit, [Y/N]. Makes your eyes stand out. Very nice.”. “Hey, you saw this week’s morale reports? They skyrocketed – you’re too good at your job, we should all just quit.” It made his blood boil.
He tried not to think too much when your colleagues brought you any sorts of gifts. Coffee, when you were feeling tired, cookies or some other snacks when you were hungry, some even offered to go get you full fledged meals like salads or other dishes from the cafeteria just so you could keep working. You were so kind to everyone – it was only natural the ones around you reciprocated. And Bruce loved it – he loved that people recognised how generous you were, how downright good you were, and wanted to repay in kind. But it still made him somewhat envious.
So, he decided to take action.
One particular morning, he found you in your floor, working tirelessly. It had been a very stressful week, and you’d been far too busy to even visit him at the Manor or have dinner with him. He missed you. Missed your smiles, your laughter, your voice, your touch. Alfred was positive he was behaving like a child whose favourite blanket had been taken from him. It was endearing, yet also somewhat pathetic.
He approached you from behind, ignoring the surprised and stunned gazes everyone around you gave him. He embraced you from behind, dropping his head to your neck, and kissing you there.
You gasped in surprise, face covered in an expression of astonishment. What was going on? Was that Bruce? What was he doing here? And why was he kissing your neck? You were in the middle of organising a few very important reports and did not have time for distractions of any sort.
“Bruce – what are you doing?” you whispered, voice laced in shock.
“You’ve been working so hard, my love,” he said, intentionally loud for everyone to hear. “You should take a break.”
“Bruce, we’re working – we can’t – why are you – “ you had no words. No PDA, no nicknames, no special treatment. Why was Bruce breaking these rules all of a sudden?
“I missed you, of course. You’ve been exhausting yourself. Look at what I brought you,” he placed a cup of coffee on top of your desk, and you gasped. It wasn’t just any coffee; it was a very special brand that you only got one or two times due to how expensive it was. “You need sustenance.”
“Wow, Bruce, I mean, thank you so much, but you didn’t have to – “
“Of course I had to. Can’t have my beautiful girlfriend burning out, now, can I?” He lifted himself up and faced you clearly. He then proceeded to dip down and capture your lips with his, hand cupping your cheek and rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. He parted from you slightly, and whispered against your lips, “I couldn’t pretend anymore. Couldn’t stand being away from you. Screw everyone else. If they have a problem, they can come and talk to me. I’m the boss, after all, aren’t I?”
You looked at him through your lashes and offered him a soft smile. You couldn’t lie; you too missed Bruce, and it was getting harder and harder to pretend you didn’t know him at all. You gave him a soft tug on his tie and pressed another kiss to his lips. He could feel your smile against him, and it only made him smile in return.
Bruce then stood up, straightened his suit, and caressed your cheek.
“I bought lunch. Meet me in my office in two hours?”
“Yeah. I’d like that very much.”
He stole another kiss from you, causing you to chuckle, and walked away, as if he hadn’t just shocked the entire HR department to hell and back with his actions.
It didn’t matter.
They all knew you were his now.
Tumblr media
A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys enjoyed it! I love this man so much okay. And wish me luck, going to rewatch TDKR with the family. Yesterday we watched TDK and I don't think my family understood the sheer magnitude of that movie... 😔
Oh well! It'll be fun!
Once again, thank you very much! And please keep your eyes wide open, I have a surprise coming up for everyone!
Have an amazing day ahead!
484 notes · View notes
nightdivinity · 3 months
Text
Drink Responsibly: Chapter 1
Tumblr media
ABO!Vampire!Batfam x reader
Minors! Do! Not! Engage! +18 only!
Platonic!Alfred, Bruce x reader, Possessive! Batboys x reader
Warnings: Bad life choices, possessive behavior, a/b/o, they're vampires, loooong age gaps, no proofreading, reverse harem.
Writer's Note: I am so tired. I exist only because of caffeine and spite. So here you go, Chapter 2 is done as well. It will come out Friday hopefully.
Grey eyes stare into yours as you try your hardest to not squirm under the intensity. How did you get to be where you are? You have no clue. Honestly, there shouldn’t have been a callback. You should not have landed this opportunity for the second interview. The initial screening process should have weened you out in the first place.
From what you had gathered from the chatty chauffeur in the town car, (the town car! They knew you had no car to get to Wayne Manor, let alone to your job. Yet they still sent you someone to go pick you up from your ratty apartment.) This was all ordained by someone much higher than Mr. Pennyworth in front of you. The talk with the chauffeur had almost put you at ease until you looked out the window and saw the heavy iron gate open to Wayne Manor’s winding driveway. There’s no doubt in your mind. You shouldn’t be here. In more ways than one.
It made your bandages itch the more you thought about it. You couldn't scratch them like the feral animal you were deep down inside. At least, not when you're being as heavily scrutinized as you are now.
“I’m not sure you know what you’re getting yourself into my dear.”, the butler says.
“I want this job.”
He sighs then and reaches for the cup of tea sitting on the table next to him. When you got to the Manor, Mr. Pennyworth had met you at the front step. He still ushered you through a side entrance and a winding set of narrow hallways until you reached the sitting room you were now in. Not that you were complaining about being treated like a servant when you were trying to like hell to land the job.
If ever there was an excellent place to kill someone, this was it. You find yourself thinking as you look away from him and study the art on the walls. The manor itself was far removed from society and the small windowless study with the ornate crackling fireplace was oppressive as much as it was impressive. No one would ever hear you scream.
“The issue is not a matter of want. The issue is a matter of need.”, he says.
You watch him take a sip as a bead of sweat collects at the back of your neck. It was getting too hot in here, and the bandage around your wrist was itching.
“I need it. No one wants to hire me”, You reply.
You’re not sure what you expect after you say that. Half of you were expecting him to start grilling you like he did during your interview two days ago. That one had taken place in daylight, in an ostentatious conference room at Wayne Enterprise's.
You were still waiting for him to pick you to the bone and say, “Why is that?”. The other half feels like the admittance makes you guilty. Guilty of going out that night. Guilty of getting caught in a crowd surge while blackout drunk. Guilty of the infected thralls that were unleashed by the Scarecrow goons. Guilty of killing the infected that had started ripping you to pieces. Not that you remember any of it, frustratingly enough. No one, not even the news, gave enough information on that night. Why was I there?
“How are you doing dear?” Pennyworth asks.
You blink. No one has asked that yet. Not by anyone that you feel genuinely wants to know the answer.
“Good. Sore, and I believe honesty is the best policy. I can’t dance like I used to.”, you joke.
It falls flat in the cramped space as you give him a tight grin. His grey eyes dart momentarily to the crutch that was resting next to the chair, and to the cast going slightly above your knee.
“Yes, honesty is such an important quality nowadays. Might I say, it is fortunate that you survived.”
“No one else thinks that. I’m just thankful that Duke was there. I was told he was the one that got me to the hospital. Now he’s gone and got me this interview.”
It’s funny. Time from that night seems disjointed. While you were black-out drunk, you do feel as though you were only in the club for five minutes. The attack happened at 12:45 am. You remember waking up in the hospital and finding your chart on your way to the bathroom. It said you were admitted at 2 am. The next time you managed to grab it, it had said 12:59 am. Not to mention your wounds were healing at a faster rate than most Omegas. Something was picking deep inside your skull.  
 “Luckily this job is not strenuous if you are up to the task.”
You nod at him. You need this.
“Well, there are rather strict rules. Breaking them is a breach of contract that will be handled severely. This isn’t like a regular job out there. Any problems that arise will not result in a simple firing.”, he pauses before continuing, “For example, personal electronic devices are prohibited in the Manor. Your bags will be thoroughly checked by me upon arrival. You will be allowed devices that are monitored by security.”
“I can’t just be cut off from my family”, you protest.
“We don’t want you to. You may make phone calls during your allotted time off. They will happen here, or in Master Bruce’s office with either him or me in the room. Your predecessor was fond of skirting her duties and we have found the need for such restrictions.”
“While excursions are discouraged, they are not prohibited. We will go over those security measures at a later time. You are to be readily available when called upon at any time they require something. While day workers are employed here, at no point are you allowed to interact with them.”
You can’t help the way your brows furrow. This was going to be a long year if you were to take this opportunity. With each rule, you wondered if this was why the position was empty for so long.
“I tend to the bedrooms, and at no point should you enter them unless invited by the occupant. You will be given a room as well, and I would appreciate cleanliness. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are all served at the same time, tardiness is prohibited.”
“Will I be helping in the kitchen?”, you ask.
“No. Not unless you want to, if you are going to cook, please notify me accordingly.”
“So, wait. I’m confused. Just what is my job here?”
Alfred sighs and for the first time since you’ve met the prim and proper gentleman, he seems a bit haggard. Which did not make you feel good.
“It gets awful lonely here in the manor. As I’m sure you are aware, Alphas live for a long time. Particularly ones infected such as those in Wayne Manor. Now and then it is refreshing to have something that brings more life into such a place. The children have taken an interest in you, and that is enough for Master Bruce.”
“I’m not a toy.”
“No. You’re fortunately not. What you are being offered is room and board, all you have to do is adhere to the rules. In exchange, you have to be a friend. Surely you know how to do that”?
If he had asked your friend, he’d have been met with a resounding no. After that night you had found yourself crippled in the hospital with no friends to speak of. Your friend had been peeved, rightfully so, that you had just packed their wasted butt into a car with a stranger. You had been miffed because hello?? They weren’t the ones chomped on by a deranged rabid Beta. They had made it home in one piece, even getting past the front door and into their bed. Both of you had been wasted, so why act like it was all your fault? You were getting tired of the world treating you like you were the root cause of life’s issues.
“I won’t be doing any of that”, you ask.
Now he just looked downright uncomfortable. You were almost embarrassed, but the question needed to be asked. Being hired to be a friend to Alphas that were at least a century old likely resulted in you waking up in a bed that’s not yours.
“Only if you consent to it. You won’t be reprimanded for not doing it, or if you do find yourself in that position.”, he clears his throat, “Healthcare and dental is provided. Due to your circumstances as an Omega, blockers will be provided along with your daily vitamins. Your health and safety is paramount to us.”
You had nothing more to say. Silently you sat there, running through any alternative options, and yet you kept hitting a wall. There was no denying it, this was the best option you could be given. All you had to do was smile and nod and make it a year. By then you should be able to get your feet back underneath you and be able to reassess your situation. Who knows? You might just like it.
“I’m going to say, you have a deal”, you smile at him.
“Then please, call me Alfred.”
He gets up then and holds a hand out to you to help you out of your chair. His smile back is warm, creases folding up from his eyes, a drastic change from the cold persona that you had started becoming accustomed to.
“Shall I call for the town car Ms. (L/N)?”
This was the start of a beautiful friendship, you decided. You nod your head as he pulls you up and gives you a brisk but friendly pat on the shoulder.
“Duke, you don’t have to do this”, you protest.
It was the thirteen-hundredth time you’ve said it. When Alfred closed the interview, he had taken the time to walk you to the front door, pointing out so many rooms that it all went over your head. You almost made it to the front. Then Duke saw you and took over from there.
“No, no, and for the last time, stop. I want to do it”, Duke grins up at you.
He was on the floor, taping up the last of your boxes. You hate to admit it, but you’re not sorry in the slightest as he does all the heavy lifting. The best part about it was getting to see all the muscles in his back when he turned around. Yum. Hey, you were a red-blooded Omega. There were just some things you couldn’t fight.
“Be careful not to break that”, you warn.
“Right, because what will the world do without these little tchotchkes?”, Duke laughs.
Somehow, not surprisingly, he dodges the stray crutch that you toss half-heartedly in his direction. At this point, he was used to you trying to weaponize your “mobility aide”.
It all started when he helped you get back to your apartment, in a wheelchair that he bought. Then he abandoned said wheelchair and carried you bridal style up several flights of stairs. Citing that the elevator was too dangerous because it hadn’t been inspected in the past decade. Even ignoring you when you told him that it would be far more likely for both of you to fall to your death in the stairwell. This was all two weeks ago, and he still refuses to use the elevator.
He was on the floor now, humming and throwing your shit in boxes. You weren’t sure how he did it. When you agreed to the move, you had been internally wincing and panicking. Thinking it was just going to be you, hopping pitifully around the room. Probably taking breaks and reminiscing over the stray artifacts of your life. You would’ve needed at least three days max to get packed. Duke cut it down to two hours.
“Sooooooooo”, you draw out, “Tell me about the others.”
 “There’s not much to say, not a lot that I can either way. What do you want to know?”
Your eyes narrow as he turns weirdly evasive. He always got a little cagey when you brought up his adoptive family. Never quite answering the question.
“What are they like? Are they nice?”, you ask.
He pauses and stands, turning his back to you so he can put a box on the trolley. We’re going to take the elevator. You thought with a smug sort of glee at the realization. That means you’ll be in your wheelchair. See, you’re slowly reclaiming your independence. Sort of.
“Um. Cass is really nice, but you won’t see her often. Same with Steph. They both kind of do their own thing and no one lives at home besides Alfred, Bruce, and me. Though that might change.”
He pauses again. You stick your tongue out at his back only for him to whirl around to face you. Quickly you snap it back in and try to appear innocent as you stare up. Ew. Popcorn ceiling. You wonder for a second if you could have asbestos in your lungs from that.
“Dick, I mean Grayson, he oversees the training of the Alpha taskforce in Bludhaven. Jason avoids Bruce like the plague while doing the most to get his attention, and I can't really get into what he does for a living. You don't want to know. Tim lives and breathes at Wayne Enterprise’s various global sectors, some of the time, he’s the hardest to track. Damian has been somewhere in Pakistan. Where? I don’t know. I would avoid him and Jason if at all possible. Not that you'll likely see them."
You had to smother your cry of relief. This was going to be a lot easier than you thought. There were only going to be three people that you had to worry about. Maybe you were going to finally complete a New Year’s resolution now that you had time. The world was looking up for you.
“I think that’s it, are you ready?”
His question breaks off your train of thought. You can’t help but groan when he gets near you, arms outstretched, ready for a hug and humiliating you. To make matters worse, he says the worst thing possible.
“Up you go!”, Duke crows.
“No! To the chair! Put me down you overgrown bat!”, you say.
Thankfully he does, gently plopping you down in the cushy seat and stooping to ruffle your hair. You were hissing mad. Not that he cared. Just to goad you further, he reached over to the handles behind your back and rang the obnoxious little bike bell he attached to it.
“Run”, you warn him.
He laughs while sprinting with the dolly all the way to the elevator as you try like hell to mow him down. Both of you completely missed the way his phone kept blowing up with notifications, the small dings being mistaken for a bike bell.
368 notes · View notes
gojo-enthusiast · 6 months
Text
Kento Nanami ~
Wake Me Up
*Sleep Sex* MDI, 18+ Only! Kento wakes you up to a sweet surprise *😉* after working a long day fighting curses. Do not read if it triggers! Anyways, enjoy my first piece 😈
Word count: <2200
PSA: did not proof read, honestly I’m always horny for JJK men, so beware and stay tuned for more disgusting pieces. Also are we gonna talk about how fucking hot Nanami is in season 2???? Follow me on X (Twitter)
Like and reblog🫶🏻
Tumblr media
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You had stayed awake until midnight, taken your shower, exfoliated, & shaved.
"Ken should be home anytime soon" checking your phone seeing the time
6:00 PM
Getting yourself all prepped and ready for him to come home to a sweet surprise. You had been aching all day long, this morning he had been loving on you, slowly caressing your thighs, and right when he was going to put his hands into your heat, his phone starts ringing,
“Fuck. Who is calling me?” He groans grabbing his phone, “What the fuck does Satoru want.” He groans once again. Your husband was not one to cuss often, only when he was upset, (usually at Satoru) or when he was fucking you.
“What is it Gojo-San?” Nanami ask begrudgingly,
“Nanamiiiiii-“ Satoru says in a shrill
You didn’t hear all that was said, but the moment the called ended, your husband stood up and kissed your forehead.
“So sorry my love, but I have to leave. I promise we will finish what we started when I get home.” He says smiling faintly.
“Everything okay?” You ask, wrapping the sheets around you as he gets in the shower to get ready to leave for another day of killing curses. A job you hated so much, but you knew that him working his office job, was only making him feel suffocated, and had no meaning to his life.
“Yeah, just some curses. Nothing to be worried about. Satoru is out of town, I have to take the new kid Yuuji Itadori with me today.” He says washing his face, you see the bubbles of the soap form, and sink down his skin to the drain. You look down, and see his member hard as a rock, he looked frustrated.
“You sure we can’t fix that before you go?” You smirk, “Don’t tease me, or you’ll regret it later on.” He groans, you watched as he slightly stroked it in the shower, you watched, knowing he was about to burst any second. He wanted to fuck you right then and there, but he knew if he did, he would be late, and he wouldn’t stop. And then there it was, he had finished all over his hand, the water washing it off.
“Fuck. I wish that was in me right now.” You moan, “Get out before you tempt me anymore.” He says as he looks away from you. You do as he says, you already know how hard working your husband is, that’s why you spent the whole day pampering yourself, getting a facial, getting your nails done, everything that would make you feel and look done up. You knew how much your husband loved to see you all dolled up and manicured. I mean he didn’t work so hard for nothing. He always wanted you to be able to feel spoiled, and go definitely spoil yourself with his money.
But little did you know, your husband would be working overtime today. And you would be passed out by the time he got home.
Hubby🩵: Baby I'm running late today, I promise I will be home as soon as I can. I love you. - 6:02PM
Your husband is always home by 6PM, so you knew if he wasn’t, it was definitely something a little more serious. But you know your husband, he’s a grade 1 sorcerer, he will be home in no time.
As you lay in bed, watching some trashy reality TV, trying to stay awake. You look over at the clock
11:46PM
You feel your eyes getting heavy, the red wine you had drank during dinner finally hit you. And next thing you know, you’re cuddled under the blankets to a pillow, asleep, wishing it was your husband.
It was 1 in the morning, and Nanami finally made it home. Walking inside the house, feeling sluggish, and ready to lay in bed next to his wife, and feel her warmth.
“I need to shower.” He mutters to himself. He steps into the guest bathroom, which he usually does after a mission, because he doesn’t want to get your shared bathroom dirty. Washing off his day, feeling his muscles finally loosen up.
His phone rings again, it’s Satoru;
“What the fuck do you want Satoru?” Nanami hisses, “hey hey calm down Nanami-San, I just wanted to thank you for taking Yuuji, and taking care of those curses. Get some rest, and some ass. Ijichi told me how grumpy you were today. Take the day off tomorrow.” Satoru giggles to himself, “Was planning on it, now leave me alone.” Nanami says back, hanging up.
His phone beeps, showing that he received a text message,
Satoru Gojo: YOUR WELCOME, have fun😼
Nanami: 🖕🏻
Satoru Gojo: 🫶🏻
He finally turns his phone off, wrapping the towel around his waist, walking out the restroom down the hall, to your shared bedroom. He knows you’re asleep, there’s no way you stayed up this late for him. He walks into the bedroom, and your bottom half is under the blankets, while your top half is completely nude, and you’re sprawled out.
“Fuck, where is your clothes?” He mutters, feeling his cock stiffen, becoming erect. He climbs into bed, leaning in kissing your lips, then kissing your cheek, to your neck. “Damn it, I can’t do this while she’s sleeping.” He groans.
You had always told him how you would love to wake up to him in between your legs, but Nanami was such a “consent” man, which you loved about him, he was so respectful to you, and treasured your body, but you sometimes just wanted him to take charge and do something that wasn’t so good boy / gentlemen behavior. He remembered the conversation as he stroked himself next to you, “fuck it.” He says to himself, taking the blanket off your body.
Seeing your white laced panties, his cock at this point was throbbing. “Such a pretty little thang aren’t you?” He whispers in the crook of your neck, climbing on top of you, placing kisses down your neck, going down to your breast, starting the suck on your nipples. Placing his teeth in between your nipple, slightly biting it. Causing a moan to come out of you, while you were asleep.
“Mmm dreaming about me baby? You should wake up so you can catch the live action.” He says swirling his tongue around your areola and nipple. He started the bring himself down to your heat, sliding your panties down swiftly. “Oh how I have craved to taste you all day.” He says opening your folds with his fingers, gently placing his tongue on your clit immediately. He knew your body more than you did, and he definitely knew where you liked it the most. He quickens the pace of his tongue, sucking on your clit, you’re moaning in your sleep. Dreaming of your husband in between your legs, he doesn’t stop, wanting to taste your juices all over his tongue. He starts to rub his index and middle finger on your clit, rubbing it up and down quickly, as his tongue dips into your hole, tasting you deeply. Your eyes start to flutter open, and you’re moaning loudly now, seeing your husband in between your legs. “Ken-kento. What are you- what- ugh yes.” You try to ask what he’s doing, but he has no desire to respond back to you, his only desire is to make you cum over and over until you have melted into him. That knot in your stomach has finally snapped, and your finishing all on his tongue, he flicks his tongue up, tasting every drop coming out. “Ffffuuuuucccckkkkkkk” you groan bucking your hips up, practically humping into his face. “Yes baby just like that.” He says, still rubbing your clit, and abusing your hole with his tongue. He had one of your legs pinned down with his free hand. And the other one, was pinned down by his elbow, as he was still flicking your clit. As he continues to abuse your poor clit into overstimulation, you feel yourself about to bust. And there it was, exactly what he was wanting. You to squirt all over him, “KENTOO-!” You loudly moan, “stop, oh my god.” You cry out in pure ecstasy. You look up and see his face dripping with your liquid.
“Fuck, that’s so hot.” He says licking his lips, wiping his face with his towel. “Nanami-“ you pant, “yes baby?” He says, moving up to you, positioning himself to enter. “I missed you.” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck, as he brings his head down and starts to kiss you, sticking his tongue in your mouth. “I missed you too baby.” He kisses down your neck, sucking on it, leaving hickies all over. Because why not?
“I tried staying up,-ugh, Kento I tried staying awake.” You moan, as he starts to slide himself inside slowly, he was big, not only did this man have a long cock, but the girth was the size of a coke can. So he always had to slowly go in, never forcing himself in too fast. “I’m sorry baby I was late- ugh, today was so-fuck, - it was- so-s-so stress-stressful.” He moans, feeling your walls clench around his throbbing cock, he felt like he could burst at any moment possible.
“Damn baby you feel so so good.” Kento says finally pushing that last inch inside of you. Stretching you out at full capacity. “This sweet pussy has been on my mind since this morning. Can’t believe I went the whole day.” He pants, starting to thrust faster, “yes Kento, just like that.” You’re moaning into his ear, “fuck me baby.” You say looking into his eyes.
And that was it, that was the string that kept your husband in control, once it snapped, he and you were done for. Your pussy was about to be his flesh light. He starts pounding into you, kissing your G-spot with each thrust, you had came 3 times in the last 30 minutes from his cock alone. He kept edging himself, you knew he didn’t want it to end. He would fuck you fast and hard, and as soon as he felt like he was about to bust, he was slowing down. “Kentoooo- cum inside of me.” You moan out, “not yet baby, I’m not ready to finish.” He groans, feeling himself overstimulating himself. “Baby you feel so good. We fit perfect for each other. You belong to me, do you understand?” He says, you know it’s not a question, it’s a fact. You are his, and he is yours. And he will kill anyone who tries to get in between you two. He even thought about killing Satoru, for calling him before he was supposed to even be up getting ready to leave.
“Kento, I love you.” You moan into his ear, cumming again for the 4th time, “yes princess, cum for me.” He moans, finally about to reach his high. He’s pounding into you, with no desire to stop. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes-yes, I’m gonna cum in you, princess.” He whimpers, groaning in your ear, “yes baby, cum in me.” Your moaning, and that’s when he finally does, shooting his hot cum deep inside of you. Feeling your chest go up and down. The sweat from his forehead dripping down.
“Damn, that felt amazing.” He pants, staying on top of you, not yet taking himself out of you. “It was.” Your panting in union with your husband. “I just showered too.” He laughed, finally rolling off of you, pulling you to him, to kiss you.
“I’m sorry I was so late today, today was long.” He sighs, kissing your nose. “That’s okay baby. I understand.” You say nuzzling your head into his sweaty chest, not a care in the world.
“Princess, let’s take a shower before bed. I’ll change the sheets when we get out.” He says lifting you up, seeing his cum drip from your core. “Fuck that’s so sexy.” He whispers to himself, caring you to the shower, turning it on.
“Princess?” He looks at you, as you step in the shower,
His cum is dripping down your thighs, and your cheeks are red. He felt his cock twitch in excitement, I mean you guys usually go a couple rounds, so what would hurt if you both went again.
“I know you’re tired, and I’m tired. But, I’m going to need you to bend over and hold the shower rail.” He says, you look over and you see his cock rock hard again.
“Yes daddy.” You smirk, you silently thanking the universe you told your husband to give you head while asleep. It was going to be an exceptionally long shower & long night.
615 notes · View notes
beastofburdenxo · 1 month
Text
Consider It Done
Tommy kidnaps his biggest enemy's daughter as payback. But, things aren't always what they seem.
Allusions of violence, mention of abuse, no smut.
Tumblr media
You woke up in what looked like a dreary basement. Your throat was dry, and your head felt funny. All you remember is just walking down the street and having a wet rag being shoved over your face from behind. Assuming that it was chloroform, because you were knocked out immediately after that.
You hear a door being opened and someone walking down the stairs. For some reason, you dash into a dark corner, thinking that it was going to save you. An oil lamp is turned on, illuminating the space and the man before you. "There you are love, glad to see you up and alert." A cigarette is lit. "Would you like a smoke?" You ignore the question altogether and respond with one of your own. "Who are you? Where am I?"
"My name is Thomas shelby Love, but you can call me Tommy. I hate meeting like this. It's nothing personal, really, just business. Your father owes me money and isn't taking me seriously, so I did what I had to do."
Your eyes bug out at this information. Of course, your asshole father has made another enemy. And the feared Tommy shelby, the devil of small heath, at that. "And you think taking me will loosen him up? He'd rather die than give up anything of his. To him, people are replaceable, money not so much. I'm sorry that you put in so much work to get me, but honestly, he's probably glad I'm out of his hair."
"Is that right? What a shame that is." Tommy draws off his cigarette. "Such a pretty thing, kidnapped and taken to the devil's mansion, thrown in a basement never to be seen again. Surely he loves you more than that, dear."
"The man killed all of my pets when I refused to marry one of his gross friends. He has burned my clothes before, locked me out of the house. Trust me, Tommy, he doesn't care. He has never liked me and I don't know why."
"You are like a wild horse that can't be broken, and your father can't stand it. You won't bend to his will like most and from where I'm standing, it's like you are his enemy and not his daughter. I'd take it as a compliment. If he liked you, that would mean that you two are similar. I have no desire to harm you, I'll behave if you do. Give it a couple of days, and if he doesn't budge, you are free to go. I'll even give you money for a ticket anywhere you want to go."
You think for a moment. "So you don't want to hurt me? You'd rather help me out?"
Tommy nods, "I see a lot of myself in you. In fact, you promise to be good, I'll let you out of here and into the house. Take it as a mini vacation, time to think. If your father does pay up, you'll still get that ticket out if you'd like. Regardless of what he does or doesn't do, it won't affect you."
You reach for a cigarette, and Tommy obliges. "I can't just leave my mom alone with his ass. He's mean to her too, Tommy. He needs to pay for his sins sooner rather than later."
Tommy chuckles, "You'd make one hell of a peaky blinder. Fiesty and headstrong. Are you looking for a new job, perhaps?"
"Tommy, I'm serious," you reply, "I'd say my mom would give anything for him to be gone. If you took care if it, you'd get your money and then some. It would have to be discreet of course."
"Kidnap victim asking her kidnapper to put a hit out on her own father? That's a new one for me, love. It does sound tempting, I will say. Never had much use for an abusive wife beater."
You stand up with a new sense of purpose. "Either you do it, or when I get out, l will do it myself!"
Tommy comes towards you like he's going to grab you, but he stops himself from touching you. "No, I can't have that. There's no need for an innocent to have blood on her hands. If you aren't successful, he will kill you, love. He won't think twice about it."
Tommy finally reaches out and gently stokes your face, "I don't want the fire to go out of your pretty eyes. Killing a man does that to a person, and you don't deserve that. If you want it done, consider it done. Consider yourself a partner in this and not a helpless victim. My only wish is that once this is all over, I can see you again. With permission, this time, of course. Let me do things the right way. Dinner?"
"Kidnapper asking his victim to dinner once she is released? That's a new one for me Tommy."
You take the cigarette from his mouth, since yours is long gone, and take a drag as if to think about it.
"Consider it done."
229 notes · View notes
samkerrworshipper · 6 months
Note
After seeing the pics of alexia at the Barça basketball game could you do one where she is finally playing the wag role for reader? Just overall enjoying being readers number one fan
on the sidelines
alexia putellas x reader
just a lil fluffy blurb that i wrote in half an hour… defo no proof read or spell checked so sorry in advance xo
desperately working on getting some more reqs out for y’all but i’m so overhauled with coursework that it’s taking me way longer so sorry if your request gets ignored as of rn mid terms are killing me ☠️
Tumblr media
“A triple double, Y/n, one incredible feat, how do you feel knowing that your team is through to the play offs?”
You were buzzing, still coming down from the endorphin high as you tried to focus on the reporter who had been the first to attack you as soon as you’d finished shaking hands with your opponents, not even giving you the opportunity to leave the court.
“Every game is a team game, I’m obviously wrapped, but half of that wouldn’t have happened without my teammates. I’m obviously elated that we’re through to finals, the job starts now for us, everything we’ve worked for this season falls down to the next few weeks so we work hard, it’s not over until the final siren.”
The reporter smiled at you and you gave your signature smile back to the camera, trying to get this over and done with as soon as possible.
“The modesty is appreciated, but how did you feel about coming second in the league MVP poll earlier in the week?”
You bit down on your lap, it was a rude question, but you had been prepared for it.
“Obviously I would have loved to come home with the trophy, but it wasn’t meant to be. I have so much respect for Stewie and she deserved the award just as much as anybody else who we were contending against. Honestly, I couldn’t give two shits about individual awards, what matters to me is this playoffs series and maybe I can bring that trophy home instead.”
You smiled once again at the reporter and camera, slowly becoming more uncomfortable with the conversation the longer it went on.
“Now, we all have some questions about the trip down under you took a few weeks ago, any particular reason you decided to go home?”
You began to haphazardly fiddle with the microphone in your hands, willing for this interview to conclude so you could just enjoy your win.
“I missed home, the few days that I spent their were really nice and the team can tell you that since then I have been in much better spirits, sometimes you just need a reset and it was just really good timing that we had the two week break.”
The reporter smirked at you and you could feel the underlying question under her smirk.
“So nothing to do with your visit aligning with the World Cup final and one particular Spanish player who’s here tonight, sporting your number?”
You felt your face flush a little bit at the unforgiving blatancy of the reporter, very quickly trying to remember everything they’d taught you about avoiding questions in media training.
“A good friend of mine, Sam, extended the invitation and gave me some tickets to the finals games so how could I refuse? I mean the sheer pride for the Tillies that I held watching them progress was insane, nothing better than seeing women's sport be elevated at home.”
You could tell the reporter was nagging for you to answer the part of her question that you were ignoring.
“So just a coincidence then that you happened to spend a few days in Barcelona on a layover before returning back to New York?”
You bit the inside of the cheek, this wasn’t what you’d been expecting after winning one of the biggest games in your career.
“Are you implying something, Jackie?”
Your eyebrows rose in mock sarcasm, trying to laugh off the situation and make the reporter understand the message that this wasn’t something you wanted to talk about.
“Simply wondering whether you had anything to do with the presence of Alexia Putellas, or as we all know her, La Reina at tonight's game, and if she happened to be the person you were looking up at tonight everytime you scored?”
You shivered at the mention of her name.
“Alexia and I are good friends, and I will leave it at that.”
You smiled at the camera, enough of a smile that it was genuine but not enough to lead anybody on, because that wasn’t what you wanted to do, you wanted to leave them hanging.
“Good friends that wear each other's jerseys to each other's matches?”
You smirked at the camera, the annoyance of this situation slowly getting to you more and more.
“Good friends that just don’t pack enough of their own clothes when they visit.”
Your voice was dismissive, enough to tell the reporter that you weren’t interested in broaching the topic any further if she wanted to continue to have a conversation with you.
“So, quite the comeback you’ve made in the past 48 months, double back surgery is certainly an impressive feat, how has it felt returning to the court this season and competing at the same level that you were before your injury, especially after how the injury resulted in you sitting out the bronze medal olympic match?”
You could feel the sweat across your body starting to go cold, a true sign that you’d been talking for far to long.
“I’m obviously feeling great, better than ever really. Sitting out at the Olympics was devastating, obviously but I promised that I’d be back and here I am, I’m still working on my recovery, but hopefully by the time the olympics roll around next year I’ll be back fully and bringing home some hardware.”
The reporter laughed heartily at your weak joke, an action that made you a little woozy.
“I’m sorry but that’s all the questions I’ll be answering, my coach is getting rather antsy on the sidelines and it would do me some good not to annoy her right now, so I’ll have to wish you all a goodbye, and see you later for the playoffs.”
You sent a kiss towards the camera before handing the microphone and headset back to the filming crew before following your coach over to the sideline and then into the tunnel towards your change rooms. Sandy patted you on the back as you made your way back to the rooms, just consciously quickening your steps a little bit so you could make the distance as quickly as possible.
You’d never liked limelight, or any of the media attention. You’d started out playing country basketball with your siblings, out on the court all throughout the middle of summer. Eventually, after joining a club and playing some juniors you got picked up by the Perth team and then had worked your way upwards, but never had you played for the attention or glory, growing up, womens basketball in Australia was severely underappreciated, so you’d never had to really face any media attention. But the WNBA was a whole different ballpark and you were still adjusting after 6 seasons to the amount of ways you were now exposed to the general public.
Your whole body relaxed when you spotted Alexia standing beside the locker room door, hand in her phone, flicking furiously through it. You ran directly towards her, almost bowling her over with your strong strides.
She wrapped her arms around you almost immediately, allowing your to bury your head in her neck as you breathed in the scent of her, and the scent of one of your spare jerseys sitting comfortable across her muscley arms and chest. It was a sight for sore eyes, one that you’d been waiting far to long to see.
“I fucking hate reporters.”
Alexia snorted at you, it wasn’t often that she got to see you after games, both of you having extremely busy schedules that hardly allowed for time to go and watch each other mess around with a ball on a pitch or court for an hour.
“I know bebita, but you did so well.”
She concluded her statement in the very best way possible, plastering a series of kisses all over your face that made you giddy on the inside and had you pushing her off of you. The tunnel was a fairly safe place from reporters, but you could never be too sure who was creeping around and a part of you didn’t need your relationship being revealed right at this moment.
Something about having your number across Alexia’s chest set a fire in your soul and you stepped back from her embrace to take it in, to take in the sight of her standing in front fo you, her perfect shoulders on show, sitting comfortable beside the jersey. A few of her back tattoos peaking out from her shoulders giving you a indescribable view of the ink. Her collection was constantly growing and you swore every time she returned to you there was a new one for her to show you and tell you the story of.
She had paired the jersey with a plain pair of white jeans and her washed out pink hair was sitting comfortably on her shoulders, the strands being pushed out of her face by the Prada sunglasses sitting comfortably on her head, sunglasses you were certain had absolutely zero purpose besides being an accessory. You did have to admit that the pink had been your favourite hair in a long while, in fact you’d been the one who Alexia had convinced to help with the dye when she had one of her midnight crisis’ that had you marching down to the chemist to buy neon pink hair dye to make your girlfriend happy.
“I like it when you’re the wag.”
Alexia rolled her eyes, spinning around to give you a look at your brandished last name, sitting perfectly between the valley of skin that travelled between her shoulder blades, everything about it was so perfect to you, warming your soul from the inside.
“I do have to admit, it was quite fun sitting in the crowd for once and pretending I knew what was happening.”
You chuckled, you’d been trying your very hardest to teach Alexia the rules of your sport from the start of your relationship, and to her credit she had a grasp on the more basic rules, but she was absolutely shocking at much more than that. She watched every single one of your games, and yet she had absolutely zero grasp on how the sport of basketball actually worked.
“Look at that, La Reina admitting that she enjoyed being a wag.”
Alexia rolled her eyes at you, her hand coming to rest on your sweaty arm, providing some pressure to your forearm.
“Don’t you even think about telling any of the Barca girls, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
You smiled down at Alexia’s hand, loving the way that her body slotted in so perfectly with you, she knew your body like the back of her own hand and knew exactly what parts of you she should touch in different situations.
“Don’t you worry your little head, this will be our little secret, at least until the girls find my post game interview.”
Alexia nodded concedingly, it was inevitable that your relationship was eventually going to come out to the public, neither of you were particularly stressed about it, it would happen when it happened. You’d gone three years without anybody catching on, only now heading into the fourth year were people really starting to recognise the relationship.
“Go shower, you stink.”
You let Alexia push you towards the locker room door, her face nose scrunching up in faux disgust at you.
“Yes ma’am, La Reina, ma’am.”
The older woman once again rolled her eyes at you, but couldn’t avoid your own hand reached out to hers, silently tugging her into the locker rooms with you. It wasn’t irregular for teammates partners to end up in the rooms after games, and you knew that Alexia would just end up waiting alone in the hallway for you whilst you went about your post game routine.
You lead her towards your cubby, seating her down on the bench before reaching down behind her and pulling out the few items of clothing and toiletries you needed for the shower. One quick look down at Ale revealed to you just how in awe she was of what was occurring around her. There was nothing special happening, most teammates doing similar things to you and beginning their post game rituals.
“Mi amor, I’m going to the shower now, just stay here, bien, and don’t hesitate to ask anybody for something if you need it, si?”
Alexia nodded at you aimlessly, her eyes darting around the room as she took in her surroundings, You took the opportunity to dip out of the room and into the showers, hastening your normal routine so you could return to her as quickly as possible.
You showered in record time, washing your hair and body so quickly you were certain you almost got whiplash from the jolting of your arms and muscles in every direction and you frantically moved around in the shower.
When you returned to Alexia she was in the same spot as you’d left her, her eyes still searching the room and taking in everything happened around her. It was cute to see her so out of place, it was something you’d never seen on her before and something about seeing her like a deer in the headlights made you fall so much further in love with her.
“Cãrino? Let’s go, yeah?”
Alexia’s eyes flashed up to meet your own, her lips falling to a genuine smile as she stood up from your cubby, and before you could pick up your bag she took the honours, collecting the things that you knew you’d need back at the apartment and piling them into your bag before sliding it over her shoulder and starting to walk out, her arm falling comfortably over you shoulder as the two of you met each others pace, walking out towards your car that Alexia had driven you to the game in.
She took care in placing your bag in the boot before sliding into the driver's seat, your keys clanking in the ignition as she started the car.
Almost as soon as she was pulling out of the stadium Alexia’s hand fell to your thigh, a comfortable reminder of the footballers presence.
“You played so well today bebita, I was so proud of you.”
You smiled waterily at Alexia, it was one thing for a reporter to tell you, but for the woman you loved most in the world to tell you that meant something else.
“Thank you, but don’t act like you knew what was going on.”
Alexia cocked her head to the side, frowning at you a little bit.
“Si, maybe, but you got the, what did they call it again? El triple doble, no? Marta said it’s kind of like a hat trick but in basketball lingo, you sunk muchos tres.”
You smiled at Alexia, nodding your head at the Spaniards lack of knowledge over the game you cared for so much, and her attempt at trying to talk basketball to you.
“Yes, I did score a few threes, all of them were for a special person who came out to watch me today.”
Alexia smiled at you, turning her head at the lights to look at you.
“Mm, who might that be?”
You bit your lip, breaking out in a big smile.
“She’s Spanish, and not very good at understanding basketball but she tries and that’s all that matters, she also looks really cute in teal.”
Alexia’s smile only grew at your admission.
“Oh, and she’s a pretty good wag if I do say so myself.”
Alexia silenced your words with a sweet kiss, pressing her lips to yours softly, the two of you having to break apart when the light turned green.
“I’d watch you any day.”
Alexia’s words were murmured quietly, an almost silent acknowledgment of her feelings that was meant just for you.
“I’d watch you any day as well mi amor.”
814 notes · View notes
half-bakedboy · 21 days
Note
blurb about tommy coming to check up on buck after he gets choked by the crazy person from next week's promo
Tommy has to stamp down his worry before he walks up to Buck’s door. He’d only gotten the short story from a coworker who’d heard from a former partner that a firefighter on the 118 had gotten himself into trouble again. 
Unfortunately, Tommy was immediately certain who that firefighter was. 
When Evan opens the door, there’s a huge smile on his face, and it’s almost enough for Tommy not to poke fun at him. 
Almost. 
“You know, when Hen, Howie, and Eddie warned me about your propensity for getting hurt, I didn’t think it would happen this quickly.” 
“Not you, too,” Evan groans. Tommy lets out a laugh as Evan turns to walk away, leaving the door open behind him. Tommy takes a few quick steps in after him, knocking the door shut behind him while grabbing Evan’s waist with his fingers. “What—”
“C’mere,” Tommy mutters. 
He told himself that he was going to do his best to take it slow with Evan, try not to scare him off with too much too soon, especially when he found out he’d never dated a man before. But he’s so pretty and pouty when he turns around, that Tommy can’t help but kiss him. 
Evan is quick to respond, eagerly and enthusiastically, like a puppy with a new toy that’s turning into his favorite. It makes Tommy’s skin tingle and his heart flutter with pride. He’s always so responsive in his movements, taking each second to let his lips and tongue study while his hands explore the planes of Tommy’s body he’s never experienced before. 
When Tommy pulls away, it’s because Evan winces. Tommy tilts his head and glances down to see where he might hurt. That’s when he sees his fingers pressing against a soft red irritation around Evan’s neck. He feels fire rush through him, an anger he hasn’t felt in months, maybe years at this point, at the thought of someone hurting what’s his. 
He pulls his hand away when he realizes he’s still causing Evan discomfort, but doesn’t stray too far. Evan is looking at him like he wants to say he’s sorry, like it’s his fault someone hurt him, like Tommy is going to run away from it. 
“Evan, what happened?” 
Evan chuckles, rubbing at his raw skin even though it must hurt. 
“You’ll never believe it. This guy, like, couldn’t control his limbs? Hen said it was some form of immediate onset Ataxia or something, but because I put myself too close, he got a hold of my neck. It was honestly so funny cause the rest of the shift, they told everyone I’d been ‘ataxia’d’ which spread like wildfire—all puns intended.” 
Everything he said was so nonchalant. Like, the fact he’d been strangled on the job wasn’t cause for deep concern. Tommy is, in fact, very concerned. 
“Did someone look you over? Tilt your head up,” Tommy requested. 
He placed two fingers under Evan’s chin and began the process for him, crouching down slightly to look for petechiae underneath his chin where most EMTs didn’t think to look. Tommy glares when Evan tries to push him away, and the other man relents almost instantly. 
“Hen already checked me out. And then Chimney. And then Eddie,” Evan reassures. “I feel fine. Mostly embarrassed that I let a patient get the better of me.”
“He didn’t get the better of you,” Tommy argues. “He had a medical crisis that could’ve killed you.”
“But it didn’t, okay?” Evan says sternly. Tommy knows that tone and decides he’s better off dropping the argument and taking care of the obviously shaken man before him. 
“It didn’t, but since I’ve heard that this isn’t your first rodeo, I thought I’d come with your usual comforts.” 
He grabs the bag he’d dropped in his haste to enter the apartment and holds up a movie, some store-bought brownies, an aluminum takeout container of nachos, and a case of his favorite beer. Evan’s face softens like nothing kinder has ever been done for him. It’s a beautiful look, one full of appreciation and fondness that Tommy wants to bring out of him for the rest of his life. 
“Now, the movie is my pick: Blue Thunder. The fact you’ve never seen it is an atrocity that has to be rectified immediately. Over beer, nachos, and brownies, of course.”
“I could kiss you,” Evan says. 
Then, a gleeful look passes over him like he realizes that he can kiss Tommy, so he does. 
(They start the movie much later than either of them intended with soggy nachos and lukewarm beer, but honestly, neither of them would have it any other way.)
211 notes · View notes
freemansgirl · 8 months
Text
video games
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: amber freeman x fem reader
genre: smut
words: 1.4k
summary: you ride amber as she plays dead by daylight after she had a rough game to make her feel better <3
warnings: cowgirl position, g!p amber (she has a dick, dont read if you dont like it) p in v, praise kink.
a/n: this smut based on a new nsfw hc i added to my dating amber hcs! got too carried away w the daydreams in my head and wanting to put it in fiction😵‍💫 pt 2 will be on the way soon 😘
Tumblr media
“shit, (your name).” amber moaned out, as your hips grinded against hers. her dark brown eyes were looking so glossy, struggling to keep focus on the game in front of her. the way you were riding her made her feel like she was seeing stars, you were doing all so good for your beloved girlfriend, amber. she loved seeing your hips clasp around her hard dick, each leap was getting stronger than the last one. amber found her eyes shifting from the game back to you, the distraction of you riding her was getting to her now.
honestly, she could use the distraction, she was loving it so much. this all started when you started to palm her dick and touch her through her pants to feel on her clothed dick, it went from you giving her a sweet blowjob to now you were just riding her. before this had even happened, amber was having her rough days of when she played dead by daylight, which was pretty rare since she was so skilled at the game. however, last game, was an awful match for her, the survivors were way too good and they were getting generators done, no matter how hard amber worked to stop them when playing as ghostface. seeing her rank go down due to the lack of rank progress, it pissed her off so bad.
it made her want to get off the game so bad and just call it quits for the day. to make matters worse, the survivors were sending her hate messages and she sent them threatening messages back, threatening to kill them or just sending their ip addresses, just the usual. typical amber stuff when she gets mad. you hated seeing her upset, so like the good girlfriend you came up with some amazing ways to just make her feel better. you wanted to give her a “good luck” charm for her next game, so she can win to make up for her last game. the riding did a good job at relaxing her nerves and keeping her so calm from the anger she had earlier.
your arms were wrapped around her pale neck, as you threw your head back in ecstasy. you were moving your hips up and down in all of the right rhythms, just for amber to let out even more low groans. your walls were throbbing as you were just pushed your clit more and more inside of her dick. the more you pushed yourself onto her, the more you could see her dick disappearing. your wetness being on top of her dick was just adding more to the lubrication, your pussy was sliding in and out so easily with her. you start to kiss all over her cheek to her neck to add more affection to your girlfriend for her good efforts on the game.
“damn, baby, you’re so….. tempting. you make me wanna quit this game and just take you on my bed, right here and now….” amber expressed, her voice dripping with lust and horniness. even though she liked the challenge of seeing if she could stay focused on the game as her girlfriend fucks her, she wanted you so bad. the way your pussy just feels so good and your cute moans just drives her insane. as much as she wanted to improve her rank progress from last game, she wouldn’t hesitate to risk it all just to fuck you. this was just so attractive to her, why didn’t she even make the suggestion of you ride her when she has her bad days on dead by daylight sooner?
“nuh-uh, ambs, eyes on the prize. do good on this game first, then you can fuck me, okay?” you requested in your sweet, charming voice as you left a soft kiss on her pale cheek. as if you were some type of siren that sung her a hypnotizing song, she immediately listened to you. this would make the challenge even better. the palms of her hand on the controller were starting to grip harder than usual, fighting the urge to not grab you and throw you against the bed. amber’s self control was something that she struggled handling, she always had the higher sex drive between the two of you in the relationship.
she caught herself looking off of the tv screen and back at your breasts presented in front of her. she bit her lip just looking at them, they were just such a blessing to look at. amber definitely wanted to give those some special attention too, once she finished the game. you looked at your girlfriend with such a playful smirk on your face, trying to hold back a laugh. “focus, amber.” you grabbed her chin with your left hand to turn her gaze off your breasts back to the screen.
“fuck…” amber groaned, her black eyebrows furrowed, while she slightly moved her thigh to add friction since she couldn’t do anything because she was playing the game. she couldn’t wait to continue round two in the bed once she was finished with this game. she had hooked 3 survivors, all of them dead, while she searched for the last remaining one that looked for the hatch to escape the match. “you like that, baby?” you whispered, lightly squeezing her shoulder with both of your hands to ground yourself as you continued riding on her.
“yeah, you’re doing amazing, all for me, baby.” she breathlessly groaned, enjoying all of your movement on top of her dick. she felt herself close her eyes for a split second just out of pleasure. “just wait ‘til i kill this fucker and i’ll win the game. i’m going to fuck you on the bed as a celebratory win.” she added to her words, her eyes were still glazed over while looking at the screen trying to look dwight, the last dead by daylight survivor in the match. the idea of her getting to fuck you as a way to celebrate winning the match after the god awful match she had earlier, motivated her to search long and hard for him. she could feel herself getting close to release, her facial expression was getting screwed up.
“better hurry up and find him, babe.” you seductively spoke, ending your statement with a petty laugh. you started to hop more and more on her dick, your ass just bouncing on her hips with so much pressure. to add more sensation and pleasure, you changed your tempo in riding on her. at the new change in speed, amber could feel her dick just wrecked with how fast you were going on her. she could feel her hands getting sweaty around her controller from all the arousement the riding caused and from the pressure to win the game so she can fuck you.
the more your pussy was just taking her dick, she was honestly close to cumming. amber knew that all too familiar feeling too well, she could feel her dick getting ready to release. just as soon as she was about to cum, she finally found the survivor. she killed dwight using ghostface’s mori in the game. the sight of dwight being pulled up by ghostface with his hair from behind while he took a photo of him with a camera. it was now visible on the screen. “gonna fuck you just like this, baby…” she grunted, when she felt another one of your hard thrust come onto her dick. you didn’t even need to turn around to see what scene she was talking about, you knew your ghostface fanatic girlfriend too well.
with the idea of her fucking you like the image on screen stuck in her head, amber immediately climaxed right inside of your pussy. she felt her whole body get relaxed as she shoots her cum right inside of your pussy, your entrance was creamed with her dick. you stopped moving, while your body was rising up and down out of exhaustion from riding her so much. so many sounds of inhaling and exhaling of your breath escape from your lips.
you were about to get off but you noticed that amber took her left hand off of her ps4 controller to grab you instantly. she looked up at you with the most seductive smirk ever, her dark brown eyes were filled with lust and mischievous intentions. “let me turn the game off first, baby. there’s no need to rush.” she reassured you, while putting her left hand back on the controller to turn off the game system. amber now puts the controller down on her nightstand, next to the tv. she starts to lift you off her dick and grabs you by your hips, pushing you gently to the bed with her hands. next thing you know, she’s on top of you and things lead to another, leaving you two to a wonderful, sexual evening.
942 notes · View notes
wheatnoodle · 10 months
Text
i love you, evangeline
og post | p1 | p2 | p3 | p4 | p5
~🌷🌻~
“so,” dustin says around a mouthful of french toast that has him spewing crumbs everywhere, “can i ask about…y’know…you becoming…you?”
“yeah, sure. ask away. we didn’t do secrets before this,” evie freezes briefly as she grabs a napkin to give him. her face cringes slightly. “sorry about that, by the way.”
dustin flaps the napkin to wave her worry off. “dude, you could literally get killed if you tell the wrong person.”
“way to remind us,” robin rolls her eyes over her coffee mug.
“anyways!” evie cuts in with a clap of her hands. “your questions?”
“oh! right. i wrote them down,” dustin says and pulls out his phone to open his notes.
“he wrote them down,” robin repeats sarcastically under her breath, earning a snort from evie and a glare from dustin that has her raising her hands in surrender.
dustin takes a sip of his orange juice and clears his throat. “okay. did you know before you left hawkins? how did you figure it out?”
“yeah, i knew before i left. i think right around when the whole…vecna thing happened was when i really understood what was up,” evie nods thoughtfully, “like, i always felt…different? or just lost, i guess. and then with starting to find words to put to my feelings, like transgender and dysphoria, it started to feel like maybe i wasn’t so weird. robin and i went shopping and tried on like skirts and stuff and that was wild. and then i started thinking about all the girls i had dated and what that meant, and honestly, i think i wanted to be them rather than be with them.”
“so if you didn’t want to be with them, are you gay? or…i guess straight? like you like dudes?” dustin asks, his brows drawn as he listens.
“y’know, i haven’t really thought too much about it but…yeah,” she shrugs. “i guess i’d say i’m straight since i like men.”
“cool,” he nods with a smile. “damn, so even as a girl, you and robin still won’t date.”
“oh dude, i was struggling helping her out with everything after her boob job. i swear, i was no better than a man,” robin says across the table.
“she wore an ace bandage as a blind fold,” evie laughs, tossing her head back. dustin giggles as he watches robin pick up the newspaper to smack evie with, her cheeks bright red.
“is it only robin and now me who knows?” he continues along with his questioning.
“you two and my dad’s secretary since he didn’t feel like answering the phone. she congratulated me, by the way,” evie smirks at the end. just picturing her dad’s face if he were to hear the news. the rage, the steam coming from his ears. screams that could be heard blocks away as he throws another lamp. and his loyal secretary of 8 years has already congratulated his daughter and told her how happy she is for her. robin high fives her every time she gets to mention it.
“damn! i cant imagine how much that took for you to cal him. nice work,” dustin smiles proudly. “would you ever want to tell more people from hawkins?”
she’s silent for a minute. it’s something she didn’t think she’d ever consider doing. and yet, she can’t outright say no.
“i think so. someday. i hope.”
“i could…ease them into the idea so it’s less of a shock? just like…gauge where everyone’s head is at in regards to transgender individuals, give you two updates, see where to go from there?” dustin suggests with a shrug. robin’s brows raise under bangs. now that’s an idea she hasn’t had yet.
“that sounds…good,” evie nods confidently after a second, a new smile blooming on her face. robin cheers from her seat and throws her arms in the air. “just be subtle! don’t walk in all ‘hey guys, how do you feel about hypermasculine jocks from small towns turning into women who wanna be barbie?’.”
“oh no, you stole my plan word for word,” dustin rolls his eyes. “no shit i’ll be subtle. it’s a shame a side effect of estrogen isn’t intelligence.”
“don’t forget i’m hosting you,” evie warns with a pointed finger.
“yes, mom,” he sighs heavily, “okay, you can stop me if this is too far. you said you got your boobs done, did you get…like…the surgery? like the surgery?”
“not too far, honestly. yeah, i got it about…a year ago, actually! ahh happy birthday to me!” evie claps excitedly.
“does it work?”
“DUSTIN!”
~
“i just don’t get why he hasn’t said anything. he said he would update us what she’s like, i mean c’mon, he’s the first one invited over! the first one allowed over! he promised to text when he got there, what if something happened? did everyone die? him and robin are silent! nobody answers their texts!”
“eddie! will you please just stop? dustin is fine and i am sure he isn’t wooing your fairy princess, love of your life, big stupid crush, ms evangeline,” gareth groans. he’s laying upside down on the couch in his and eddie’s apartment, curls dangling to the ground. it’s been forever of listening to eddie gush about robin’s roommate and now it’s just even worse with dustin staying with them. the least eddie could do is stop pacing in front of him, he’s making him motion sick watching his legs go back and forth.
finally, eddie flips down next to him with a heavy sigh. he takes a long swig of his beer, effectively draining half of it down his throat, before just staring at the ceiling.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. you’re right. everything’s fine. plus, it’d be pretty fucked of him to go flirt with her when i called dibs.”
“you can’t dibs a woman-“
“yeah, yeah, shut up.” eddie lightly kicks at gareth’s shoulder. he sighs again, his finger fiddling with the wrapper on his beer bottle. “…do you think he’s mentioned me?”
“that’s it, i need a knife.”
~🌷🌻~
taggie waggies:
@lololol-1234 @xo-r4e @paintsplatteredandimperfect @homohomohoe @charlies-candid-corner @tartarusfairy @howincrediblysapphicofyou @steddie-as-they-go @bestwifehaver @sexymothmanincarnate @zoeweee @romanticdestruction @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @breadboi66 @shadowofaliar @mollymawkwrites @lofaewrites @estrellami-1 @ronance-is-my-wife @afewproblems @heartsong18 @discount-izukumidoriya @mightbeasleep @bookbinderbitch @justforthedead89 @onehandedbitch @anxiouseds @sunfloweringstories @cyranyx @thegingerrapunzel @hequet @herebedragons404 @magpiemuseum @scheodingers-muppet @the-ghost-in-your-curtains @background-noise-headache @steddieloverrr @punctualhowell @musical-theatre-gay @its-a-me-a-morgan @chronically-stupid-human @stevesbipanic @says-swag-unironically
648 notes · View notes
hugshughes · 4 months
Text
mad woman N. Moyle
Tumblr media
Nolan Moyle x fem!reader
synopsis - Nolan is back in the place you two fell in love, and he can't get you out of his mind.
wc - 2.5k!
contains - UNEDITED SORRY!! cursing, NO HAPPY ENDING!(between Nolan and reader, I don't leave my readers sad you know that), um asshole!nolan as fuck, MAD WOMAN BY TSWIFT?????, um yeah i don't know, BAD BITCH!READER (you go girl), hints at future!frank nazar x reader (YOU KNOW I HAVE A HARD TIME HELPING MYSELF!!!!!!!)
an - hey y'all....... im not deceased!!! um yeah HOPE U HAD A GOOD HOLIDAYSSSSSS. some of this I couldn't tell, if it was funny or cringe so don't hate me. I don't loveeeeeee this but whatever. Frank is so cute SOMEONE REQUEST HIM ;))) anyways love u hope you enjoy!
-
what did you think i'd say to that? does a scorpion sting when fighting back?
Nolan felt weird. It was the first time he was back in Ann Arbor since leaving for China in the summer. He was stopping to see the boys and watch a hockey game before going back home to New York.
It was the first time he'd been in Ann Arbor since you broke up. The breakup was rough. There had been a lead up for weeks before, all you did was argue. You couldn't understand him, or anything he was doing. When you found out he was going to move to China, you felt like that was him saying you weren't important to him. He didn't seem even slightly upset about having to leave you, and when you were hysterical over it, he just called you crazy.
they strike to kill, and you know i will. you know i will.
When you realized Nolan wasn't going to be anything but indifferent about the situation, all you felt was rage. Maybe you were crazy, you felt it.
Nolan had been your boyfriend since you were a freshman, and he was a junior at Michigan. You dated for almost three years, and then he threw you to the side. Now you were interning in the athletics department at Michigan while you finished school, and you were talking with your supervisors about a job opening after graduation, so you were sticking around in Ann Arbor for a while longer.
It was honestly embarrassing the way you tried for you two, while it seemed he couldn't have cared less. The boys felt bad, they'd known you their whole college careers, you'd help them through losses, comforted them, cared for them. You were the best female influence they had while at college.
They hung out with you all summer, trying to include you in all of their activities, because they knew what you were going through. They loved Nolan, and they loved you. You didn't make them feel like they had to choose, and Nolan really couldn't even if he wanted to, being on the other side of the world from all of you.
You were still in Ann Arbor, along with the boys because they still had hockey games to play before they could go home for winter break, and you worked with the hockey team in the winter, so you were sticking around as well.
what do you sing on your drive home? do you see my face in the neighbors lawn?
Nolan couldn't get you off of his mind as he drove through the small Michigan college town. He saw you everywhere. You were the only person that had stuck around with him while most of his friends left to the NHL over the years. You could tell at the last moments of your breakup Nolan was jealous, he was jealous of people like Luke, who was leaving from their loss in Tampa straight to Boston to sign with the Devils. He had always dreamed of it, but had just not come close enough.
China would take him away from it all, a new place, as far away as he could be, because it did hurt to look at all the guys he captained, knowing they'd go on to do greater things than him.
He deflected what was going on in his head to you. He accused you of being crazy, and envious, and insecure, but it was him. He felt so shitty about himself on the inside that he threw it all to you.
does she smile? or does she mouth, "fuck you forever"? every time you call me crazy, i get more crazy.
Nolan was being suffocated by the overwhelming sense of you, that Ann Arbor held. Every corner, every road, every stoplight.
Nolan pulled into a parking spot on the side of the street, unbuckling his seatbelt and turning the car off. He sat in the empty car for a few minutes. Would you be there when he walked into the dinner the boys had planned? He knew they were really close with you, seeing as he stalked your and their Instagram profiles often.
He didn't know if the guys would do it to him. He also didn't know if they knew that seeing you would affect him so much.
You knew Nolan was invited to this dinner, but you didn't really care. You'd met your peace with him over the summer, at least in your mind, you were happy. Single life had been treating you well, you were prioritizing yourself, your friends, your family, and your career and it was a perfect balance for you.
what about that? and when you say i seem angry, i get more angry.
You'd always loved the idea of working for a sports team, specifically hockey. You'd been the daughter of the Minnesota Twins physical therapist since you were born, so seeing the behind the scenes of major league teams was always exciting for you. You'd gotten your first opportunity to work with sports teams in high school, when you had an internship with a smaller hockey team in Minnesota, and since then you'd loved working with hockey. It was how you met Nolan, interning with the Michigan team your freshman year.
You were already on your second drink when you saw Nolan walk into the restaurant. Seeing him left a pit of red hot anger in your stomach. You just looked away from him before he could catch you and kept talking to Luca. Maybe the anger never left, you didn't care as long as the love you had for him did.
and there's nothing like a mad woman. what a shame she went mad.
You chose not to acknowledge him, and he understood why. The last time you talked to him, you were screaming, crying, completely confused as to why he didn't love you like you loved him. You didn't understand how after committing three years to him, he could throw all of it away without a second thought. He probably had someone. Someone he could entertain halfway across the world.
You both ignored each other, deciding it best not to talk. You knew that it wouldn't end well, the rage sitting in your chest would release itself the second you said a word to Nolan. You both drank, a lot. You partially because you wanted to get your mind off of him, and partially because Luca was challenging you to go shot for shot with him.
Nolan was embarrassed before you two broke up, and he still was, sort of. Then, he was embarrassed because he felt like he wasn't talented enough to lead his team that was chock-full of NHL prospects. Now he was embarrassed because he had realized what he let go when he let you go. And obviously all these boys could tell he had lost a good one, because they all loved and admired you so heavily.
Nolan wasn't exactly good at handling emotions like embarrassment and insecurity, since being raised on "men don't cry" mentalities. And when he was so full of these unfamiliar feelings, he took it out solely on you.
And it made you crazy, like completely batshit. You were head over heels for Nolan, had been since the day you met, and when he flipped on you, you didn't know what to do.
no one likes a mad woman. you made her like that.
Nolan was drunk. Anyone in the bar could tell you that. He didn't always handle his alcohol well, either. His eyes locked onto you, all the way down the long table full of people. You were currently talking with some of the media girls, discussing the upcoming Monday video, thinking of question ideas.
Drunk Nolan was mad you weren't paying attention to him. He always wanted your attention, while you were together, and now. He started talking, rather loudly, about you. He was saying how you were crazy, and controlling and that's why you broke up. It was because he was drunk, but that didn't mean it was okay. You heard your name, and your head snapped to the side, staring Nolan down.
"No, she's a crazy bitch! Y'guys are lucky you haven't tried somethin' with'er, she's like the bossiest girlfriend ever. Like, like when we broke up, she was just beggin' me to stay and like wouldn't let me break up with'er!"
You were seeing blood red. None of that was true. You let Nolan do whatever the fuck he wanted during your relationship. He was the possessive one.
and you'll poke the bear, 'til her claws come out.
Most of the table was staring at you, those who weren't were staring at Nolan in bewilderment. No one believed him, they had witnessed your relationship. Some of the guys were telling Nolan to shut the fuck up, knowing you were angry.
You stood up, going to the end of the table Nolan sat at. You stood on the opposite side of the table, between Frank and Nick's seats.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Nolan? Do you really need my attention? It's pathetic, to talk about me like this, especially while I'm sitting right fucking there. We get it, you're not as fucking famous as you were here in China, but you don't have to bring me into your attention seeking."
and you find something to wrap your noose around. and there's nothing like a mad woman.
Nolan saw this as an opportunity. He knew he was getting you angry, he was thriving off of it.
"See? She's crazy!"
Adam slapped Nolan over the back of the head, telling him to shut up again, looking at you with wide eyes.
"It's alright Adam, you don't need to stop him from being a bitch. Anyways, Nolan, you calling me crazy is laughable. You were the one that didn't let me wear shit! The one that got mad when I went out with my friends!"
Nolan started to turn into an angry drunk guy. You were saying true things, all of that happened through the duration of your relationship. Nolan was getting embarrassed, again. He look around the table, his eyes catching on the one person likely on his side. A media girl in her junior year at Michigan. In her two years on the team with Nolan as a part of it, she'd had a crush on him, and made it clear to you and him. He turned back to you, ready to say something that would hurt you deep.
now i breathe flames every time i talk. my cannons all firin' at your yacht.
"It's your fault I was like that, I had to worry about you whoring yourself out to everyone."
You could've jumped over the table and strangled him. Frank grabbed your hand under the table, being the sweetheart he was. You squeezed his hand back, thanking him silently. You knew Nolan was embarrassed, and jealous that you were over him, when you obviously occupied his thoughts.
"You have to be kidding me."
they say, "move on." but you know i won't.
"She's not worth it Nolan."
A bitchy little voice came from down the table, every head snapping to look at the girl who'd said it. Of course, it was the one that wanted Nolan down her throat while you two together.
"Alright babe, just because you're feening to get in his pants doesn't mean you're apart of this conversation."
She gasped, many of the people at the table let out laughs, including the other media girls, leading the girl to turn in anger at them and shout out them to stop. You laughed hard, watching her try to blubber out insults at you.
and women like hunting witches too. doing your dirtiest work for you.
"It's obvious that you're both obsessed with me, and I understand, trust me."
They both got angry, starting to let out insults at you, but they were just funny to you.
"You two are gonna be very happy with each other, you can think about me together."
Watching them get angrier and angrier with you was so funny, objectively. You turned to Frank next to you, who was laughing, hard. You mouthed, 'I'm scared' to him, making him laugh harder.
it's obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together.
You stepped out from between the chairs, letting Frank's hand go, moving to grab your jacket, wallet, and phone from your spot, walking back to where you were when you gagged Nolan and media girl.
"Well I'm leaving, you two have given me enough entertainment for one night."
You left the bar, giggling to yourself as you pulled out your phone on the walk to your car. You saw one of the girls texted you, reading, 'mr obsessed is going out to see you WALK SLOW ;)' You knew who she meant, Frank. He'd had a little crush on you since he'd joined the team, in age, he was only a little over a year younger than you, so it wasn't weird or anything. You thought he was super cute and he was a lot more thoughtful than Nolan had ever been, even though he wasn't even your boyfriend, you'd never even entertained him, but he was still kind and caring towards you.
i'm taking my time, taking my time, 'cause you took everything from me
You looked behind you, stopping when you saw none other than Frank Nazar jogging up to you, you smiled brightly at him.
"Hi Frank."
He smiled, laughing as he said hi. He told you he wanted to make sure you got to your car safe, of course he did, he was a gentleman. So you let him walk with you, laughing about what had taken place in the bar. When you got to your car, you got in but talked to Frank through your open window for over ten minutes. When you told him he should go back to get out of the freezing weather of Ann Arbor, he nodded and agreed, but didn't leave.
This kid would probably end up being the death of you, with his smile and pretty hair. When you finally got him to head back to the bar, he was physically shivering. You smiled warmly to yourself as you sat in your car for a couple minutes, thinking about the whole night. Seeing Nolan be such a dick confirmed everything you'd thought about him over all the months, so it felt like you were really able to let go. Move on.
watching you climb, watching you climb over people like me. the master of spin has a couple side flings. good wives always know she should be mad, should be scathing like me, but no one likes a mad woman. what a shame she went mad, you made her like that.
220 notes · View notes
spacebarbarianweird · 3 months
Note
Hi there, I had this fun idea - while the tinkerer class isn't playable in BG3, can we pretend for a while that it is? You know, Tav and Astarion both showing middle finger to all the gods... Tav can even help him with his condition. Some gadget blocking the sun, artficial blood, stuff like that. Honestly, the of them being this steampunk couple of a vampire rogue and Tav with enhanced crossbow or a gun has made my day. So - do you have aby headcanons about that?
OR perhaps Astarion and an Alchemist who likes to trick people too if that makes you happier? 😉
You are the first to request Artificer! People forget this class since it's not in the game, though, it's official. But some DM believe the Artificers bring unnecessary steampunk vibes.
There is also some naughty, to say the least, stuff, let me know if you want more of this.
Masterlist
Headcanons
Astarion x Artificer!Tav
In the realm of magic, you are that bitch who brings a gun to a knife fight.
You construct machines and mechanisms out of nothing, enchanting them with unique techno-magic,
Armour to withstand necrotic damage? A healing helmet? A prosthetic hand? A full-time "living" creature, a Nimblewright?
There is nothing you can't do with your crafty hands.
Things are complicated in terms of love.
You are more interested in cogs and gears rather than dates and sex.
You've tried once and it was a huge "ugh".
Virginity is wasted for nothing.
So, you've also learned to make sex toys but it's this side job you pray no one will ever know about.
But customers are never unsatisfied though you sometimes get in trouble.
Mostly, the owners of local brothels try to accuse you of lewd misconduct.
You are finally tired of all this shit and decide to move places.
And the mindflayers take you.
You easily escape, making small machines out of debris to help you survive this madness.
You construct armor, and you enhance swords.
Magic sucks, behold the science!
Astarion makes moves to you, successfully seducing you.
And let's say, none of your inventions have ever satisfied you the same way this troubled vampire does.
You think you are in love. And you believe he is, too.
But later he confesses to you that it was a lie.
He used you. And he is sorry.
You are heartbroken, at the very least. You feel used.
You break up with Astarion, leaving him alone in his misery.
But it doesn't mean you want him to suffer - you kill his master, secure his freedom.
When it all ends, he starts burning alive - running to the shadows, like a rat chased by cats.
You feel bad, especially when you hear vicious mockery from your friends.
But you fail, losing his track underground.
That night, you cry.
The thing is, you've never stopped loving him. You were just too stubborn to admit it. Besides, gods, Astarion tried to be honest for the first time in his fucking life.
And you punished him for opening his heart.
What a vile creature you are?
Half a year later, you meet him at the party.
Astarion looks happy - he is an adventurer and a hero, living his life to the fullest.
And he tells you something that makes your heart stop.
"I wonder if we could be together after all, you know. But it seems like you have a new life, and I am happy for you."
You take his hands in yours and ask him to go somewhere private.
Then, you apologize. You say how much you've missed him and that you love him. And you want to be together.
Instead of an answer, he hugs you.
"There is nothing I want more," he whispers.
In the morning, you leave together to find a place that fits both of you.
Living with Astarion is worth of effort, but sometimes it's almost unbearable.
His nightmares, his breakdowns.
You wonder how tf he survived on his own all these lonely months.
You open your artificer shop in Neverwinter, and Astarion becomes a professional monster hunter.
Thanks to you, he doesn't need to hide in the shadows.
You make him a cape that creates a field protecting him from the sun. The eye lenses to make his eyes green.
You also learn alchemy - first, to make potions to ease his nightmares and anxieties.
Later, you make them to satiate his hunger.
Your crafty hands also come in use in healing his sexual trauma.
Astarion craves intimacy, he wants to enjoy sex. He just can't make himself undress and make love to you.
Problem solved - he can fuck you with a toy you've constructed while being fully dressed and in control.
You also use some of your inventions on Astarion, helping him to reconnect with his own sexuality.
One day, he pins you to the bed, making love to you without any extra tools.
It's been such a wild night that your neighbors "politely" asked to install soundproof shields.
You keep learning alchemy, making more and more potions, and one day you finally get your answers.
There is a way to make Astarion mortal without interfering with dark magic or soul-retrieving pacts.
Science, bitches.
Astarion is hesitant. He is eager to drink any potion you make, but being transformed back into a mortal is very extreme.
You ask Astarion to bring him test subjects.
He drags you a deranged vampire, one of the most miserable Cazador's victims - completely insane, almost an animal, that was hunting in the dark caves.
And it works.
The deranged vampire turns into a deranged mortal. But mortal.
Astarion takes the potion, but, maybe, it's because of how long he's been a vampire or because he's an elf, he doesn't turn immediately.
He falls to the floor comatose.
He stays like that for a month, a terrible and long month when you think you've lost him.
One evening, you hear a strange sound.
Breathing.
He breathes in his unconsciousness.
You put your hand on Astarion's chest.
Heartbeat.
You did it. You cured him.
He wakes up with you on his chest, dizzy and exhausted with some memory gaps.
Piercing you with his natural green eyes.
--
Tag list
@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe 
204 notes · View notes