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jake-g-lockley · 1 year

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di im having frankie x desi!reader thoughts :""""""D

like imagine him and you being invited to a wedding and you're part of the wedding party so you don't get ready with him and even though the both of you are engaged he's never seen you in a fancy ass lehenga before so he absolutely freezes when you walk past him, in your element, tying jasmine onto the brides hair and you see him and bonus if before you both leave you adjust his sherwani pin and THE MAKING OUT THAT ENSUES MY GOD IM YEARNING SO BADLY RN

Asian Ting in a Lehenga (Frankie Morales x desi!reader)

Masterlist

Warning: kissing + hot Frankie, swearing Word count: 1k

A/N: tell me that this robe wasn’t just a sherwani and that the ovary or blood vessel I just burst was worth it. Short drabble based on this ask by @brekkers-desigirl and damn my brain literally can't handle this omggggg

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Frankie frowned at his reflection as he ruffled his hair, attempting to tame it down a notch before leaning against the wall furthest from the crowd as he waited for you. The deep mustard sherwani that was detailed with suns you had bought for him made him look like a prince but Frankie had always been one to not like the spotlight on him. He sighed as he looked at his watch for the umpteenth time, waiting for you to make your appearance.

To call you his fiance was a great gift and he loved your family, your culture and whatever made you the beautiful woman that you were. You were quite literally the apple of his eye and no one on this big blue Earth even comes close to you.

As the sister of the bride, you had taken your position as the maid of honor very seriously, making sure that everything was planned down to military precision, which Frankie also was very proud of (and slightly turned on by). Frankie absolutely enjoyed the whole of yesterday, watching you order people around while he trailed around you eating and feeding you tasty Indian sweets, his mouth set in a dreamy grin that earned him buckets of laughter from your relatives.

Frankie’s thought bubble burst as he caught your distinct sweet perfume. Before he could call your name, you quickly brushed past him to rush up to your sister. Frankie’s mouth dropped to the floor as he freezes, his eyes scanning your form as you held up jasmine flowers while yelling at your sister. Frankie had never seen you in Indian clothes before and he swore that you had exceeded his expectations tremendously.

Your lehenga was the same shade as his, decorated with similar sun patterns and its long skirt cascaded down your body as though you were a goddess draped in sunshine. Your hair was worn in a half up and half down hairstyle with long beautiful tendrils framing your face. You were pinning the extra flowers onto your sister's hair while Frankie’s eyes were pinned onto your gorgeous skin that peaked between your blouse and skirt. Frankie made the mistake of moving his eyes slightly upwards, gazing at the low neckline that adorned your blouse and he felt a warm swirl of dizziness settle in the pits of his stomach.

He reached out for you and you moved, causing your dupatta to latch onto a bead at the cuff of his sherwani. He mindlessly followed you as your dupatta clinged onto him like the last ounce of his sanity. He watched your hips move almost fluidly and he couldn’t take it any longer, his arm reaching out to grab you and pull you close. You gasped and let yourself be pulled into his chest as he turned you to face him.

“Frankie…” you breathed, scanning his face as your face lit up in a smile, only for it to fade once you caught the look that graced your man’s face.

Once your brain had regained its functioning abilities, you wordlessly stood a little straighter and tipped your chin upwards, freeing your arms from his grasp. Frankie dropped his arms to his side and dipped his head.

Fortunately for Frankie, you had other ideas.

You curled a finger under his chin and tipped his face up so that his eyes met yours. You stare for a while, admiring the way he had shaped-up his beard and the way the sherwani settled beautifully on his broad shoulders. You dropped your hand to the collar and adjusted his sherwani pin before pulling him close, until your mouth grazed his ear.

“Bride's changing room in five, pretty boy.” you said, before leaving Frankie to stand there open mouthed as you quickly rushed off to settle your sister.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The second you had opened that door, you knew you made a small error in choosing a lehenga with such a low neckline. You clamped your eyes shut as you were pulled into a hasty rush of yellow, big hands grabbing onto your hips and dragging you further into the room.

“Look at me, amor.”

You opened your eyes to only have them flutter close as Frankie traces a line along your exposed abdomen with one of his fingers, before pinching you softly, making you gasp.

“Francisco!”

“I did tell you to look at me.” he shrugged as he smiled down at you.

“Fine, I am now, what are you-”

Frankie cut you off by pulling you close and kissing you fiercely, the fury blinding you to the point that you felt like blacking out. He pinched you again and licked into your mouth when you groaned and pushed his straying hand away. You slid your hands into his curls as you deepened the kiss, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you flush against his chest. His lips were warm against you before he suddenly pulled away and nipped at yours, causing you to moan a little too loudly for your liking. He pulled you in for one more kiss before leaning his forehead against yours and exhaling heavily.

“Fuck, you look delectable, mi diosa.” He says, laughing at how delirious he felt, tugging at your skirt.

“Nuh, uh, that's enough, big boy. We’re going to be late.” you said, shaking your head at the way Frankie’s fingers grip your skirt and the way he dipped his head to your neck for some soft kisses.

“A goddess, that's what you are, and you are mine.” he said into your neck.

You love the effect you had on him, but you had a wedding to run. Frankie groaned softly as you pulled his hands away from your skirt.

“I’ll let you have your way if you behave.” you said, wondering if the compromise might put his thoughts on hold.

“Fine, but I don’t think I ruined your make up enough.” He said playfully, swiping his finger on his lips to show you the lipstick you left on it.

“Now you understand why I didn’t get ready with you right?” you said, patting his face.

“We would have never left the room and I would have been fine with that.” he huffed as you laughed and kissed him on his cheek, happy with your oversized troublemaker.

Tagging: @romanarose @mintpurplemnm @swiggy-needs-mental-help

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blush-blush-love · 1 month

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Ek Dil Ek Jaan

Warnings: THIS IS A SMUT SO MINORS DNI OR I'LL HAUNT YOUR DREAMS

Sypnosis: Vihaan Shergill(Uri: The Surgical Strike) X Fem Character.

"V-Vihaan....." you whimpered in his ear, knowing the effect of your whimpers damn well. Especially when you kept teasing him. Making sure to look at him as you fix your blouse. Giving him naughty glances.

Vihaan deeply inhaled your scent before sucking that spot of your neck again, hands traveling everywhere. "Fucking hell" whispered Vihaan with eyes full of desires, looking right into your eyes. Cupping his face, you tiptoed to kiss him. Vihaan leaned in and pressed a wet kiss into your feverish lips. You moaned into the kiss, your fingers gently scratching his neck, giving him slight goosebumps.

"Vihaan ko call karo, abhi toh yahan tha". Both had to break apart from the bliss when you heard someone asking. You both broke into a fit of giggles.

"Major Shergill, kabu mein raha karo" you said with a smirk, fixing your saree and obviously hiding that mark with your hair. You pat his shoulder, him furiously blushing and sighing at his boner.

Hey yall! This is first time writing smut so suggestions are open! Hope you liked it<3333

#mandakini.writes💅🏼.#Desi smut #fem reader #smut #x reader #desi tag #desi aesthetic #desiblr #desi imagines #Uri smut #desi smut #desi couple #desi tumblr #desi fanfic

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hum-suffer · 5 months

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Accha ye sab chhodo

Who will be interested to read a oneshot fanfiction of the YouTuber I've been recently obsessed with?

Pre relationship, best friends to lovers, how dare you insult her, roasting as love language and dates on ghats with kullad chai, existential crisis AND a good sibling relationship—would be the tags

#desiblr #suffer ye suhana nahi #desi tumblr #desi fanfic #fanfiction #youtube #the youtuber is Lakshay Chaudhry fyi

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cynic-spirit · 2 years

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Crash and Crush - I

Slow burn.

Let me know if you want to be tagged.

summary:

A search for a man leads Walter to find love in an Indian Girl. (Walter is single in the story, and Faye is his sister)

Walter marshall x desi reader, Walter Marshall x Indian Reader

“So you are just going to go there, without any regard for what is happening and just conduct a search? Just out of a hunch”

Thomas has been arguing with Walter for over five minutes about his intentions to crash a garba celebration in search of a suspected two timing informant.

“If it helps me catch a criminal, yes I will, and they have such long functions anyway? Who has celebrations lasting a week” Walter is adamant.

“Walter, it’s an Indian celebration of their goddess. The customs are different. If you had gone to our friend Raj’s wedding last year. you would have known and maybe by mistake, enjoyed!”

“Forgive me if I don’t want to go amidst large crowds of overdressed people and noise”

“Look Walter, if you have such a strong hunch, I’ll come with, but please lets keep it low, lets go thre move about and come back, we don’t have to ruin someone’s big day”

“Fine”

Walter had been following an informant Jay, who gave wrong information, which caused their team to just run into an ambush unprepared. Walter had been pissed since this ambush had wounded two of his team members. To say he wanted to catch and punish this snitch was an understatement. He had been pursuing any and all leads that would help him capture this guy and find out who the culprit is in reality. This time, it was taking both Walter and his so called partner to an Indian wedding happening in the outskirts of their city.

“Well, here we are”

The place was beautifully decorated with flowers and lights. They could hear some music from outside. People inside were dancing.

“How do you want to go about this?” Walter asked skeptically.

“well, we go in, we know how he looks, lets look around quietly, someone like Jay would definitely stand out, even in fancy clothes”

“all right”

Both Walter and Thomas, enter the venue, which was beautifully ornated with lights flowers. Inside there was a large floor where people were dancing in circles and around it was sitting area in an elevated platform. Walter was scrutinizing everyone when his eyes went still on someone on the dance floor. No it wasn’t Jay, Walter wished he was, but she was a tall, dusky beauty dancing along with others, without a care in the world. Her outfit showed her bare midriff, dangling earrings, and a skirt, that flowed like clouds, everytime she twirled. Her hair was tied up in a long braid that reached her hips. Her hands were covered in more jewelry that Walter didn’t not what to call. He just couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He felt his heart beat faster and legs taking him to introduce himself to her when suddenly he heard his friend,

“walt, he is not here, lets go”

Walt was suddenly brought out of his trance. He bit his inner lip, fisted his hands and left the breath he didn’t know he held. He blinked his eyes and looked at the beauty one last time before turning to his friend and said “yeah lets go”

#henry cavill #Walter Marshall #walter marshall x ofc #desi reader #desi fanfic #walter marshall x indian ofc #walter marshall x Indian!reader #indian reader #nighthunter

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manincaffeine · 5 months

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i like girls who specialize in looking innocent and sweet while having the darkest most fucked up thoughts imaginable

#desiblr #desi tumblr #txt post #desi academia #txt #dark romanticism #dark academia #intimacy #writers on tumblr #spilled words #artists on tumblr #romanticism #ao3 fanfic #light academia

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kakushino · 5 months

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The Queen

Ryomen Sukuna x F! Reader

He never orders you around - rather, he requests.

Tags: slight gore, suggestive, fem reader, true form Sukuna Word count: 1,7k

Masterlist

AN: Fanart used in banner made by the amazing @innaillus - be sure to check out their divine fanart Written as a Secret Santa's gift for @zoyakuna - Merry (early) Christmas! (and pls stop slandering Giyuu, it's causing me undue stress)

There was little to amuse you in your secluded throne room underground.

Correction - there had been little to amuse you out of your throne room, so you had retreated back into your palace - and even then, was it a palace, when there were no servants, no great halls, no music, and no consort?

Just you - the Supreme Sovereign - and your throne made of roots and vines.

Which made it odd to hear a sound echo in your chamber. You feared nothing, no one, and your heart remained steady, not a beat out of place, your eyes closed as you rested from lifetimes of exhaustion.

“Who goes there?” you called out, not moving from your reclined position.

You were it to him, the holy grail of his searching - the Queen of Curses. Your name was feared enough that it had been scratched out from all written sources, the feats accredited to you terrifying… yet thrilling to Sukuna. He had needed to meet you, though he knew not why… A deep hunger for companionship, another who could stand at his level, who could reign with him from his Shrine, a craving so consuming he nearly went mad with his searching.

And he did find you, though hardly in the condition he thought he would.

“This is what You have become? The cynosure of all mortals reduced to a wretch.”

The voice was rough, forceful - distinctly male - though the tone held a hint of remorse and confusion. “All beauty is short-lived,” was all you said, a slight irritation churning your stomach for the first time in - decades, centuries, millenia? Who knows?

“Not for curses. We are eternal.” You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, and intense. It lashed out at your own, but like water parting around a blade, yours did too, accepting and redirecting the angry force, dispersing it, and eventually absorbing it. It was like taking a deep breath of fresh air after being suffocated under the weight of the world, a drop of water quenching a soul-deep thirst in the desert of life.

You opened your eyes and sat up properly as you studied him.

The man - curse - was tall, broad, and regal. A king would be a title befitting his posture. His hair was a light color you could hardly make out in the darkness of your abode. The dark marks adorning his face stood out starkly against his skin, as did the shape of the disfigured flesh on the right side of his face. Four gleaming eyes were focused on you, four arms relaxed at his sides.

This man was fascinating, and beautiful; he could easily sway the hearts of humans, bring them to their knees. Too bad you were not human.

“Join me, your Majesty.” Despite the wording, it was a plea. How odd.

“Who are you to ask anything of me?” You blinked slowly. You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, intense, … defensive, lonely. It enticed you, spoke to you in a language you understood all too well. It wasn’t in your nature to deny an honest request.

“Ryomen Sukuna, your Majesty,” he introduced himself. There was a sense of pride in the way he spoke, as if his existence was created, carved out, into the world by his own hands.

Perhaps Ryomen Sukuna would be the cure to your continued boredom.

You stood up from your throne, your figure hardly atrophied as your cursed energy kept you in peak form. The roots and vines retreated into the cave walls, leaving no trace of your royal seat, the chamber empty again for centuries to come.

“Very well.”

Living with Sukuna was hardly boring. Each day, you felt your apathy falling away as you spent time with the King of Curses, until you smiled freely in his presence. The day you realized he softened you to this degree came all too suddenly.

His cruelty to humans who sought to undermine him was but a flimsy curtain of who he truly was. Like a displeased cat, claws exposed, he scratched up those daring to approach him, but with you -

With you he was as playful and borderline affectionate as the tabby you used to feed back in your human days. It warmed your heart, and your cheeks, to feel his eyes on your figure. It made you feel unsteady on your feet. It made you question who was the ruler of the other, who held the power over the other; the power imbalance slowly became a balance - your energy dimmed by the way he could play you like a puppet.

All these feelings weaved together and knotted around your heart, snaring you in a complex web too tight to escape, exposing your throat to him like a delicacy to be gorged upon.

Only if you let him know, that is.

You somehow felt that a man like him wouldn’t settle, and more importantly, he was a man; just another one of the hordes who wanted a demure consort, you could bet. You were not a dainty flower he likely sought; you were a weed - growing strong despite the harshest of conditions, clawing out a place for your existence where there had been none before. The Curse of Curses.

So you buried those feelings like a female buried herself under layers of junihitoe - though you refused to wear that monstrosity despite the latest fashion in Japan, as all the fabric was too heavy for comfort. You made do with the yukata you stole from Sukuna’s wardrobe. It was definitely not because it smelled like him.

You kept away from the humans and the ruling in his Shrine, spending time with Uraume, him, or alone in the gardens - until you could not. He’d left you in charge of his Kingdom when he had business to do.

Human men were deplorable, thinking you were just a weak curse to be manipulated and slandered. You didn’t raise your voice at all, yet it shut everyone up in the hall - save for one local lord thinking himself too mighty to listen. No amount of flattery would have kept him alive after that. A wave of your hand made vines grow out of his guts - burrowing through his flesh as easily as tearing paper apart; sweet-smelling white flowers bloomed from the mess of red-coated plant matter in the middle of the chamber.

You sat in Sukuna’s throne of bones, regal and untouchable.

That was how he found you - presiding over his subjects like the Goddess you were, and bloody Spring sprouted in front of him, rubies glinting upon the stone floors like a grotesque decoration.

At first, he had wanted to study you - the Queen of Curses, the Supreme Sovereign, older than him, wiser, more powerful. Forgotten, yet not forgotten enough for him not to find any sources mentioning your title. He had been curious about you, and then he became curious about the feelings you evoked in him. Your presence in his home converted from an adornment into an emollient to him, smoothing the rough edges and softening the spikes of his defenses against you, yet you remained the centerpiece of his attention, even when you weren’t in his presence. He found himself thinking about you in all his waking moments.

“Everyone, out.”

He could not hide his devotion to you if he tried now - it had grown roots in his soul and fed off of his life-force, yet strengthened it twice as much. His heart was set ablaze every time he laid eyes upon your form, the blood in his veins searing hot, branding him from the inside - a slave to you forevermore.

And so he knelt at your feet, the bottom two of his arms supporting him as he leaned forward, his top pair carefully reaching for your foot and raising it to his face.

The King of Curses kissed your ankle, closing his eyes in silent worship to his Goddess, his World.

“Your Majesty,” he greeted you in a whisper, his lips caressing your skin.

Your eyes grew soft as you studied him, your posture proud but your expression fond. “Sukuna.”

Wet, hot tongue darted out to taste your skin, making you jolt and tear your leg from his grasp with pursed lips. The tabby was particularly impertinent today.

“You have no respect for your Queen, do you?”

“On the contrary, I hold all the respect for you.” His smirk was mischievous, he knew as well as you did neither of you were serious about this. Just a harmless teasing, if a bit skewed.

You used your foot to lightly push against his chest to tip him over onto his back - which he let you do, for he could have as easily resisted. Even falling down, he looked graceful. It made you feel warm inside your ribcage as you pushed a joyous smile down.

Sukuna turned the fall into a backwards roll, ending up on his knees again.

“At least you know your place - on your knees before me…”

“I-” he licked his lips, “I would gladly be on my knees for you all day, Your Majesty.”

Oh? It was your turn to give him a smile full of mischief as he slowly moved back to you. You remained silent.

“Has a cat got your tongue?”

Sukuna shuffled forward on his knees, his top pair of arms resting on the bones of his throne as he came even closer. Palms trailing to your thighs and covering them with his hands - an easy feat with his size.

You could do naught but marvel at the contrast of your limbs and his - each powerful and deadly in their own right, each in a different way. There was no tremor of fear in your muscles, only anticipation, even while he lightly spread your legs to fit his torso between them as you lounged on his throne.

“Let me feast on your nectar.” His voice, smooth like silk, a plea rather than an order, the nuance of his tone telling all you needed to know. He appeared unreadable to others, but he was as exposed and vulnerable as a newborn babe to you at this moment.

Even so, your lips parted in surprise at his request for you didn’t expect him to say it out loud at last. “Forward, aren’t you?”

His carmine eyes - all four of them - focused on yours with an intensity you were only just getting used to with him. Sukuna said nothing as he waited for your response.

The devil didn’t bargain, after all.

“Very well… Show me how you would worship your Queen, my King.”

dividers by the divine @benkeibear

network: @enchantedforest-network

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chaithetics · 23 days

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Late Night Mends

Pairing: Kid (Monkey Man) x reader

Word count: 2.1K

Warning: 18+ MDNI, mentions of anxiety, injuries, not a lot of spice, some fluff, not proof/beta read lol, does not contain spoilers for Monkey Man.

Note: Absolutely am in love with Dev Patel, he adores the world and fandom love! Also special mention to my friend @mittos who helped with this prompt/story ideas. Go and see Monkey Man if you haven't already! And if you have go and see it again! Also jaan is a Hindi term of endearment. Also can we take a moment for Dev Patel's side profile?! Comments, and reblogs are always appreciated as well! I hope you enjoy!

************************************************************************

It was late, extremely late. It had been a slow night but it was quickly becoming the latest it had ever been without his tired, bloody presence. It made you uncomfortable how late it was becoming, he never took this long to show up after a big match. You bit your nails as you couldn’t help but think about the possibility of where he was and scarily, what condition he was in.

It was a risky field that Kid was in, especially when he was the losing dog for the overeager, sweaty crowd not to bet on. He took the punches and rarely complained about it, you’d only ever been to one of his fights before and never again. It was too painful to watch, you’d bitten each of your fingernails right down to the beds, and you swore that it gave you a few grey hairs. If you had any, each of them could be traced back to being his fault, you were sure. You loved him, truly adored him, but he certainly knew how to stress you out.

You’re sitting down waiting for him to arrive. You don’t even realise that you’ve put your hand up to your face to bite your nails but now you know that you must’ve as you’ve been subconsciously biting them as you look out the window waiting, lost in your thoughts. You could think and use that as a distraction but no, the more you think or gaze off, the more you think about him, worry about him and overanalyse every little thing to be analysed, including what would need a magnifying glass to do so. You sigh and rub your face tiredly and also as another poor attempt at a distraction to take your mind away from him.

It was a ridiculous thought, nothing could distract you from him, Kid lived rent-free in your mind 24/7, no matter what you did or wanted. And now was his prime time for filling your head.

You rub your face some more and then look up, you can hear the door quietly open and the sound of gentle footsteps start to make their way to you. You look up as you try to glimpse the start of his lean shadow to confirm that he’s really, really, finally here. The light switch turns on as you see his arm stretch out and then he’s standing there in your doorway.

You look up at him as he stands, he just looks at you for a moment. His gorgeous doe-eyes are wide, he looks exhausted and defeated but there’s a small smile on his face as his eyes meet yours. Ever since you’d known Kid, he had always been a man of few words, which seemed to balance out just how expressive his handsome face was. You liked that though, that his eyes truly were the window to his soul. You did like his voice though as well, you’d have no problem with him using it more. Sometimes he would talk though, about his sweet mother, the stories of Hanuman that his mother had told him and that had vividly stuck with and inspired him still.

You quickly take him in, there’s sweat in his hair, a cut in his cheek, and his knuckles are bloody as always. You bite your lip as you look at him, chewing over your words so you don’t come across as either a scolding lover or treating him like a patient.

“Your hands…” You finally say as he steps closer to you and you can see that he made some attempt to cover them with a bit of cloth but the blood is all over his right hand.

“It’s fine.” He says in a soft whisper, his voice is melodic as always but a little hoarse and deep. He looks down at his hand he tries not to flinch when you take his hand and it’s further proof that no, it really isn’t fine. You sigh and move his hand to check his fingers, it causes discomfort but based on the movement you know it’s not broken at least. It was genuinely impressive that he was still alive, still functioning and not just with everything he’d been through as a young boy, but with the amount of beatings he’d taken at the club. That he’d somehow avoided major damage to his body, that his handsome looks were still intact, and also his teeth. That was a big surprise you had to admit.

“Sit down.” You look at him with a look of concern, one that he doesn’t like. “Come on, I’ll clean it up.” You say softly. He runs his right hand, his good hand through his damp but perfect locks and he sighs, sitting down, waiting for you to fix his wounds and to feel your tender touch.

You’d had the first aid kit ready to go, sitting on the floor waiting for his entrance. You always used it, he always needed it. Your medical background certainly helped, some nights you’d crack a joke that that was the only reason why he was with you. The first time you made that joke his eyes widened at first, and he immediately stuttered to try and reassure her that that wasn’t the case. He didn’t realise that it was a joke. You’d kissed him to reassure him and he kissed you back so sweetly. Now when you made the joke he’d just look at you and give you a small, precious chuckle. You just want to make him smile, make him laugh, bring him joy, and make him feel safe. He deserved that at the very least, especially with his gigantic hug.

His hand clearly had taken the worst of it, you hold it gently in yours, and his hand twitches for a moment. He’s spent most of his life being devoid of affection. He craved a gentle touch, to feel seen and safe in the company of another. He’d started to find that with you, in the way you looked at him, how you carefully held his hand in arms when cleaning an injury and wrapping it up. You somehow had never noticed it, he figured it was because of how attentive you were to his injuries, to him, and his lips quirked up into a secret smile you’d miss over the irony of you not noticing this because of how attentive you were being to him.

“You were later than usual.” You say as you clean his bruised and bloodied knuckles.

“I know.” He whispers as he looks up at you, he’s tired but there’s a small smile on his lips as he knows the scolding is incoming, just what degree is it going to be from you tonight, is the question.

“I was worried, my fingernails are almost as bloody as your knuckles because of how much I was biting them.” You say as you try to clean his hand gently, noting how his hand occasionally twitches in response.

“Would’ve been quite a match.” He whispers before he looks at your hands, noticing your nervously bitten nails. His cheeks heat up as he can’t help but feel a little bit of guilt about causing you to worry so, he’s spent so much of his life without someone who cares about him like this. You sigh and roll your eyes at his response.

“You’re going to be the cause of every single grey hair I have in this lifetime.” You say as you treat the knuckle wounds, making sure you’re gentle. “All I do is worry, you spend every night getting beaten, thrown off tables. It’s going to be too much one day. Something will go wrong. Then what?” Kid can’t help but look up at you, it’s a conversation that’s happened more than a few times. “What if it’s your spine or something? I won’t be able to fix that-” “It’s okay. It’s fine. I’m okay, jaan.” He says as he looks up at you, his big brown eyes are widened and he’s looking at you with his sad puppy dog eyes, he feels bad for making you worry so much.

You sigh, biting your lip as you try to stop yourself from saying anything else. He’s too sweet and so you nod and finish cleaning and bandaging everything. After a moment, you cup his cheek as you look at his warm eyes and you go to get him some water to drink. He watches you and continues to as he drinks the water. You two have become quite good at playing a game of watching each other, almost like it’s a sport to observe the other.

He looks at you, tilting his head which tousles the gorgeous locks he has a little. You sigh and run a hand through his soft brown curls, damp with sweat but somehow miraculously not blood. His hair has always been absolutely perfect. You feel bad for essentially venting your anxieties at him right as he’s come from a long night of work at the club.

“I only scold because I care.” You say but you’re not sure if it’s him or yourself that you’re trying to convince more as you say the words, but it’s true technically. “It’s a form of doting really.” You say as you look at him as he adjusts in his seated position, looking up at you with his wide, doe-eyed orbs. Even if it was a form of doting, you could never stay mad at him for long when having to look into those gorgeous eyes. They’d melt away any troubles and you’re sure if awards were given out for best brown eyes, he’d win. You hated that he did this, that this was how he had to get by. That he had to take these awful, unhealthy beatings but you love him anyway.

He was freshly bandaged now, he moved his hand up and Kid started to slowly caress your cheek, he traced some invisible line so gently with the pads of his fingertips as he looked at you. His doe eyes were filled with adoration and peacefulness as he concentrated on your beauty. You let him, it was soothing and sweet and you had no reason to even consider stopping this. You were his and he was yours.

Your eyes glance down at his fingers, and then you put a hand up to cup his cheek and look into the most beautiful eyes you could ever imagine seeing. After he feels your touch his eyes quickly close and he inhales. He isn’t sure if he’ll ever get used to the feeling of your fingers on his face, of how your hair feels against his skin, or your breath, but he knows for sure, that he’ll at least never tire of it.

His fingers glide down do your mouth and he traces your lips as he looks at them. He tilts his head and before he can even move, you’ve moved your head to press your lips together. There’s something about how gentle his hands are with you, how they feel even after everything that has happened to him and that he does. How it just takes a glance at you for him to melt into a puddle.

You put your hand back into his hair and run it through his curls as he kisses you back and the kiss deepens almost immediately. He cups your cheek gently as your lips move together in sync and you can’t help but start to tug his locks a little and his hand moves to your waist to hold you close against him. You continue to play and tug his hair as his lips move down your chin and jaw and he kisses your neck. You gasp out and tug on his hair a bit more as you feel his breath tickle your throat between his passionate kisses. You struggle to not let out a giggle as he does this and you feel your cheeks heating up as you tilt your head back so your neck is as exposed as possible for him while he kisses your throat and makes his way to your collarbone.

He always gets like this, and so quickly. He just needs a little touch, the reassurance of you being there and he feels an all-consuming need to make up for the years of loneliness, the lack of affection, the lack of physical contact outside of a fight he was guaranteed to lose. He has you in his arms and it’s something right for once, if it was a game this would be a victory, some kind of peace.

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multiimoments · 1 month

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Happy birthday James Potter!

🎂 𝐈𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐟 [𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧] 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 ✨

Since last year, James (especially the versions from these fics) has helped me understand myself, make sense of life, and manage changes more than I can adequately express. ILY James and thank you to all of these authors 💛

Also, I love all Jameses, but I am partial to desi James bc I am also desi 💌

Fics mentioned:

📖 Art Heist, Baby! by @otrtbs

📖 Crimson Rivers by bizarrestars

📖 Shelf Awareness by @ghostofbambifanfiction

📖 The Long Game by @lackadaisicallizard

📖 Kill Your Darlings by messermoon

****

P. S. Kindly do not come at me for liking Jily. I have been reconnecting with them & I do not find them boring & don't care to hear about it any more than I already have in this fandom. pls and thanks 🥰

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itsprashimusic · 4 months

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A Barnes Birthday

Summary - You are celebrating baby barnes' birthday, which is on the same day as your husband's birthday.

Pairings - Bucky Barnes x wife!Reader

W/C - 1.3k

Warnings - fluff, little cussing...i think, no use of y/n, your baby's name is not mentioned, neither is there any description of you or the baby. let me know if i missed anything. Happy reading<3

Masterlist | Navigation

At around 4 am you awoke, bursting with excitement. It was your baby's first birthday. And also, one of your husband's. It was difficult for you to fall asleep in the first place, so you thought you might as well get up from your light, restless sleep and get things ready for the day.

Knowing Bucky, he would most likely be knocked out asleep by now and wouldn't wake up till around 8:30 - 9 am. Normally your husband tends to be a light sleeper, but off late he has been sleeping like a log and you hope that carries on to tonight as well. You prayed to the universe he would not wake up when you silently moved out of bed.

First things first you freshened up, ate a quick meal and started decorating the house. Thankfully earlier in the day your baby managed to exhaust himself to a point where he would sleep the whole night without waking up once. You got streamers and balloons out of a box. Some easy to clean up confetti. You gritted your teeth as you tried to move the heavy couch around. You strong husband would have been useful here if this wasn't for his birthday.

You gave up on trying to blow the balloons and decided to bake the cake to get rid of some steam. Figuring out what Bucky would like was not that hard. Ever since Oreo came out, he has absolutely loved it. And with oreo having so many variations now-a-days than just biscuits, it's been the only thing Bucky eats when he wants a snack. Not the healthiest option but the man likes it and needs to eat.

You found a very simple oreo cake that you could make. You got started on making it. Flour, milk, butter, oreo biscuits obviously. By around 6 am the cake was in the oven getting ready. With nothing left to do, you got back to decorating. But there was an issue. You still needed to move the couch to another location.

At that exact moment your phone started ringing loudly. You ran to the kitchen and answered it, mentally kicking yourself for putting in on vibrate. You just hoped Bucky had not woken up. Thankfully he had not. Putting the phone to your ear you whispered-yelled into it, "What?!"

"I get it that you forgot to put your phone on silent?" Sam chuckled on the other side of the line. You blew an irritated breath out as you rolled your eyes. "Yes, I did. You need something Sam, cuz I'm kinda busy with trying to move my heavy ass couch."

"How about you open the door first and then we can figure out if I need something."

You moved from the kitchen to the front door and opened it to reveal a smirking Sam Wilson on the other side. You lowered the phone from your ear, cutting the call. "You son of a-" you say shaking your head a bit, a smile making it way onto your face. You both go in for a quick hug and you invite him inside. Not that he needed the invitation. He practically lived there at this point.

"What are you doing here at this ridiculous hour in the morning?"

"Helping you prepare for a double-birthday party." You didn't know how any man could be as generous as Sam Wilson. It was just a little past 6 in the morning and here he was in your house ready to lend a helping hand in getting your home ready for a birthday party. You smiled a grateful smile and told him about the couch and where you needed help in moving it. He hung his jacket on the coat hanger and got to helping you with whatever you needed.

You left in the middle to bring the cake out of the oven and let it cool. By that time the couch was moved along with some more furniture, balloons were hung and so were some streamers. With the extra help you were able to have the house decorated by 7 am with snacks and everything else ready. That was when you heard some cries coming from the bedroom. Realising that your son was awake, you quickly headed to the room to sooth him before Bucky woke up with the sound.

Bucky was dead asleep. A small part of you was worried with how deep his sleep was, but you knew it meant he was sleeping peacefully. "Hi my baby!" you greeted your son with a soft voice. "You're awake, yes. It's your first birthday." you said while cuddling him. He needed that after he woke up. His cries died down; he was wide awake and cheery. "Yes, its papa's birthday too. We'll wish him later, first let's get you ready for this double birthday."

You got to work bathing him and dressing him up in some adorable but comfortable clothes which would be easy to clean. Sam had headed back to his place to freshen up a bit before your son woke up. It was now past 8 am and you were getting dangerously close to when Bucky would wake up. You took 20 minutes for yourself to look presentable since there would be photos.

Bucky woke up just as you finished changing your clothes. "Doll?" he called out when you weren't found in his sight. "Coming." you replied and walked out of the closet he had built for you. Before fatherhood, Bucky had a big passion for construction. It kept him busy, allowed him do something for you and learn some new skills in the process.

"Happy birthday honey." you say with a smile. "How old are you turning today?" you joke, tilting your head to the side. He opened his arms and pulled you in for a hug. "Ha ha very funny. But thank you." saying the first part with mock annoyance, he pulled away and just stared at you for a good 10 seconds before he asked, "Where's the little one?" You said nothing and just smiled, gesturing him to follow you.

You jogged out of the room making him chase after you. You pick up your son who was waiting with Sam in the living room and stood there waiting for your husband. He walked in and Sam set off a confetti popper in his face which surprised for a second but then he hugged Sam. Bucky pulled back, looked around and then at you holding your son. You took the baby out of your arms and kissed him all over his tiny adorable face.

Bucky wasn't a man of many words and preferred to show his gratitude in actions rather than words. He pulled you close and just kissed the top of your head. You left his side when Sam came closer, "Happy birthday man, and happy birthday little man!" You then came out of the kitchen with the cake and lit candles and set it down on the table. In the moment Bucky couldn't be any more grateful for his little family. You, his son and Sam. They were his motivation for everything he did.

The candles were blown out and the cake was cut and fed to everyone. Your son got to devourer whatever cake was left on an already dirty towel laid on the floor. Sam played the role of a photographer for free, only because it was his nephew's birthday.

"it's been a year already." you say.

"Time flies fast, no?" he held you by his side as you both watch lovingly as Sam plays with your son. Bucky still remembers the time when you were pregnant with him, the random cravings you would have and the mood swings from time to time. There were a few hellish moments, but they were all worth it. Reminiscing about the past only made you more appreciate the present moments even more and anticipate the future.

"Happy birthday once again J."

Bucky didn't reply. But he did kiss you deeply.

A/N - this has been sitting in my drafts since 2022😐 I wanted to get this out. It started as a random idea which took me forever to write. Hope you enjoyed reading.

If you want to find out more about me or my works, you can head to my navigation.

#itsprashimusic #a barnes birthday fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x wife!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x woc!reader #bucky barnes x desi!reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fluff

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thequeendesi · 1 year

Text

Stupid

Title: Stupid

Alt Title: Watch Your Mouth

Warning; sex, p in v, agressive, dominance, grabbing, cussing, porn w a plot

Disclaimer: I don’t own you, or the euphoria franchise however I own the writing

Rating: MA

Word Count: 1309

“You’re fucking ridiculous.” You scoffed as you dropped your phone on the table. “I’m always fuckin’ ridiculous. It’s always me.”

“Because it is you!” You shouted at Fez, walking behind him as he walked into the kitchen of the apartment you, his brother and he shared. “You’re doing a fucking deal at a damn high school party!” You pinched your nose, leaning against the door frame. “Fezco, we'll go to big people's jail!”

“I can fuckin’ handle myself! I don’t need your loud ass shoutin’ at me for shit for no damn reason.” Fez returned your previous scoff, opening the fridge to grab a Budweiser. “No damn reason? No damn reason?” You asked him, voice raising the second time you asked. Fezco took a deep breath and closed the fridge, taking a swig of the beer as he leaned against the fridge.

“I’m tryna keep your ass out of jail! And you’re too damn stupid to get your head out of your ass.” You pointed at him. “Don’t call me stupid.” He said shortly, a warning. Maybe stupid wasn’t the right word, you knew Fezco was aware of his risks and what he was doing. But you also were aware of the fact that if he goes to jail, everything is fucked.

“Don’t fucking act stupid.” You shot back, arms falling to your sides.

His jaw tightened as he nodded. His head leaned back as he continued to down his drink in four sips. He placed his now empty glass on the counter as he walked over to you.

His hand grabbed your jaw. Index, middle and ring on your cheek, palm covering your mouth as his pinky rested under your chin and your thumb on your other cheek. His grip was firm, but didn’t necessarily hurt.

“Watch your mouth babygirl.“ He said, beer on his breath. “I ain’t got any problems usin’ your mouth for what it’s best.” Your eyebrows raised as your eyes widened.

Your breath was caught in your throat. He wasn’t covering your nose, you could breathe just fine. But this sudden dominance from Fez was unexpected.

He has been dominant in bed before, but as the longer you two date, the more vanilla he’d become. Sex was good, but ever since you two began living together rather than ‘getting it when you can’, the sexual fire seemed to just dull.

You pulled your head back from his grip, which wasn’t hard at all. “Make me.”

Fez closed his eyes and leaned his head back, a short laugh escaped his lips. “Such a damn brat.” He shook his head, looking down at you.

His fingers moved to the back of your head, fingers gripping your hair as you lowered to your knees by his force.

You looked up at him as he used his free hand to undo his jeans, slipping them down to the middle of his thighs, he freed his member from his black jeans. You looked at it as he gripped it in his hand, a little over seven and a half inches with a girth that still had the ability to hurt if you two go without for a while. Precum leaked from the head of Fez’s dick.

“Open that pretty little mouth babygirl.” He ordered, his fingers moving from your hair to your chin. Your mouth opened as you stuck your tongue out.

“That’s a good girl.” He whispered, tapping his cock on your tongue. “Such a good girl.” He moved his hand once more, to the top of the back of your head.

Your hand grabbed the base of his cock as your lips wrapped around his head. Your eyes closed as you bobbed your head, moving your hand to cover what your mouth can’t.

“Just like that, pretty girl.” His praises slipped from his lips as you continued to bob your head, his fingers gripping your hair, using his hand to make a makeshift hair tie. “Fuck.” He sighed.

You focused the attention on the tip of his cock, tightening your hand grip a little and pumping your hand a little more.

You sucked, your eyes looking up at him managing to catch his head back. He swallowed hard as he pulled your hair, your lips making a popping noise you let go of his cock.

“Wha-“

“Don’t fuckin’ speak.” He said, letting go of your hair as he pulled you up by your arm pits. He moved you to the counter of the kitchen.

His hands grabbed your shoulders as he turned you around, bending you over as your tummy rested on the counter.

You moved your arms to prop your self up on the counter, crossing over each other as he left go of your shoulders. You looked over your shoulders.

His hands traced your sides as he made his way down the the hem of your skirt, a tight black skirt that normally drives him crazy, and tonight wasn’t an exception.

His fingers hooked under it as he pulled it up. “You’re so damn soaked.” He noted, you knew he was talking ab the fact that your wetness seeped through your pink thong and it definitely made a print.

His index finger hooked the thong at your pussy and pulled it to the side.

“Your pussy is just crying for this dick, ain’t it baby?” He asked you, his hand gripped his cock as he rubbed it through your folds, coating the tip with your dripping juices.

“You can speak.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” He asked, pushing the head into you slightly.

“Yes sir.”

“Such a good girl.” He whispered to you, lips on your ear as his hands grip your waist as his cock sinks deeper into your right cunt.

Your breath catches in your throat as you dropped your head to rest on your arms. “Shit…” you muttered, feeling yourself clench down on his cock. “You’re gonna break it, ma. Relax.” He says into your ear, his hips pressed against yours as he fills you. “You’re taking your dick so good.” He kissed your neck.

You breathed out the moan you were holding. He pulled away from your neck as he stood right, his hips pulling away from yours slowly as he pulled nearly all the way out.

He pushed back into you, then pulled away slowly once more. His hand moved to the middle of your back as he pushed down a little, forcing a little bit of an arch as his pace began to quicken, moans coming from the both of you.

“Fuck baby…” you whimpered out, picking your head up from your arms, eyes clenched closed as he began to fuck you mercilessly.

You gripped your arms as you felt him torture your g-spot. Your body jerking a little every time he pushes it.

“Right there?” He asked you. You nodded, moans becoming the only thing you can do.

“Ma, I’m not gon’ last to much longer…” He said, hips snapping against yours, the sound of your squelching pussy, his balls smacking your clit, and the moans from the both of you being the only noises to be heard.

“Fuck baby… I’m about to cum…” you moaned out. “Cum all over your cock, ma.” He ordered, and as if a band snapped, you came hard on his cock.

A loud, strangled moan-type sob escaped you as his hips slapped against yours. “That’s right, such a good girl.” He groaned, his cum painting your insides. “Fuck..” he whispered to himself as he rode out the two of your own highs.

Your breathing shook as you laid your head back down and his head rested between your shoulder blades.

He pulled out of you and fixed your thong. “Ready to shower?” He asked, picking you up over his shoulder.

You laughed a little and went limp in his arms. “Yes. Definitely.”

#fezco imagine #fezco smut #fezco fanfic #fezco one shot #fezco o'neill #fezco euphoria #fezco x reader #fez x reader #euphoria #euphoria x reader #euphoria imagine #euphoria imagines #des’ writing #desi’s writing #desi’s oneshot #euphoria fez x reader

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winterrrnight · 2 months

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I had two requests but combined them together in one! I hope you enjoy <3 <3

soft!rafe x desi!reader <3 him meeting your family and trying home-made Indian food for the first time blurb <3 requested by @erwinsvow & @valeskafics

It is the mere start of your relationship, around two weeks, and your parents have asked you to bring your boyfriend Rafe to dinner at your place. You were taken by surprise by their request, but agreed nonetheless, and pretty soon Rafe is very lovingly welcomed in your home for a dinner night.

It goes on wonderfully, your father asking him questions he is able to answer well, and impress him too. Your mother doesn’t have a lot to ask him, her being quite satisfied with the answers he is giving to your father.

But the one who is impressed the most by him is your grandma. She thinks he is absolutely handsome, and can’t help but smile at him. She gently tugs on your shirt, pulling you closer to her.

“How did you get him?” She whispers jokingly in your ear. “He looks way too out of your league,” You only groan and roll your eyes at her.

Pretty soon it is dinner time, and you all find yourself around the dining table. Your mom is absolutely loading his plate with food despite him saying no over and over again.

“Oh take it! You need the nutrition,” your grandma says, telling your mom to put in some more, saying something about how he is a growing boy and needs it in her mother tongue. You giggle and place your hand on top of his from under the table, squeezing it lightly. He doesn’t say anything and just smiles, letting your mother top up his plate with the biryani she made.

A small silence falls over you all as you start eating, the gentle scraping of the spoon against the plate being the only sound. You enjoy the food quite a lot, as you also make small conversation with your family along with it. But Rafe, oh god, almost starts losing it.

“That’s… that’s spicy…” he mumbles, hissing as he quickly gulps down the water from his glass. He exhales deeply as he fans his mouth, his eyes a little wide.

“You okay?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at him.

“Yeah I just…” he mutters, taking a deep breath.

“Calm down white boy,” you joke, “you aren’t dying or anything,”

Your mother softly laughs. “Oh Rafe,” she smiles. “Today’s food isn’t as spicy as usual, I toned down on the spice and the masala,”

Rafe’s eyes widen at her words. “Really?” He mumbles. You can’t help but laugh, softly poking him in his ribs.

“She’s right,” you say, smiling. “I was about to say that actually; today’s food is a little bland,”

Rafe turns to look at you with an incredulous look on your face. “You’re kidding…” he mutters.

“If there’s one thing you’ll get from being a part of this family,” your grandma says, “it’s having a very high spice tolerance,” You laugh at her words and smile at him, softly pinching his cheeks.

“Man up boy, this is just level zero of spice.”

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

some blogs who I thought might be interested: @runningfrom2am @chenslucy @luversgirl @lilghostiequinni @etfrin @brioffthegrid @rafecameronshoe @rafegirly (sorry if you did not want to be tagged, feel free to ignore!)

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jake-g-lockley · 2 years

Text

The Light of My Knight | Moon Knight x Desi!Reader | Chapter 7: Divine Couples

Warnings: Racism, harassment, alcohol Word Count: 3.5 k

Taglist: @brekkers-desigirl @wordacadabra @paymeinkash @ahookedheroespureheart @sodonuthideout @obsessedwadonis @local-mr-frog @swiggy-needs-mental-help

Chapter 6 | Chapter 8

Your POV

“Alright, gather around folks! Welcome to the British Museum! My name is Y/N and I will be your tour guide for today.”

The rush that you get from saying those lines never gets old. Being a tour guide just makes you feel so in control. You love sharing your knowledge with those who are willing to listen. Giving your tour group a big smile, you usher them to the first artifact. Today your group was a mix between a family of four and a group of school students.

“To my left is a carving of the Goddess Durga amma and the demon Mahisha. The sculpture is dated to be circa 1200 C.E. and was taken from Odisha, India.”

The father in the family of four scoffed and rolled his eyes.

You pretended not to notice the overtly obvious gesture and continue with your explanation, clearing your throat.

“The Goddess is depicted here to be slaying the demon. She is manifesting her supreme power as the dispeller of evil and is represented by her multi-armed form. If you take a close look at the carvings, you can notice that the Goddess is welding multiple weapons such as a broad blade sword, Lord Shiva’s trident and Lord Vishnu’s discus.”

Throughout the tour, the father kept throwing snide remarks about the artifacts in front of them, testing your patience. Nevertheless, you kept your cool and kept your chin up, answering the questions that the student had and clarifying minor elements of the history surrounding these artifacts.

“Ah, here is another carving from Odisha, circa 1200 C.E. It displays the divine couple, Lord Shiva and his consort Parvati amma. The sage Bhringi had neglected worshiping Parvati amma when worshiping Lord Shiva and so to place emphasis on their unity to the sage, she sat on Lord Shiva’s lap.”

Speaking of divine couples, you watch a dark mass of curls pop up from the back of the gift shop counter, a distance away, handing a customer their purchase.

He catches your eye and winks, giving you a cheeky smirk and you shake your head, turning your attention back to Lord Shiva and Parvati amma. You weren’t familiar yet with the difference between Jake and Marc, but the way he furrows his brows makes you gauge that Marc was the one fronting today.

You still hadn’t had a chance to talk to them properly yet, only a small “Hi, darling,” in the morning as Steven rushed into his meeting with Donna. Over the weekend, you read up about DID and your stomach churned at the thought that Marc had to endure some sort of trauma that got him to this point.

You’ve made up your mind not to trigger anything out of them, but instead just continue living with them in your life as if you’ve always known. You figured that it wouldn’t be such a task to act casual about the whole situation.

A gruff, annoyed voice interrupts your thoughts. “There is no way that these carvings are that old, you’re lying.”

“I'm afraid that I’m not, sir. These artifacts have been dated years ago by well-known archeologists.” you answer as you try to keep your emotions in check.

“A barbaric culture such as this could not have made this much of an advancement so early on. You savages could not have made something like this. Like I said, you’re lying. And you keep using the words ‘taken.’ Are you implying that the British stole these artifacts?” he said, stepping closer to you, despite his wife’s protests.

“Excuse me?” your jaw twitched, but you didn’t move, standing your ground.

After all, what could go wrong?

“You heard me, you're lying. You have done nothing else but lied to us the entirety of this tour, you curry munching bitch.” he spat.

“I would request for you to take a step back, please.” you say trying to keep your voice steady.

“How dare you spread toxic lies to my children? You have the audacity to come into my country and contaminate it with your presence?” He took another step closer.

You could feel the whole atmosphere around you and your tour group tilt. Turning, you tried to call security but before you could do so, you felt a hard slap across your face and you fell to your knees, clutching your face. You heard your clipboard drop out your grasp and skid away from you. You felt distraught, confused, humiliated, and you didn’t want to move.

You didn’t know how long you knelt there but soon, you felt strong arms lifting you up to your feet, picking up your clipboard, holding you close. Three security guards swarmed the scene and you let yourself be escorted away, as you caught a glimpse of the man who had just slapped you being tackled to the ground. You felt your tears drip down your chin, and you struggled to stay upright, your face still smarting, ears ringing.

The strong arms pull you into the dark break room and you feel yourself being pulled into a soft embrace, rocking you back and forth, one arm around you and one hand at the nape of your neck, supporting your head. You fist their shirt and lean into them breathing in their familiar cologne and focus on the masculine scent, breathing in and out, clinging to them like a lost koala bear.

“That’s it baby, breathe. You’re ok, you’re safe, sweetheart.” Marc's voice cut through the ringing in your ears.

Marc pulled away just enough to look at your face. His hand gently stroked the side of your face that was aching. His eyes were clouded with an emotion that you've never seen on the boys’ face but when his eyes met yours, they softened and it only made you sob even more. You ducked your head into his chest and continued to cry, as he strokes your hair, muttering softly.

After what seemed like hours, you hear the door of the breakroom opening, followed by JB’s muffled voice.

“Steven, the police are here to take Y/N’s statement. They’re in the HR office.”

You feel Marc tense against you.

“Give us a second, yea?” Steven’s English accent resonated through his chest.

The door closes again and you look up at Steven, sniffing. He grabs a handful of tissues from the counter on your right and hands it to you, letting you blow your nose and wipe your eyes.

“Whenever you’re ready, darling. I'll be there beside you, yea?” Steven said, taking your hand, his voice lower than usual.

You nodded, gripping his arm with your free hand. He leads you outside and away from the main museum arena, into the office areas of the museum. The normally quiet HR office was packed, two police officers, Donna, JB, your tour group and Joshua, the head of HR. You caught a glimpse of the family in your tour group, the mother’s eyes were bloodshot and the children were crying.

Donna and Joshua led you, Steven and the police to a separate conference room, where you slowly told them what happened, still not believing it yourself. The police asked some questions and when they were done, they left the room. Donna and Joshua made you sign a few papers.

“The Museum will handle all legal elements, Y/N, you’ll just probably have to go to court. We will be providing you with a lawyer.” Donna said, reassuringly. “You can go home and rest today, yea? Stevie, can you take the Egyptology tour while I find a replacement for the Asian Gallery?”

Steven hesitates, turning to look at you.

“You go on Steven, I’ll be fine, I’ll take a cab home.” you say, wiping your eyes, trying to convince Steven.

“Alright.”

When Donna leaves the room, Steven presses a soft kiss on your forehead. He looked terribly worried and clearly didn’t want to let you go on your own.

“Let’s get your stuff and a cab, shall we?” he sighed.

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Moon Boys’ POV

Steven found it extremely hard to concentrate on leading a crowd of people around the museum, especially when his own thoughts were clouded between a mix of unbridled rage, heart wrenching sadness and two men yelling at each other.

“YOU SHOULD HAVE LET ME RIP HIS FACE APART!” Jake yelled.

“And then what, huh? We go to jail for killing a man in broad daylight?” Marc hissed back, his tone slightly more controlled.

“You think I fucking care? The racist hijo de puta had it coming! Marc, he touched our girl!” Jake growled.

He touched our girl.

Steven had never felt more angry and helpless in his entire life. He kept seeing flashes of what happened, how the man started to argue with her, how Marc jumped over the counter to run over to her, how the man continued to yell racial slurs at Y/N as he pulled her away from the chaos. He couldn’t get the image of her crying out of his mind, it haunted and pained him. But Steven smiled and continued his tour, trying to keep the whole process as smooth as he possibly could.

As much as he wanted to ruin the racist’s life, Steven was pretty rational and he knew that the racist had already ruined his own life. He knew that JB had sent the CCTV recordings to the police, there was concrete proof that could help Y/N win the case, easily. He also saw the man’s wife and kids, how traumatized they were. But Steven was more concerned about Y/N and how she was doing at the moment.

The second the shift had ended, Steven gave Jake control of the body, only after making him promise that he wouldn’t do anything rash or stupid. Jake had calmed down a smidge but he was still on the verge of committing a homicide. His boys told him to keep calm, keep calm for her.

He arrived at Y/N’s flat in less than 10 minutes, with a box of donuts. The donuts were Steven’s idea, but even Steven knew that the donuts were not going to fix the pain that she was going through at the moment. Jake knocked the door softly, pressing his ear to the door to hear any signs of movement.

“Y/N, rosa, it’s us.” Jake said, loud enough for her to hear him.

He heard some shuffling and the door clicking open. He slipped inside the flat and collided with a bundle of blankets. A hand shot out of the bundle and grabbed his shirt, pulling him close. He sighed, setting the box of donuts aside and hugged the bundle, sinking onto the floor, pulling the bundle onto his lap.

They sat there in silence for a good while as Jake held her. Jake slowly moved his hand to the top of the bundle and pulled at where her head would be, exposing her beautiful, sad face. Jake was supposed to be the strong one, the one that kept them out of danger, the one who was scared of nothing, but seeing her face like this absolutely shattered something in him.

“Talk to me, rosa.”

“It all happened so fast, Jake.” she whispered. “I didn’t do anything, I swear.”

A tear runs down her face and Jake quickly swipes it away quickly, cupping her face in his rough hands. “I know you didn’t do anything, mi corazón, no one saw this coming.”

She turned and leaned into his chest, ear to his heart. Jake watched as she held his hand open and traced each line slowly.

“I don’t know why I’m so upset about this. I mean, sure, I didn’t expect to be slapped, but I should be used to the racial slurs that I’ve been getting over the years, living here.” she sniffed.

Jake was taken aback. “Amor, no one should get ‘used to’ racial slurs. Thats a stupid idea. What that asshole did today was wrong. You don’t deserve any of the shit that happened to you today.”

She stayed silent, still tracing his hand. The blanket slipped away from her shoulder and Jake saw that she was still in her work clothes.

“You need to shower and change, rosa, get into something more comfortable, okay?” he said softly into her ear and she nodded slowly, getting off his lap.

While she showered, Marc took over and busied himself with finding some food for her to eat. Marc is relatively relieved that Jake had calmed down significantly when he saw Y/N. Steven was right, there was nothing that they could do, no matter how angry they were about this, except be there for Y/N. He heated some leftover rice and palak paneer that he found in the fridge.

Just as he plated up the food, Y/N stepped out of the bathroom and padded her way to the kitchen, now clad in a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt with a towel wrapping her hair. She frowned at the food in front of her and shook her head. Marc raised an eyebrow at her and she sighed.

“I’m not hungry, Marc.”

“You’re getting really good at telling us apart.” Marc’s heart swelled at the recognition.

“Flattery won’t make me eat the food, Spector.” she grumbled but Marc saw a small smile appear on her face.

“Please?” Marc said, hoping the magic word would do the trick.

She sighed and reluctantly sat at her dining table and gestured for Marc to do the same. Marc watched as she slowly ate, pushing small amounts of rice and paneer into her mouth using her hand. Suddenly, she turned a handful of food to Marc and he blinked back at her, confused.

“Sapdu. Or I won’t finish the food.” she pouted, moving her hand towards his mouth.

Dumbfounded, Marc opened his mouth and she pushed the morsel of food into his mouth with her thumb. He chewed and swallowed, still perplexed as to what had just happened, his eyes wide.

Y/N giggled at his reaction, the smile that curved on her face triggered the army of butterflies that he thought were killed off during his days as a mercenary, making him involuntarily gasp. He hid it with a cough

“You’re cute when you’re confused.” she said, pushing a glass of water to him. “Thank you for caring about me enough to come here.”

“I- it's nothing, don’t worry about it.” he stuttered, sipping the water.

She quickly finished the last few mouthfuls. “I’m done, happy?”

“Very.” Marc laughed as she got up to wash her plate.

She walked towards the drying line at her balcony and pulled the towel off her head, scrunching the ends of her hair and then flinging it over the line.

Turning to look at him, she suddenly says “I think we need to talk.”

Marc nodded, not understanding what she meant. She walks back to the kitchen and opens a cabinet, pulling out a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses.

“You drink vodka?” she asks.

“Not at this hour?” Marc said hesitantly, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Hmm, I need a lil liquid luck after today's fucking shit show.” she said, pouring two shots.

Marc watched open-mouthed as she downed the two shots, not breaking eye contact with him. She tilted her head up, swallowed, and grimaced. Marc would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little turned on. In his slight daze, an alarmed Steven took over the body “Y/N, love? Why the alcohol?”

“Oh goody! Hi, Steven.” she said, stepping between Steven’s legs. They were nose to nose now and Steven nervously chuckled.

“Steven, my cellam boy, will you clear a small confusion in my head?” she whispered, her hands on his thighs.

“Anything, s-sure.”

“What did our kiss at the aquarium mean?” she said, so softly that it was almost incoherent. Steven’s eyes widened, he knew this question would come but he didn’t expect that to be now. The boys were silent so he took a deep breath and seized the moment.

“Y/N, from the second we- I saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful being that graced this horrible Earth. You are that one constant that has been in our lives for months now and you help me feel grounded and happy. I can’t go a second without thinking about you and your beautiful face, how you laugh, the way you talk to me about things you love, the way you listen to me! I don’t think there is any bloody word in this world that could help describe how I feel about you, but I guess the simplification of all of this is that, I really, really like you. Like, ugh, bollocks, more than friends.” Steven rambles, avoiding your eyes.

She tilts his face up by his chin and Steven finds that there is a beautiful smile gracing her face and he gives her a shy, dopey smile in return.

“I think I like you too, Steven Grant. I think I like all of you. More than a friend.” she whispers.

“Really?” Steven whispered in disbelief.

“I didn’t kiss you for funsies, dumbass.” she says, pouting her bottom lip at him.

Steven laughs, a breath of relief escapes his lungs as he pulls her closer to him by the edge of her oversized t-shirt. He kisses her, her hand cupping his jaw, her soft pillowy lips making him feel soft and giddy.

“Wait, all of me? As in…?” he pulls away, tilting his head.

“Yep, the other two. They are an extension of you, and you them. Of course I like them too. Besides, Marc and Jake are not slick. They can’t and won’t escape my wrath.” she says, smirking.

“Not slick, huh?” Marc fronted and without warning, dipped his head to Y/N’s neck, trailing small kisses that made her whimper. She gripped his thigh to steady herself.

“Marc…”

“Hmm, not so vocal now?” He murmurs into her neck, lifting his head, grazing the soft skin with his nose. A content sigh emits from her, twisting his insides and making him laugh. He leaves the warmth of her neck and looks her in the eyes, which are now half lidded.

“I like you too, Y/N. I like every single thing about you. I could sit here for hours and hours and tell you everything I like about you. You are a goddess.” he sighed.

Y/N giggled and planted a soft kiss on Marc’s forehead.

“Can I speak to Jake for a second?”

“Nuh uh, tell her I’m not there, hermano.” Jake said in the headspace.

“Jake? Umm, Jake’s not here at the moment, baby.” Marc says, his brows furrowing.

“Mmm, lemme guess, he told you to say that, raja?” she says lowly into his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Marc could tell that the effects of the alcohol was slowly kicking in and giving her some new found confidence.

“Cobarde.” she whispers, the smugness evident in her voice.

Jake fronted with such force that almost made him fall off the chair.

“No soy un cobarde.” He growled.

He twists her and pulls her onto his lap causing her to gasp and throw her arms around his neck.

“Hey, Lockley.” she smiles after regaining her balance on his lap.

“If I had a heart, it would have been lost to your smile ages ago.” he sighs.

Y/N drags one of her arms down from his neck and places a hand on his chest “Looks like it's still here, you cheesy sod.” she says blandly.

Jake chuckles but soon becomes serious again.

“Women like you aren’t made to like. You are made for love. Y el amor es malo para mi salud.” he says.

“Says the man who gushes about her as if he would turn into a human door mat for her.” Khonshu says pompously, earning a glare from Jake.

“Good gods, ni oru tengga da.” she says, her nose scrunching. “I can promise you that if you get sick, I’ll be the one here to take care of you.” she punched him softly.

He shakes his head and holds on to her, just like he did on the floor about an hour ago. He can feel her wet hair damping his arm and her t-shirt.

“Tú también me gustas, mi rosa.” he finally whispers. “You’re driving me nuts, mami.”

She kisses his jaw and tightens her grip on his shirt.

“So, does this mean you’re our girlfriend now?” Jake says, looking down at her.

“Mmm, ‘our girlfriend,’ I like the sound of that, boyfriends.” she says giggling.

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Translations:

Amma: Mother

Hijo de puta: Son of a bitch

Rosa: Rose

Mi corazón: My heart

Amor: Love

Sapdu: Eat

Cellam: Sweetie

Raja: King

Cobarde: Coward

No soy un cobarde: I am not a coward

Y el amor es malo para mi salud: And love is bad for my health

Ni oru tengga da: You are a coconut dude

Tú también me gustas, mi rosa: I like you too, my rose

Mami: mommy? sorry. mommy? Ee (affectionately not sexually, yet or actually you never know with Jake Lockley hah)

Chapter 6 | Chapter 8

Reblogs are appreciated <3 love you all so much xxx

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the-whispers-of-death · 4 months

Text

The Stars and the Moon

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Male!Reader Summary: You are outside the base, just staring up at the night sky and enjoying the peace the sight evokes. Ghost joins you. Content: Fluff, so much fluff, Ghost so soft he's most likely ooc, Closed off!Reader, desi!Reader, Reader has been in the military for a while, a tiny bit of cursing (like one bad word). Word Count: 990 words Author's Note: Simon currently has the hold on my brain rot, RIP my love John Price. I'd think he'd love to star-gaze, so I wrote this with him in mind and then he was like "What if I just loved Reader more than the stars and the moon?". He took over my brain to write for me and I just couldn't stop him.

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You stood outside the base, a few steps to the left of the entrance to the base. It was a chilly night tonight, a soft breeze ruffling your clothes and your short-cropped black hair.

Your eyes were on the starry night sky, taking every detail of the twinkling stars and the bright full moon. It was peaceful, a respite from all of the chaos of war.

There was no bloodshed here. No screams of pain that permeated the air. Just you and the stars.

Until you heard the door to the base open and a pair of heavy footsteps walk over to you, interrupting the peaceful silence.

“What are you doing out here, lad?” Ghost asked as he settled right next to you. His honey-brown eyes that were the only features of his that were showing beneath his balaclava and white skull mask went to the night sky, as if he too wanted to find the peace in it that you did.

You sighed, sitting down on the concrete ground, no care that there were chairs that you could’ve sat on. “Just looking at the stars, needed a reminder that not everything is drenched with blood,” you murmured.

Ghost was silent for a few seconds before he grunted and sat down on the concrete, joining you. “Guess the stars, they are pretty.”

That was the last thing he said before silence washed over you two, a familiar occurrence. Both of you had at least ten years in the military, having seen your fair share of traumatic things. So you two often gravitated towards each other, two broken soldiers seeking each other out in hopes you’ll bring out the light in each other.

“Though, you know, you’re more peaceful than the stars ever could be,” Ghost said after a few minutes, his gruff voice so soft that it was barely a whisper. He turned his head to look at you, his piercing brown eyes boring into you, taking in your brown skin that had a few old battle scars on it, your brown eyes which twinkled in the moonlight. “Lad, you know that, don’t you?”

You turned to look at him, raising a brow. “I’m just a soldier, Ghost.”

“Simon.”

No one on the Task Force ever called him “Simon”, except for Price, but even then Price didn’t call him by it that much. And most of the time when others tried to call him by first name, he’d correct them with his call sign. But you… You got to call him “Simon” now.

“Simon,” you said, memorizing the way it rolled off your tongue like it belonged there. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m surely not more peaceful than the stars. They’re breathtaking and a symbol of all that’s left to explore, a symbol of a vast universe. They’ve been written about in poems for centuries to evoke feelings of content and beauty.”

Ghost scooted closer on the concrete to you, his warm gloved hand resting on your thigh. “You’re breathtaking,” he murmured, his voice full of awe. “The way you move, the way you laugh, the way you don’t take any bullshit. It’s breathtaking, absolutely mesmerizing. Sure, the stars are evidence of a vast universe, but who needs a vast universe to explore when there’s you?”

His hand on your thigh tightened and he pulled you closer, so close you were almost sitting on his lap. It was enough to get your heart racing.

“What good are the stars and the moon if they’re not you? They can’t make me feel safe like you can, they can’t make me laugh. They can’t complete me.” His other hand languidly moved along your side, up your neck and jaw until it cupped your cheek, so gentle and tender. “The stars are beautiful, but there’s nothing more beautiful than a good man, a man who knows of war and bloodshed and still fights for the greater good. And that’s you. You could’ve retired by now, settled down, but you’re here. You’re here with me, along side all of us, getting your hands dirty with blood and ashes so that those back home can sleep well at night.”

Your eyes fluttered at his words, your body melting against his touch. “Simon, I’m not all you make me up to be. I’m not some perfect human being.”

Ghost nodded, leaning in until his forehead pressed against yours. “I know. And that what makes me love you.”

His confession took the breath out of your lungs, your eyes wide as you stared into his.

“These past few months that we have grown closer have only made me fall in love with you,” he whispered, his lips so close but so far away due to his balaclava and mask. “And I can’t hold it in anymore. Please, please tell me to stop, to go away, and I will.”

“Don’t,” you replied, shaking your head when he wanted to pull away, your hand reaching for his, which still cupped your cheek. “Don’t leave, don’t go. I’ve fallen in love with you too.”

Your heart ached for him, your mind never strayed from thoughts of him. Of his laugh, his corny jokes, the way his presence filled up a room. On the surface, you thought your want—need—for him to be by your side was because he was your friend, the only one who took one look at your broken, closed off soul and said he’d stay by your side, but you knew that it was deeper than that. You were just as entranced by him as he was by you.

“Stay with me,” you begged softly.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” Ghost said, no longer trying to pull away from you. His eyes closed as he pressed his forehead against yours just the tiniest bit harder. “As long as you'll have me, I’m yours.”

“Then let me be your stars and the moon.”

“Be my universe.”

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated!

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x male reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost cod #call of duty #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #my writing #fanfic #fluff #ghost x male reader #cod x male reader #cod modern warefare 2 #cod #cod x reader #desi!reader #:)

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rathiman · 1 month

Text

you know what I miss rn? The niche desi fandoms that were hyperactive for a while and slowly fizzled out. So many friendships were born out of these fandoms. There three that were the most impactful out of these for me. So RIP Bahubali Fandom, RRR Fandom and Ponniyin Selvan Fandom. Also are y'all still sneaking out here?

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beebee18 · 2 months

Text

My life?

Chan x Reader

(Inspired by @cheeseceli )

Super self indulgent (had a dream about it)

Reader speaks English and Hindi. (She's me)

Genre: Major fluff, curious Chan, whipped Chan.

(Not proof read)

Would LOVE some feedback, it's my first piece to ever be posted on here. Thank you for reading 🎀

He loved listening to you speak Hindi/Urdu. He thought it sounded sweet from you. True you did speak Hindi softer than English, you just thought that the language is 'softness' personified.

So when you were on your phone with you mom, he sat down beside you smiling to greet you. You smiled back and kept speaking into the phone now thinking to cut the conversation short as Chan was finally home, at 2am mind you.

"Accha maa abhi rakhti hoon, raat ke 2 baj rahe hai idhar." You say into the phone

(Okay mom I'll hang up now, it's 2 at night here.)

"Haa beta, so jaana and tell Chan I said 'Hi'." She says.

(Okay baby, go to sleep...)

"Haa bol doongi, love you." You says lastly, your finger hovering over the screen to end the call.

(Yes, I'll tell him...)

"Love you mere jigar ka tukda." With a kiss into the speaker she hangs up as you turn to face Chan.

He looked at you with awe and a little preplexed.

"Bed?" You asked getting up and stretching, looking at him for response.

"Bed." He nods taking your hand and leading you to cuddle you to death. (probably)

Next morning was something else...

"I want to call you something in Hindi, like a nickname. " He says from the dining table chair, as you prepare breakfast.

"Is there a special reason?" You ask plating the French toast now.

"No reason, I just want to." He says pulling you into him, smushing his face into your chest. You giggled at him.

"Okay" You replied, moving back to sit down next to him.

(Later)

"What about 'love'?"

"Pyaar."

"Princess?"

"Rajkumari."

"Angel?"

"Pari."

"I don't love any of them." Chan whined, looking up at you from his head placed on your lap. Doe eyes on complete display with utter annoyance glazed over them.

"You don't have to use them Channie, just call me 'baby' or something. I really don't mind." You assure him, not wanting to make him feel worse.

"But you call me 'jagi' sometimes and it makes me feel all tingly. I wanna do the same." He says, a little sad.

"Oh, what did your mom call you last night? Right before she hung up." He says sitting up straight and turning to you.

"Jigar ka tukda?" He nods violently at your words.

"Chan that means 'piece of my liver', it's not very endearing when it's translated but it's the sweetest thing in Hindi. Also, that's more of a parent-child nickname." You say as his expression turned from excited to grossed out to sad, again.

"Do you think we'll find something cute in animals?" He asks clearly determined to find a suitable name to call you.

"Maybe, I don't know." You shrugged.

"Bunny?"

"Khargosh...nope."

"Agreed, pup?"

"I'd rather you don't call me that at all."

"I was just teasing. Butterfly?"

"Titli."

"Why does it sound weird?" He asks as his face scrunches up.

"You're just saying that cause all you hear when I say it is 'Tit'." You giggle pinching his cheek.

"I do." He laughs, a light blush covering his neck.

"Let's pause this topic here, I'm hungry." You say to him pouting.

"Let's go out, I know this dude, that is an a-mazing chef." He gets up from the sofa pulling you up with his hand in yours and walking towards the door.

A few minutes later you were inside the cuties dorm.

"So by 'going out' you meant the dorms?"

"I meant, anywhere but home."

"And by 'a-mazing chef' you meant Minho?"

"Yep." He pops the 'p' at the end, kisses your temple before informing you that he's gonna go annoy Felix in his room.

You sit down beside Seungmin and Jeongin on the sofa as they play Mario Kart, very focused.

They greet with smiles and nods and hums.

You don't say much either as they seemed engrossed and you didn't wanna see them whine about loosing because of you later at lunch.

"Lunch is served." Says Minho standing in the middle of the dorm in an cartoonish voice.

Everybody settled on the dining table, Minho began to describe the meal he had prepared as the maknaes looked impatient to dig in.

Jeongin taking a bite as soon as Minho finished so everyone could start eating, earning an eye roll from Minho making Chan laugh a little.

"Jaan, could you pass the salt."

You pass the salt to him before fully processing what he said and freezed...

"What....did you call me?" You look at him, a little shocked but also curious.

"Jaan, do you like it?" He asks, looking at his plate, a little shy now as the boys were looking at you both in interest.

"Do I like it?? Channie that's like the best nickname anyone could ever use!!" You smile the widest with a blushing face and kiss his cheek while hugging his side, almost falling down.

He hugs you back of course (saving you from face-planting) laughing to himself.

A gagging sound from Seungmin brought you back to reality, as you looked around you saw a smirk from Felix.

"Did you use Google?" The first thing you asked as soon as you were out of the cuties dorm as your curiosity got the best of you.

"I didn't, jaan." Be says glancing at you with a proud smile before looking back to the road.

Everytime he used it, it felt unreal.

Did he even know the meaning. Of course he did. He wouldn't use such a word all the time without knowing the meaning right?

"Do you know what it means?" You ask, wondering how he found out about it if not for Google.

"Yeah, means you're my life." He answers grinning wide, glancing at you again to gauge your expression. You looked just about ready to be a ripe tomato wanting to melt away.

"How do you know it?" You couldn't just leave it, he could've seen it on the internet somewhere, Hindi wasn't exactly an unpopular language.

"Okay fine, I called your mom and she said she didn't have any but your dad always uses the word for her, so I asked her for the meaning." He says parking the car and coming around to open your door for you.

"So now you're besties with maa?" You snicker at him and walk towards your apartment door.

He's right behind you, his hands on your waist walking into the flat with you and kicking the door closed behind him.

"Can't blame me jaan, you're besties with my entire family." He says kissing your cheek and plopping down on the sofa, patting the space next to him.

"Hayee meri jaan, mera to dil aa gaya." You say kissing him and snuggling in his chest.

(My life, you've got my heart)

"I'm too tired to look for the meaning today. Let's sleep." He says kissing the top of your head and leading you to the bedroom.

"Old man needs his sleep." Seungmin's jokes rubbing off on you was not something Chan was pleased about as he mumbled a 'sure old woman' before pulling you into bed, into his chest to waft away into dreamland.

"Jaan, meri jaan." A soft whisper left his lips before kissing your temple and falling into a deep sleep.

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