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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Note

can you do a ghost version of the Memories of Youth fic you did for price please?

Harvest Storms

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Daughter!Reader

SYNOPSIS: In the process of trying to keep you happy and separate from him, he was leading you down the exact path he had tried to steer you from.

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

WARNINGS: Angst, emotionally distant father/Simon, injuries, arguments, mentions of Simon's past, hurt/comfort, fluff near the end, etc.

A/N: I know this might be controversial but I really don't see Simon wanting kids so I tried to keep this realistic but also cute, lmao. Enjoy!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Simon admitted that having a kid was never on his to-do list, and it wasn’t only his job that caused that. In fact, at any point in his life, the thought alone terrified him.

His icy eyes spaced out as the man unstrapped his combat vest in the on-base armory, hucking it over his head with a tiny grunt. Muscles ached; wounds burned.

He’d known having that one-night stand wasn’t right—he should have just stuck to his perfected solitude of dark rooms and middle-of-the-night workouts. But there was only so much you could do before instinct overcame any sort of common sense; add a few drinks into the mix and the concoction had glazed over his mind like a honey-laced dream.

And then nine months later a single text. A photo attachment.

“She’s yours.” His child. His daughter. Simon had a daughter.

It had taken weeks of self-isolation to figure out what to do. There were moments of very real panic—bone-deep worry and hatred. He couldn’t be a father and still be the Ghost that he was now, but there wasn’t a way to reverse his already damaged psyche. Home in Manchester didn’t feel like a real place anymore; home was a gun in his hands and his mask over his face. Slumping bodies and adrenaline-blown pupils. The high he got out of killing could never be topped by the joys of having a family he didn’t want.

But then he remembered his own father and the guilt that had struck him at that moment left Simon physically sick. Head pounding and bile lacing his tongue as he retched over a toilet. It would have been easier to just promise money, and give over some of what he earned to give you a future. He could distance himself but still be a shadow on the wall if it all went south.

Yes, it could have been easy.

Until your mother up and disappeared; leaving you all alone. There was no way in hell he could leave you in foster care. The stories he’d heard…

Simon’s gloved hands flex, joints cracking, before he checks the watch on his wrist with slow-blinking eyes. He needed to be home in two hours.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” A groan escapes, rolling his shoulders twice before grasping at his thigh holster—slipping out the X12 to place it down with a small thump of black metal.

These movements were entirely routine and soon there was a neat line of multiple knives, the pistol, an automatic rifle, frag grenades, med pack, rope, and anything else that Ghost could have even the slightest possibility of needing in a tight spot. Through it all, the mask stayed; icy eyes behind the spread of black face paint numb.

It’s one hour later that he’s done cleaning and putting everything away with tired fingers. Feet shuffle before he’s exiting the armory all together, snatching the large duffle bag near the double doors; a small grunt plays out of his chest. The strap is dragged over his head when Soap passes him in the base’s hallway.

All Simon could do is hold back a groan as a headache already begins to form.

“Lt.” The Scot calls, smile pulling his lips up, “off to go hide in back-alleys, then?”

“Jesus, Johnny, shut the fuck up already.” Ghost grumbles out, hands slipping into his pockets as he continues off down the hallway. Behind him, the mohawked Sergeant belts out a laugh before disappearing into the armory Simon had just vacated.

“Copy and check, Sir!” Sarcasm bleeds out and makes icy eyes fall half-closed with subdued annoyance.

The large phantom continues on until he exits the base and digs his keys out of his pockets—finding his car in the underground parking garage exactly where he had left it two months prior. As if on autopilot, he shuffles open the door and tosses his bag in the back before sitting in the front seat and twisting the ignition.

Reaching into the glove compartment, Simon pulls out a clean balaclava and holds it loosely—his opposite hand slipping up to the skeletal mask of his head and feeling the fibers on his fingertips. Replacing it swiftly, the clean fabric slips over his face with a stiff movement of his arm. Seconds later, his foot presses into the gas.

There are no words spoken, no comments under breath, just a silence that seems to stem from some underlying anxiety completely foreign to Simon on the field. Going home always made him nervous. A soul-digging kind of hesitation.

It takes him the rest of that last hour to drive home—a tiny little country house far removed from Manchester though still leaving it well guarded by local law-enforcement patrols. A perfect mix of safety and distance that had been the driving force in Simon’s initial purchase of it. But it wasn’t his only properly, not by a long shot.

Like a rat, the holes of his paranoia ran deep into the earth.

He pulls the car into the dirt driveway and kills the vehicle. Outside in the darkening sky, his eyes slide to watch over the top of the garden wall; seeing tree branches sway in a subdued breeze. Sitting there for a few moments, the man just ends up shaking his head and shoving open the door with his shoulder.

Veins tighten under his flesh.

“Kid!” Simon raps on the front door with his knuckles when his boots take him over and up the steps, voice gravelly. A house key slips into the lock, turning over before the barrier opens. Ghost stomps in and immediately knows the entire home is completely empty.

He blinks in confusion, looking over the still air and dull noises. The AC unit whirls; the fridge shakes. No feet on the floor—no groan or sly comment.

You were a teenager now, but the absence of your aura was harsh to him. You were supposed to be here. The Manchester man’s lips thin.

“Christ, don’t go and tell me she’s fuckin’ gone again…” Simon kicks the door shut and lets his bag fall from his fingers, feeling his chest tighten slowly. He beelines to the kitchen where, sure enough, a note from the far-off neighbor who keeps an eye on you when he’s gone was sitting with its delicate font.

Fast fingers snatch it like a snake, jaw clenched and tight grip creasing the paper. He reads with a growing disappointment.

“She got into a fight out of school again—black eye and bruised knuckles. I’m sorry, Mr. Riley, but I couldn’t get a hold of you to tell you about it. I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father. When you read this, I’ll have tried to make her come back inside but I was unsuccessful. I left supper at the base of the hill and a blanket. I’m sorry. I’ll be at my home if you need me.”

Simon places the note down and runs a hand up and down his face, a deep sigh exiting his lips as his fingers cover his jaw and chin. Like the definition of fatigue, his body lightly bows forward. Slouched shoulders.

This would make the fifth fight this year.

I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father.

After a minute of mute irritation, the man drops his hands and goes to the freezer, taking out an ice pack with a small glint of further emotion stinted in his gaze. There are so many things that Simon feels for you—some of which he would never be able to properly express.

He’s not a good man. Not someone to look up to or place on a pedestal. He’s in the 141 because he can do a job; a job that not many others can do simply for the fact that something in him was broken. Shattered beyond repair.

Simon was never meant for this.

The blond placed the ice pack into a rag from the drawer and exited through the back door of the house. Grunt stuck in his throat at the thought of the delinquent activities you seemed to always get up to when he was gone which, admittingly, was more often than not.

I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father.

But wasn’t he doing a good thing by staying away? He took you in—provided food, water, shelter, and anything else you could need. What was he doing wrong?

Simon’s brows tighten as the chilled air hits him as a winder wind would. By now the sun had fully set and the darkness was becoming more black than blue by the second; dim twinklings from stars dancing in the pupils of his eyes. His feet take him off the back porch and easily finds a small trail that leads through the barren garden all the way to a hill in the distance.

Icy blue easily finds the tiny hunched being at the very top. His hand tightens over the ice pack.

Ghost was unable to understand, of course, he hadn’t had the kind of childhood people would want—was never around kids in general. No friends with little brats running around, obviously. Was this a normal kind of thing kids did? Start fights?

He’d heard some things about teenagers.

Closing his tired eyes for a moment, Simon silently walks past the plate of food at the foot of the hill but snatches the fluffy blanket that had been beside it. If you don’t want to eat he won't force you, but it was getting cold out quickly.

Simon wasn’t letting you catch a bug.

He huffs as he ascends the slope, all the aches and pains finally making themself more known in his thighs and abdomen.

You hear him coming when he’s three-fourths of the way there.

Your red eyes widen in shock, hands that had been trapping your legs to your chest rising to wipe the tears on your cheeks away aggressively; frantic. Three seconds later a heavy fabric hits your head and you tense, widely looking up into the dead eyes of your father.

The blanket thumps to the ground beside you in a heap.

“Put it on,” he grunts from behind his balaclava and your surprised expression slowly sours.

You turn away with a growl. “Don’t want to.”

“Bloody ‘ell, just put it on,” there’s no acidity behind the words, but the annoyance is clear. “Asking to get fuckin’ sick at this rate, are you? I’m not cleanin’ up your vomit from the floor when you're hunched over like a mutt on drugs.”

Not a stranger to his humor, but with a venom-laced look, you grab the blanket as Simon sits next to you and end up throwing it over your shoulders. Your face hurt too much to talk for long periods—right eye swollen and radiating heat; hands weren't that much better, the knuckles puffy and blood-flooded under the skin. It made you flinch when you had to clench your fingers.

You’re acutely aware of your father’s presence. How he sits with his spine bent with one hand behind him; legs laying out flat. You should be happy he’s back safe in one piece, but in reality, there would be little change if he never showed back up at all.

The house was always silent anyways. Dead. Simon was as much a stranger to you as he was to everyone else.

“What did I tell you when I went away, eh?” The man asks you lowly when you’ve settled, and you grit your teeth and look out over the landscape, long grass swaying in the wind. “Kid.”

“Don’t get into any more fights.” Words are stiff, reflective of both of your muscles and hearts.

“Affirmative. You want to explain to me what you did?”

“Got into another fight.” An icepack is tossed near you, bouncing in the grass. You scoff but take it, softly applying it to your face with a concealed flinch. Shame permeates in your ribs, a desperate need to prove yourself. “I didn’t mean to—”

“That’s not an excuse.” Simon glares at you from the side of his eye, utterly serious. “When I tell you something, you listen, yeah?”

“...Yeah,” you grit your teeth and clench your hands, a bitter huff leaving your lips. “Sure.”

A tense silence keeps you in its clutches, the kind of silence that stems from two people who really have no idea how to speak or understand one another.

“No more fighting,” Simon grits out, “now show me.”

“It’s not that bad—”

“Show me it.” Your face burns as you slip the ice pack away and turn your face his way, meeting your father’s gaze head-on and seeing his lids slightly pull back. You spy his hand clenching in the grass, ripping strands out like hair from a head.

“Happy?” You sarcastically ask, turning back forward and putting the ice pack back into your socket.

It’s a long while before he speaks to you again, and you can feel his gaze burning into the side of your face when he does. Your heart rampages at the deathly slow and tiny voice.

“Why?” The question makes your body flair with anger and you grip the pack tighter, feeling the ice shift in your grip as you clench it violently. You feel your fingers twitch when you answer, unconsciously closing into fists.

“Why?” You glare at him, “Why the hell do you care?”

Simon’s eyes go blank, brows going up his head. Gazes lock and you’re suddenly standing to your feet, chucking the ice pack right into his chest. It only makes you madder when he catches it easily, glancing down at the object before slowly shifting his numb eyes back to you.

“You’re never fucking here, what’s the point in telling you anything about me?” Your father’s face is covered, but the mask is more than just physical—it’s a part of him in every sense. You don’t know what he is, but you see his lungs going still in his ribs. You splay your hands around you as the blanket hits the ground at your feet. “It wouldn’t even make a difference if you never came back! Even when you’re here it barely even matters beyond who’s dishes are in the sink.”

Bitter tears spring to your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, a tight itch in your skin. Slight guilt hits you when you shove out such harsh words, but you don’t care enough right now to think about what you’re saying. Everything just hits a breaking point. Shaking your head you scoff again, weaker this time. “You don’t even know the first things about me and you want me to try and explain why I do the things I do?”

Simon watches and listens, stone still. It’s as if he doesn’t even breathe; his pulse doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. If you would have been able to see it, you’d have noticed the way the large man’s lips were slightly parted.

He wasn’t averse to arguments, he yelled on Ops and cursed aggressively on duty, but he had made a stark promise to himself to never yell at you. If there was one thing that reminded him of his father—it was that. Explosive fights that only ended one way.

What you were saying was everything he knew to be true. This came to him in a slow and silent realization of growing pain. Simon didn’t know your favorite color or what food you loved. Your interests or your goals.

He knew how much you spent on snacks at the store, but didn’t know what you bought.

Ghost clenches his jaw and watches your resolve deteriorate with a heavy heart. What was he supposed to do? He was your father, sure, but…he didn’t know the first things that went with anything beyond giving you items and objects.

I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father.

How could he be a father to you?

Simon clears his throat, for once in his life completely unable to pull on any sort of skill to rectify this situation. You take his silence as blatant disregard.

With a burning face, you sniffle and twist on your heel, speed-walking down the hill back into the house. Your brain is pounding in your head, just as fast as your heart when you finally stomp through the garden and shove open the back door.

Simon doesn’t tell you to stop.

Left on that hill, he watches your back disappear into the house and gets a rabid pain in his stone heart. You were his daughter. You were hurt; neglected. He’d never felt like this before.

Simon had failed the only job that he knew was far more important than any other. Blue darkens into a color reminiscent of storm clouds.

“Fuckin’ Christ.” Standing, he snatches at the ice pack and the blanket, lightly jogging down the mound of earth. In no time he’s standing in the house again, having completely forgotten about the plate of food outside. It’s the tense set of his shoulders that really give away how unprepared he feels. How out of his expertise.

Give Simon a gun and he’d be able to take it apart and reassemble it in one minute; a knife and he’d have it sharp in seconds.

Simon Riley has no idea how to be a good father and he’s suddenly very aware of how fast the window is closing to try. You were his blood and his responsibility. He can’t end up like his own father.

The thought almost makes him sick again, stomach rolling with anxiety.

Inside the house, he tosses the items in his grip onto the couch and whispers past into the hallway to your room. Fingers twitching, he grabs at his balaclava before ripping it from his head; stuffing it into his pants pocket. Stopping in front of your room, Simon raises a hand.

Just as he’s about to shove open the door, he instantaneously stops himself with a sharp thought.

Daughter, not soldier. Home, not barracks.

Hand lowering, he takes a long and deep breath and waits a moment; gathering himself. He still didn’t know what to say…but…

God, your words hurt, but he needed to hear them because they were true.

Simon’s knuckles rasp on the wood, a series of three dull thumps that echo over the stale air. There’s a shuffling of sheets and a dull, “God, just go away!”

Cursing quietly under his breath, Simon runs his fingers through his hair tense-like; pushing back blond strands.

“Open up for me, yeah?” He tries, awkward as his hips shift weight. “Need ‘ta talk to you.”

A cruel laugh exits from under the bottom of the door. “You? Talk?”

Simon keeps his mouth shut and closes his eyes, pulling from the deep pit of patience he holds for on-duty missions and not mastered yet for disagreements and verbal talks. He calms down and rolls his shoulders slightly.

“Please.” A pin could drop.

It’s a long, hot-air moment before there's the padding of feet over the floor and the slight shift of the door handle. The metal jiggles before it’s twisted back with a firm hand.

Your face comes into view through the tiny crack of the door, injured eye on full display in all its swollen glory. A young face is laced with surprise at seeing your father’s bare visage—only the black face paint stuck to his skin—but even more so at his plea. There were only a few times you’d actually seen him and even fewer when you’d hear something like that. Simon stops himself from getting angry at the sight of your wound, staring down at you as his gaze softens just a fraction of a sliver.

He recalls the moment he had first held your form when he had picked you up at hospital years ago. You were so small, squirming in his foreign grip. The nurse had to tell him how to hold you properly—what to do and what not to do.

It had been the first time that Simon could really say he’d been terrified down to his marrow; sweating and lips pulled tight. This being so small it couldn’t do anything by itself had rendered him frozen with unease like he had been stabbed in the heart. Your eyes had looked up at him with trust and love. You hadn’t cried or screamed at his hidden face, even if he thought you should have…you’d done something worse.

You had reached up to his face and placed your little fingers on his brow, slapping his flesh with no strength or hatred. Simon’s gaze never left you for hours after you’d done that, uncharacteristically warm and rendered mute to all else.

Tiny. Weak. Innocent.

How could anybody ever leave you? Hurt you? But the man had been petrified; utterly fearful to the point he would begin shaking when you’d begin crying for a bottle.

In the process of trying to keep you happy and separate from him, he was leading you down the exact path he had tried to steer you from.

“What?” Your crestfallen voice brings him back and he blinks, expression going blank once more. But he tries.

“Can I come in?”

“I don’t know—are you going to give a lecture?” You ask, eyes red and other hand still holding the door handle. Simon breathes out a grunted sigh.

“Negative, Moppet, no lecture.” He relaxes his posture, eye bags plainly visible. He was so tired his fingers had gone numb. “Jus’ need ‘ta…” Words fail him. What did he need to do?

Simon clears his throat, looking off down the hallway before his eyes drift back to you.

“You land a hit, then?” You blink in silent shock at the graveled question, a hitch in your lungs giving way to confusion.

“I…” your feet shuffle, face burning, “what?”

One of your father’s large hands goes up to rub the back of his neck, fingers creating red lines across his flesh as his chest rises and falls. You could immediately tell he had no idea what he was doing.

But…he was trying.

“A hit,” he vaguely gestures to your eye, staring intensely. “Did you get ‘em back?”

It’s a vague few moments before you respond, oddly touched by the question. Your door opens the slightest bit wider.

“More than one person,” you admit hesitantly. Your father’s gaze darkens but you quickly continue. “T-they look worse than me right now.”

Simon nods stiffly, hands going to slide into his pockets. “That’ll do,” a pause, “...‘cause I can’t beat up teenagers without getting into a fuckin’ heap ‘o shit.”

Your heart lurches with amusement and a small smile grows on your face. You stare, still just a tiny bit confused at the sudden shift, but unable to stop the chuckle you let out. He doesn’t know how to describe the feeling in his chest when his ears twitch at the sound of your humor, yet Simon pulls a smirk to his lips. It made him…content, you could say.

“Who said they were teenagers?” you smirk, tinting your head, and your father immediately frowns, unamused. Brows pull in.

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“No, it isn’t. Shut your bloody trap.” The air lightens to a degree you hadn’t experienced before. A silence settles before you break it, vision darting down to spy on the dog tags Simon wears.

“...How long are you staying?” The man hums, licking his lips.

I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father.

“I’m off as long as it takes to get you to stop picking fights, yeah?” Your fingers flinch and you stare into eyes that are always like ice, except now try to melt themselves into a chilled puddle.

“Change of heart?” You ask, voice subdued. A bitter hope builds in your veins.

Simon motions with his chin for you to open the door to your room and you do, elbowing it to the side before backing up—letting your father’s large frame enter.

He looks around for a moment at the posters and the bits of personality, glaring internally at himself because he didn’t know what you liked at all. He seems disappointed with his own negligence.

He’d really fucked up.

“C’mere,” Simon goes and snatches your desk chair before he whirls it around, “lemme take a proper look at it.” His hand pats the top of the wood and you listen, going to it and sitting down softly.

Your father kneels in front of you, bones cracking, and he delicately grabs hold of your chin to tilt your head to the side with practiced ease. You avoid his eyes, hands in your lap held tight together in this silence that brews from shared thorns.

Simon has to take a deep breath to get his head out of his rage at the sight of your damaged skin; instinctual reaction to guard you rearing its head even more so now that he can see the injury in the dim light of your desk lamp. His thumb caresses the side of the swelling with intense care.

“Won’t die,” is all he can say, voice hard and strained. “Lucky you, eh?” You scoff and his hands leave—there wasn’t much he could do. “Moppet.”

Eyes slide up to his and his grip finds your bicep, squeezing once. You’re momentarily locked at the sight of real concern in his glinting orbs; a once in a blue moon occurrence.

“Give me your word.” Simon levels firmly, feet shifting. “No more of this. You’re gonna end up gettin’ hurt—badly—you got that?”

“They were calling soldiers cannon fodder.” You glare at your hands in your lap, mumbling out the truth with a burning face mixed with shame and honesty. Your father goes silent. “That they weren’t even good enough for bullets.”

Jaw clenching, you rotate your wrist and feel the flare of pain from the joints. A deep sigh exits from Simon and with a hesitant clench of his jaw, his hand travels to the back of your head. He presses firmly, and your face finds the junction of his neck and shoulder with little fight. Tense in the beginning, you slowly breathe in sweat and tarmac with a gradual loosening feeling in your muscles.

Eyes wide, you slowly begin to return the strange embrace. Your father flinches lightly when your fingers slip along his waist, hands grabbing into his shirt. But like you, time makes him calm—the side of his face connects with the side of your scalp, lashes fluttering closed tightly.

It was you. His daughter. Innocent.

The emotions are so foreign to you that it brings a burning behind your eyes as the minutes lengthen.

Simon can’t even begin to process it, it just felt natural to do such things for you. If there was one thing he did know—it was that he didn’t want to see you in pain or suffering; hurt or eyes filled with pain. His hands slip to bring you up into his arms like you were a baby again, carrying you easily as your nose sniffles with restrained tears. You’re placed in your bed with a delicate plop, icy eyes darting over you until it seems a decision is made with a quick nod.

You watch him leave and return seconds later with a pile of manilla folders in his hands. Your father grunts softly, “Go to sleep. It’s late out,” and drops the items to your desk, sitting down with a huff and a squeal from your chair. The air is warm and you sit in it a moment longer.

Eyes blink at the silhouette before a small smile builds on your lips—genuine and warm like a weighted blanket.

“How long are you gonna be there?” You ask your father, grasping the covers and slipping under as your head hits the pillow; making sure to stay on the uninjured side.

He doesn’t turn around.

“All night. Need ‘ta get this shite done for my boss.” You don’t know why, but you feel like he’s lying. Simon looks over his shoulder with a tone dipping to a whisper. “Sleep, Kid. We’ll get those knuckles sorted in the morning.”

Of course, he’d noticed that, too.

“Dad?” You ask and his spine straightens instantly at the title. It’s a long time before he answers and when he does his emotion is the softest you’ve ever heard him; gravel so deep you almost miss the words entirely.

“What is it?”

“Goodnight.” Simon’s hands shake as they open the first folder in the small stack, small tremors that are both horrible and endearing. He doesn’t say anything until you’re fast asleep behind him—when he stands up and walks over, pressing a kiss to your forehead and pulling the covers farther up to your chin.

Into your skin, he whispers, “...Goodnight, my little Moppet.”

Simon wonders if his daughter likes eggs for breakfast as his pen slides over the first report, one eye forever staying on your slumbering body to watch the rise and fall of your lungs.

TAGS:

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pinkpigtailsprincess · 1 month

Text

Hot Summer Dayz: Jammin n’ Jamica!! ☀️🛍️

Dolly is typing…..��🎀….(1) NEW FROM; Dolly!🛍️

HI DOLLIES!! Welcome 2 My Next Summer Post where i cover how to not only have the best summer vacay/staycation but also give some useful tips on beating the summer heat!!

> Planning + Shopping !! 🛍️

> Knowing ur Location !! 🏝️

> Fun Summer activities to maximize ur Staycation !! ⭐️

> How 2 Beat the Summer Heat!! 👙

Planning + Shopping! *࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ🛍️

When shopping 4 outfits 4 vacay/spring/sumemr we wanna make sure we not only make sure we’re comfortable in out clothes but also make sure they’re breathable and not too heavy or baggy!! bc obvis were gonna be in harsh sunny weather!! you pick up pieces that wre stylish nd serene!! here are some pieces i definitely recommend!!👙

Halter Tops

Cami Tops

Daisy Dukes

Flowy midi skirts

colorful platform shoes

strapless mini dress

miniskirts!!

jellyfish dresses

croptops

cute open toe shoes!!

stylish sunglasses!!

swimsuit tops

if its a stay in day or you don’t feel like dressing up an oversized white t-shirt but dress it up more!!

if you want to try to stray away from wearing darker/black color palettes bc they can absorb more heat

Knowing ur Location! *࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ🏝️

When Traveling 2 a New city,state,country you always want to be mindful of where you are,how this place operates and how to be like the locals!! + also knowing about weather!! my tips….

If ur traveling to a new country learn some of the basics of the language to communicate properly!!

Learn how they drive,speak,how they pay etc.

always keep money on you obvii!!

SUNSCREEN.SUNSCREEN.SUNSCREEN. ik this is already bible for some people but im gonna keep saying bc its soo important when traveling to places that are closer the equator & countries that are known to be hotter ALWAYS HAVE SUNSCREEN. and not just ur regular SPF 30 try using spf 50! like for me this summer i’ll be in place like san diego,florida & saint thomas and they have really harsh suns especially in summer im gonna need a way stronger SPF than my regular 30 to always be sure to have a stronger SPF everywhere!!

always be friendly with the locals its nice to always be friendly no matter what

educate urself on the country!!

while ur there try learning some new skills

Fun Summer Activities 2 Maximize ur Staycation! ☀️👙

For my Girls that are staying in their home state,country here are some super fun activities for you to try so you can also join in on the summer fun!!

Make a Bucketlist

Make cute Crafts

Go to the pool or beach with ur friends!!

cut up summer fruit and make a fruit salad

take up a new hobby!!

have a movie night + sleepover

go shopping

try a fun new workout

if u have a younger sibling play outside with them!

Watch ur favorite movies

water ballon fights!

CARNIVALS!!

painting at the beach

aquariums or planetarium

karaoke!

play a new video game!

Beating the Summer Heat !! 🎀☀️

Obvi its gonna b super hot during summer and sometimes unbearably hot out but its okay bc i have some super fun way 2 beat the heat!! 👙

Go 2 The Pool!

Cold Treats ie: ice scream,icee,slushies

drink ice cold water

eat some cold fruit watermelon,grapes,pineapple,honeydew

Stay hydrated!!

eat some cold meals!!

have a water gun fight!

Itz been fun!! Dolly Signing off….💗

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mudisgranapat · 3 months

Text

FitnessInfluencer!Reader x GymBro!Ghost

so i’ve recently really gotten into going to the gym and i can’t stop thinking about Ghost working out and reader being an annoying influencer that is always recording at the gym. the last thing he needs is a camera in his face when he is trying to work out and de-compress from his deployment.

After finally finding a 24 hour gym, you get your things ready to film your content. Your youtube channel is one of the most popular nowadays, and it’s the platform where you make most of your videos. Most of them teach people workout series, ranging from stuff they can do at home, hardcore exercises and even a step to step guide on how to use each gym equipment, so newbies don’t get scared of training for the first time by themselves. However, sometimes, you do some vlogging on the side, showing your daily routine and other things, like skincare.

You figure 3 am is a good time to go to the gym and record - no one is at training by then and your schedule is already fucked anyways. Not having an office or regular work hours has its ups and downs, but at least you are in charge of own routine, since you make a surprisingly good amount of money from your videos.

You take your own time, making a protein smoothie (and obvioulsy recording it, as you had a paid partnership with the supplement’s brand) and writing down your ideas for the video you want to do today. You stick to a simple “leg day” vlog, typing on your phone what machines and reps you want to do.

Choosing a simple purple top and matching leggings, you make your way towards the gym on your Range Rover, Stanley cup filled with water on the cup holder. You roll your eyes as you make a turn and can feel the water dripping out of the cup. You make a note to yourself to bring a water bottle the actually works next time and keep it off camera, so the useless cup can just sit on frame for aesthetic purposes while your record.

If you had to point out one thing you hated about your job, it would be having to keep up with all the (in your opinion, useless) trends, so you could reach a bigger audience. At the end of the day, it was about making money, although you loved how your content got to inspire people to be more active. If it meant you had to carry a metal 40oz lead poisoned cup with you for a couple of hours, then so be it.

As soon as you park your car at the gym’s empty parking lot, you pull out your vlog camera, not noticing the single black truck parked in the far corner, under a tree.

Sometimes you wonder if you would hate your “vlog persona” if you met her in real life. Repeating the same phrases over and over again, trying to get the best take, constantly looking for better lighting. What looks good on camera, in real life, just looks painfully awkward sometimes, specially when you are talking to an audience that isn’t even there. You push those thoughts to the back of your head, as you slide your card at the gym’s card reader, opening the doors.

“Anyways, guys. I know it sounds crazy right?” You make your way into the gym, re-recording the introduction at least 3 times so you know you’ll have good material to edit later. “Training at 3 a.m. I don’t even know if it’s technically morning or night right now.” You joke to the camera. “Let me know in the comments if I should start the videos with ‘Good morning’ or ‘Goodni’-“ a hand suddenly grabs the camera from your hand, holding it right above your head. You stare at the man who seemed to materialise out of the shadows.

“How about ‘Goodbye’.” He says, and you barely have time to register his sarcasm as he slams your camera on the floor, breaking it in pieces. You stand there, frozen, while the man swings his duffel bag over his shoulders and heads out of the gym.

When you finally regain your senses, he is long gone, and you’re left wondering to yourself, not only who he is, but also who does he think he is. You barely had time to register what he looked like, simply recalling we was well over 6ft tall and build like a fucking tank. But regardless of his built, if he believes, even for a second, that he can do something like that and just walk away unscathed, he is dead wrong.

You can’t wait to see him again.

A.N: wrote this with my eyes literally closing, but i just couldn’t get it out of my head (sorry for any mistakes, def not proofread). hopefully it’s not complete shit. let me know if you want to see more of this! i could see this becoming either a short series or at least having one more part. Let me know if you want to be tagged if this has a part 2 :)

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley made me lose my sleep and now i will make him suffer by writing angst #simon riley imagine #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader

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bangtanfanfiction · 4 months

Text

hopelessly falling → k. sunwoo (tbz)

Based on this ask.

♢ Pairing: Sunwoo x Idol!female Reader → Idol AU

♢ Word count: 6.8k

♢ Trope: 8th f!member of BTS, strangers-to-lovers, Older!woman x Younger!man

♢ Genre: Fluff, suggestive, angst if you squint ig

⌲ Description: Being the 8th female member of BTS has brought you more trials than you could count. Now being the only one left behind after their enlistments was another obstacle you struggled adjusting to, until you found yourself hopelessly falling for someone completely unexpected. ↳ Warnings: Makeout session, swearing. Sunwoo being a flirty menace but we're loving it.

HOBI: Good luck, Y/N! You’ll crush it like always! JIMIN: You’ll do great! JIN: We’ll be monitoring you :)) YOONGS: Don’t be nervous, you’ll be amazing, kiddo. JOONIE: Y/N fighting! JK: Fighting! TAE: Go, go, go Y/N!

Despite the relentless thumping of your heart, or the cold sweat building up on the surface of your skin - there was no hiding the loving smile pulling at your lips as you scrolled through the messages in the group chat bombarding the notifications without you having to even ask.

Your members knew you well enough at this point after more than ten years together that when you went radio silent on all platforms, it meant you were drowning in your nerves.

Frankly, how couldn‘t you? You were the last of BTS to release your solo album, and only after all of them had enlisted into the military with you sending them off accompanied by a snotty nose each time. If you could, you probably would have enlisted as well despite being a woman just to not be alone until Seokjin or Hobi were to return.

Ah…This was hard. You thought, dropping the phone back on the table and looking yourself in the mirror.

Taking in your elaborate makeup and clothes, hair styled to perfection not a single speck of mascara or blush out of place. You were surrounded by people; your management team and stylists. People who had been with you for more than five years, but the loneliness had never felt more heavy than today.

You thought you had prepared yourself for it. Mentally that is. Your boys had also been exceptionally worried for your mental well-being for when it was time and made sure to give you all sorts of ways to communicate with them.

The irony was that you actually enjoyed your own space. Being alone at home for days and doing nothing besides your usual workout routine was ideal, truly.

Until you understood the saying ´You don't know what you have until it's gone.´

Clearly not as overly dramatic or depressing as the original meaning. But still, you felt their absence all the same.

The only comfort you could find from this was Yoongi with his alternative enlistment and still being around for you to find comfort in after his working hours.

But you hadn’t sought out his presence for a couple of weeks now, being too busy with your prep and wanting to let him get used to his new routine before barging in with your cries of loneliness.

“Maybe I should get a boyfriend…” You muttered to yourself, catching the delighted attention of your main stylist unnie, Aera, whose eyes widened at those words.

“You want a boyfriend?” She straightened up as if finding a 50 percent off sale on designer goods, making you regret having spoken at all. “Ooo, do you want me to introduce you to someone? I can set up a blind date! You like them like ten years older, don’t you? All alpha male and stuff? I know a couple of men like that.”

Her ranting and frankly too-knowledgeable about your preferences made you heat up in slight exasperation.

Okay, so what - you tended to gravitate towards buff, white men in their late thirties bordering on forties. Just because you might faint at the sight of Henry Cavill or Chris Evans hardly meant much for your real-life preferences.

Ask Jimin. You dated him – a brief one year - and he was hardly a carbon copy of Captain America or The Witcher.

“Unnie, I’ve already told you…”

Aera sighed before mimicking what you hardly believed sounded like yourself. “I know, I know. I’m not looking for anyone, it happens when it happens.”

It wasn’t the first time you’ve had this conversation with her.

“Besides, why is everyone being so pushy about me finding someone?” You directed this question to the rest of the room, who laughed amongst themselves at the truth of it.

“Because your last boyfriend was Jimin, and that is honestly sad, darling.” Your manager, Yoo-Mi, piped up from the corner while scrolling through her phone. Probably double checking your upcoming schedules and forward emails to the rest of the staff. She was always working despite you begging her to take it easy sometimes.

Turning around in your chair, you frowned. “It’s only been three years.” Going into the fourth since your mutual breakup.

“Exactly, sad.” She didn’t relent, making your shoulders slump, another titter of fond laughter spread through the room. “Listen, Jiminie is great, of course he is. So we don’t blame you for already reaching the top when it comes to standards in men. But when was the last time you had a crush?”

“A crush?” Even the word sounded foreign to you.

“Henry Cavill does not count.”

“But that’s a crush!” You exclaimed. “I could pull him.”

“That’s not a crush, that’s a fantasy. You haven’t even met the man.”

“Rude…” You mumbled with a pout, though admitting defeat.

Damn, so everyone thought your dating life was dry and depressing. Great.

You knew they all meant well, acting like an overbearing family. And in the end, they just wanted you to be happy.

“Y/N it’s time to head out.”

Standing up you took one last overview in the mirror before typing out a reply to the group chat.

Y/N: I'm off now! Love you!

You had completely forgotten how music shows worked. It had been three years since the group promoted for ‘ON’ in the midst of covid with countless of measurements. You hadn’t stepped foot on a show since, besides supporting your members for their recent promotions.

It had also been more than a year since you’ve done any performances within Korea, having only just returned from your American solo promotions - so for you, everything felt more awkward than familiar despite your years of experience in the industry.

You heard the cheers of the crowd just as you walked into the studio where the live recording was going on for another boygroup, the hard-hitting smooth beats making your head nod as you stopped in front of a screen to overlook the stage.

Staff moved around you, securing a mic-pack before your sparkling microphone with a gradient purple to black found itself in your hand. The fans were screaming and chanting, and you found your attention caught without realizing it.

You counted ten guys on the screen as they danced fiercely in commendable synchronization looking like one single unit as they moved.

The Boyz was a familiar group to you, an old memory from an award show where they had asked BTS for a picture with shy grins and you had nearly cooed at their cuteness. Then again when Kingdom: Legendary War had aired you found yourself tuning in to watch every week.

However, this was the first you’ve seen of the group since then - having been far too busy to keep up with all the groups on the regular, never mind every single song.

You were enjoying the song currently playing, head nodding to the beat as you watched on.

Not even you noticed how you had simply frozen at the next chorus, your attention wholly stolen for a mere couple of seconds.

But it had been enough to change your entire world when the moment was recounted by your team in the future.

“Hi, hello,

My name is what you want it to

숨겨 왔던

욕망들을 whisper.”

Huh.

A sneeze suddenly forced itself out of you as you glared at the culprit, Aera smiling pointedly while holding a makeup brush that she had just tickled under your nostrils.

“What was that for?” You grumbled, the room coming back into your attention.

“My, my Y/N - is that a blush I see?” She teased as you scoffed, eyes flickering to the stage as the song came to an end.

“You’re being ridiculous.” You dismissed her swiftly, ignoring the hum she gave and letting her touch up your already flawless makeup.

You were waiting patiently near the stairs, letting your management team take the last checks for your setup as people rushed around on stage to clean up and get it ready for your performance.

The Boyz were making their way down and were impressively quick to notice you, though you blamed it on your bright white clothes in the darkness. You watched in patient amusement as some of their eyes widened, and even saw a member slapping the one in front of him with a muted gasp.

You offered them a friendly grin as their flustered bodies caught up and everyone started bowing, their waists nearly snapping in half as you took half a step forward.

“Please, take it easy.” You laughed lightly. “I loved your performance. The song is amazing.”

The obvious leader stepped forward, again bending at the waist but spoke with a sure and calm voice. “Thank you, Sunbaenim. It’s an honor.”

The members were quick to follow with various choruses of thank yous, however, some had accepted your words and took it a bit easier with the bowing.

“We love your album, sunbaenim. It’s been on repeat in the dorm since its release.” He continued to lead the conversation, the group of young men creating a half circle around you.

“Oh thank you so much!” There was no hint of any pretense in your tone, you were always immensely grateful when people told you they loved your music.

“You’re the leader, right? What’s your name?”

“Yes, I am. I’m Sangyeon.”

“Ah right!” Your fingers snapped in excitement. “I remember you, of course. From the MMA’s…was it 2018?”

Some of their eyes widened in surprise to know that you remembered them. You relished in it honestly, always loving to prove people wrong about the public’s assumption of how worldwide fame and recognition had made BTS arrogant and seemingly unapproachable.

“Y-yes, that’s correct, thank you for remembering us.”

“I enjoyed watching you on Kingdom.” You admitted, noticing how they were starting to relax around you, smiling more easily and paying attention as if you were the president holding a speech. “You were one of my favorite groups throughout the whole second season.”

Again they started bowing and thanking you, luckily less aggressive than earlier.

“Y/N-sshi, we are ready for you in five minutes. Please make your way to the stage, thank you.” A voice announced through the speakers as The Boyz started to bow again and ushered away as you offered brief goodbyes.

But then you made the mistake of looking up, finding yourself locked in a trance of soft, plump lips, thick eyebrows, puppy dog eyes, and a slim angular face - your throat felt parched as your mouth parted, but no sound came out and you snapped it back shut embarrassed.

Kim Sunwoo noticed the sudden strange behavior, as a single brow rose but he remained polite with a simple tug of his lips and a slight bow.

His dark straight hair was parted in the middle, reminding you of the styles from 90’s boybands. You admired the way his slim t-shirt molded against his lean body with the leather pants and a thick silver chain around his neck. A chain he had pulled seductively while gliding across the floor and stared into the camera.

An image still swimming in your mind.

An appraisal that you were quick to scold yourself over as you felt yourself blushing even hotter, eyes snapping away only hoping he didn’t notice your weird actions.

Only to find yourself stumbling over your own feet in a moment of rare clumsiness.

You managed to save yourself the embarrassment of falling to the ground, but only with Sunwoo’s quick thinking. Who had smoothly stepped close and held out a hovering arm just in case you were to fall, his other gently around your bicep to keep your balance.

Fuck, you were making a whole fool out of yourself.

No one had noticed it, thank goodness. All too busy with their tasks to pay attention to the interaction.

“Are you okay?” Jesus, his voice was deep. “Sunbaenim?” He hastily added, seemingly remembering your status.

“I-I’m okay.” You even stuttered now. Since when did you ever stutter. “Sorry, and thank you.”

“You should watch where you’re going.” He offered a half smile, those lips looking even more ridiculously plump and soft close as you stared up at him. “Careful not to get hurt.”

At this point, you were sure he noticed your flustered state as you cleared your throat and took a small step back out of his grip.

“I should get going.” Was all you managed to say in your embarrassed state, swiftly stepping past him to walk up the stage but not before glancing back and noticing the amused pull of his features as he quietly chuckled to himself and followed his members out.

Aera made her sudden presence known as you flinched at her proximity, only to feel your stomach drop at the near-manic grin on her face.

“Now that, is a crush, my dear.”

You wanted to curl up into a ball and scream your frustrations out from that whole interaction, but could only brace yourself with a smile as you were faced with the crowd who cheered as you came into view.

Dozens of ARMY bombs waving helped settle the worry in your gut just for now.

Nicely done, Y/N. Worldwide icon, indeed huh.

You were still thinking about it as you exited the stage studio.

So caught up in your lingering embarrassment and out-of-character behavior that even surprised yourself.

Over what?! A pretty face? A voice that made your skin tingle just by the rasp of it?

“Fucking get a grip, Y/N…” You muttered, fingers massaging your temples as you returned to your dressing room.

Only to walk straight into your next phase of what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you. Quite literally too.

Sunwoo let out a low ‘Whoa’ as you gasped and stumbled back to fully avoid running him down in your haste to hide yourself away until the nominations live broadcast.

The toilet sign hung above his head as he maneuvered both of you to the side and away from the doors.

“Oh my-” You were practically bumbling fool as your hands moved in silent explanation without many words to follow up, but he understood you well enough with a small, charming grin making his eyes crinkle and nose scrunch up just the slightest.

“Hello, sunbaenim.” He gave a polite nod of his head. “It’s one of those days, huh?”

“Yeah…” You sighed in defeat, hardly trying to keep up that big and mighty senior artist image any longer. “I’m sorry it’s been taken out on you today.”

Sunwoo never lost his smile. “Don’t worry about it. It’s hardly the worst thing that happened to me at music shows.”

You nodded thankfully, very much aware that you were avoiding looking at him directly. Just for your own sanity, if you were being transparent.

“You can stop that, by the way…” My god, were you shy, right now?

“Stop what?”

You cleared your throat. “Calling me sunbaenim all the time. I’m not very fond of the stiff formalities, so you can just relax around me.”

“Ah…” Even though you weren’t looking at him, you could feel his thinking. “Then… would noona be alright?”

Your neck might as well have cracked with how quickly you snapped up to stare at him with widened eyes. Only to meet a knowing smirk gracing his dangerously, pretty face.

“N-noona?” You repeated almost stupidly.

“And here I thought my breath smelled or something. You wouldn’t even look at me.” The smirk widened.

Calming yourself in record time, you were composed enough to retort with a halfhearted glare. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“You are making it very easy.” Kim Sunwoo was a straightforward man, you realized. “I suppose I would be too if caught checking someone out.” Well fuck.

Your first step was denial. “I wasn’t-”

“Don’t feel embarrassed about it. I know I’m good-looking, noona. Just didn’t realize it was to the point of losing gravity.”

If you weren’t quick on catching onto dry humor, you might have thought him deadly serious with how flat he spoke those words. But you were well versed with this sort. Yoongi being a perfect example of it.

The exaggerated push you delivered against his shoulder came from a place of familiarity with your own members, and Sunwoo didn’t seem to mind the casualness of it as his facade broke and he laughed.

Giggling along, you shook your head. “You’re good.”

“I know.”

However, your smile fell at his sudden wince and how swiftly he managed to play it off within a second. But you were a quick study and noticed how subtly he rolled his neck.

“Are you hurting somewhere?” You were blunt in your concern, this time surprising him.

“Ah…” He was considering lying, you knew that. Having done it many times before yourself. But Sunwoo brushed the moment off. “It’s just a bit of muscle stiffness in my neck and shoulders, nothing too serious. Don’t worry about it.”

You scrutinized him for a couple of seconds before accepting it. “If you say so. But I wouldn’t be dancing as hard as you did today with that kind of pain. Be a little mindful at least and ease back.”

Sunwoo was appreciative of your advice, accepting it with a gracious nod and another, quite frankly, heart-palpating smile directed at you. You could probably just stand here and admire him for several minutes in silence if it was offered to you, but you had an image to maintain after all.

An image that fell through the moment Kim Sunwoo was involved.

“Getting lost in my beauty again, are you?” His teasing was never-ending, but instead of annoying you it only managed to pull your smile even wider.

“You are ridiculous.” Was all you managed to say with a chuckle.

He bit into his lower lip thoughtfully before deciding against whatever mental war he was having. “Ridiculous enough to ask for your number?”

There it was again. Your dry throat, and the way your heart probably skipped a beat.

“You…want my number?”

“I mean, who doesn’t want a BTS member’s number.” Sunwoo shrugged, that stupid fitted t-shirt and chain catching your attention again.

So you quirked a brow at him, knowing something else was coming. “And that’s your goal? A BTS member’s number?”

“That would be cool.” He was being awfully truthful until his eyes locked onto your own. “But I would love having the number of a beautiful woman more. Perhaps with a date on the side?”

Your surprise at his bold confession was hardly hidden, mouth parting as you blinked up at him expecting a joke to follow.

This wasn’t exactly the first time you’ve been asked out by someone, but it has always been a bigger or older senior until BTS blew up to the point other idols found it too intimidating to approach anymore. It was a love-hate relationship for you in those circumstances.

Yet Kim Sunwoo managed to cross those unwritten boundaries without fear of outside consequences, his gaze firmly locked on your own without notice of anything going on around you standing by the toilets in a public hallway.

“Are you sure you would want to risk that?” Those words tasted bitter on your tongue when all you wanted to do was say yes.

But you weren’t a fool. Anyone getting involved with BTS would always get a spotlight of any kind shone on them, wanted or not. And you made sure to warn them of it.

Sunwoo was not shaken by it. Only quirking up a brow as if saying so what.

Your heart thumped even harder. So you held out a hand and he wordlessly put his phone in it as the clicking of your manicured nails swiftly typed in your number.

You watched as he typed in whatever name he chose to give you in his contacts and pocketed the device again.

“I’ll be waiting for that date.” You smiled with satisfaction to see the top of his ears turning red, brushing past him.

So you weren’t the only one affected at least.

UNKNOWN: What’s your favorite drink? Y/N: Who is this? UNKNOWN: I’m hurt, noona. Y/N: Ah Hello to you too, Sunwoo You changed Unknown’s name to Sunwoo. SUNWOO: Backtracking to the question. Y/N: I’m a coffee addict SUNWOO: Ofc, the drink of life. Let me guess, iced americano? Y/N: I’m more of a sweet latte girl SUNWOO: A woman after my own heart. Y/N: Alright you little flirt Care to explain? SUNWOO: I’m planning for our date ofc Y/N: Oh? Did I miss the location? SUNWOO: It’s a surprise Y/N: Should I be worried? SUNWOO: Why do you keep doubting me :( Y/N: Acting cute won’t help you SUNWOO: heart emoji Y/N: But fine, better not disappoint me, Kim Sunwoo I got high standards after all ;) SUNWOO: I guess the pressure is on

“Hi.”

“...hey.”

Your soft giggle on the other side of the phone made Sunwoo smile without realizing it.

“Why are you breathless?”

“Ah…” He kicked away a stray pair of pants on the floor before sitting down on his bed, making sure the door was closed. “I ran to my room when you called. We just got back from the schedules.”

“You could have just called me back.” There was rustling on your end, and looking at the time he assumed you were just getting into bed.

“I didn’t wanna leave you hanging.”

“Hm, what a gentleman.”

“For you? Always.”

You giggled again. A sound Sunwoo was certain he was becoming obsessed with hearing.

“I tried seeing you today.”

“Yeah.” He lowered his voice just in case any of his members were to hear him. “Me too. It was quite hectic today, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I know how it gets.”

“What did you do today?”

“Besides the music show? Just some interviews and a radio recording. I’m keeping my promotions at the bare minimum this time around.”

Stretching out on the bed, he couldn’t help but tease you. “Of course, the power of BTS.”

“Oh shush you.”

A silence settled between you. But it was a comfortable one, strangely enough. No awkward shuffling of clothes to have something to do, or the tense waiting for the other to speak.

“I like this.” His voice was grating with how low he was trying to keep it.

“...Like what?”

“This. Just talking to you, noona.”

Sunwoo could hear the smile in your voice. “I like this too. Very much so.”

It was hard to say how many hours the two of you spoke every night since that fateful day, but there were certainly no complaints on either end.

“This is fucking ridiculous.” Roughly peeling off the cropped denim jacket, you would feel guilty about how you threw it in the corner later. Aera would understand, hopefully.

The stupid conflict between HYBE and MBC was no industry secret. But you managed to convince your company to give them another chance by letting you promote there this time after several years of avoiding the place.

And did you regret it.

“Do they think they can take me for a fucking idiot because I’m solo?” You seethed, whirling to stare at Yoo-Mi. She had a displeased expression as well, already tapping on her phone furiously as mutters of annoyance spread through the rest of your management team.

You had been on a tense tirade the entire morning with the MBC production team and director about how you wanted your performance to be captured. They were obviously not used to how much creative freedom you were usually privy to and fought you the entire way, with passive-aggressive suggestions going against what you wanted.

They only kept messing up, from your mic glitching on stage to the sound being off in your in-ear despite your several attempts to fix it during rehearsals. So the final product ended up being a complete mess in your own opinion, finding faults in every single frame in the live broadcast, your voice not being clear enough, and backtracking far too loud to convince viewers you were singing live despite having more than enough proof throughout the ten years.

The haters would have a field day with that.

“-a complete mess today, I’m telling you!” Your manager’s voice was going on in the background.

“I can’t do this right now.” With a pointed look a Yoo-Mi, she nodded in understanding as you walked out of the dressing room towards wherever there were fewer people.

You found a random hallway, fairly empty with an empty cushioned bench away from the main area of dressing rooms. Slumping down with your back resting against the cold wall, you closed your eyes with a tired groan.

It was moments like these where you craved the support of your members. If this were Namjoon, he would not have relented in getting this perfect, Yoongi and Hobi right by his sides with their penetrating gazes to make sure. Jimin and Tae would be by you in their comfort, whereas Jin and JK would make extra sure that things weren’t spiraling out of control by being the compromisers in the middle.

You weren’t a pushover, far from it. But you weren’t one for confrontations unless absolutely necessary. Today could have gone several ways with much better results if not for the underlying conflict between business companies.

You don’t know if you dozed off or were simply in your own world. But the sudden cold, damp surface of something on your forehead made you flinch up as your eyes connected with the concerned ones of Sunwoo.

He held an iced coffee in hand, the same one he was pressing against your skin as you allowed yourself to relax.

“Are you okay?”

Standing up, you instead ignored the question and wrapped your smaller hand around his own still holding on to the cup. “Is this for me?”

He nodded, lips peeling back into a small smile as you accepted it. “A caramel macchiato latte, extra espresso shot.”

You had only mentioned your preferred drink once, but he had it memorized already.

“Thank you.”

Leaning with a shoulder against the wall, hand in a pocket - the concerned glint in his eyes never went away. Wearing a similar fit to the one when you first met him, Sunwoo was still as handsome as ever. Instead of a t-shirt, he wore a fitting turtleneck, a cropped blazer that made him seem even broader, and those damn leather pants with silver accessories adorned his hands, ears, and neck.

His slightly bronzer skin compared to others seemed to glow. A feature of him you would never be sick of admiring.

“Are you going to keep staring at me in silence?” Your lips quirked up before taking a sip from the drink, the taste of it getting your mood up.

“Not if you say what’s bothering you.”

“What makes you think there is?”

Sunwoo snorts. “I walked passed you earlier and you didn’t even notice.”

Glancing at the coffee in your hand. “And you went to get me coffee?”

“I thought you needed something to cheer you up.”

So you gave in. “Just creative differences with the director here. My manager is taking care of it.”

Sunwoo hummed in understanding. “But are you okay?”

His brows were furrowed, those lips you could never ignore pulled into the slightest pout. Swallowing your nerves you stepped even closer. Sunwoo straightened up at the proximity but not moving away. He waited for you.

“Can I hug you?” Your whisper practically melted him as everything about him softened.

“Of course.”

Without hesitation, you put the cup down on the bench before snaking your arms around his slim waist, face tucked into the hollow of his neck and shoulder, and breathed him in.

The aroma of ground coffee beans and subtle vanilla, all wrapped up in notes of sweet fruits and blended spices of sandalwood and sage; a scent you would forever associate with him from this moment.

Sunwoo’s arms wrapped around you, hand gently stroking your back as you relished in the comfort he was providing. A feeling you had missed immensely.

You were falling, and there was nothing to stop you from being completely consumed by the orbit that was Kim Sunwoo.

Sunwoo was mesmerized.

Quite frankly frozen to his spot in the dressing room, standing in the middle of the room, drink forgotten in hand as he stared at the screen where you were currently one of the last performers.

Fair enough, he wasn’t exactly old, still young at the age of twenty-three, and being one of the youngest in his group he was often reminded of it. But he wasn’t ignorant. Especially not enough to ignore the fact he had fallen easily and quickly down the rabbit hole that was Y/N of BTS.

Where everyone else saw the star quality encasing your every being, he managed to see past it. Your shyness that you often hid behind the pretense of a bold personality when faced with strangers. Sunwoo could see how you were struggling to be by yourself on stages where you used to be with seven others and had quite quickly used his presence as a comfort to chase your struggles away.

And he had happily complied. It started with texting until he crossed that line by calling you one evening after a scheduled music show where neither had managed to talk, but craved to.

After several of nights of calling each other, you surprised him one evening by turning on Facetime, sending his heart stuttering at the beautiful sight of you all barefaced in cozy pajamas under dim lighting as you settled yourself on a couch.

Yet you still hadn’t found time to meet properly. The end-of-year season was always hectic with the amount of promotions and award shows that went on, especially for his group. Making that long-awaited date having to be put on pause.

Sunwoo didn’t even expect you to attend after that fiasco of a recording earlier in the month until he woke up to a text this morning from you letting him know, with an unwritten hope to find some time to meet.

“Sunwoo’s in love.” A jest from one of his members snapped him out of the stupor as he simply rolled his eyes with a smirk, playing off the words even though they made him sweat.

If only his members knew the truth.

“She’s amazing.” Another compliment followed by several others as his members fell into a light discussion about you and your well-known ability to control a stage and make people pay attention by a single note of your voice. All that without the help of your members.

Sunwoo felt like the clock was dragging by - his energy and hope diminishing with each minute while pretending he was okay around everyone. The award show was nearing its end, with you closing it before all performers would meet for the closing stage.

He must have been one of the first members out the door when the call to gather was announced. His casual eagerness was enough to catch the curious attention of a few members, but he did the best he could to act his normal self.

The stage was packed with the dozens of groups and performances that had joined for the event. Sunwoo made sure to stay close to his group, but he also couldn’t help the way his eyes kept searching for someone in particular. He had caught glimpses of you walking around the stage waving at fans, but also greeting artists who were eager to say hi.

You were keeping close to your labelmates, TXT, laughing and smiling with them openly with an arm looped around Yeonjun’s like an older sister. Sunwoo would be lying if he didn’t feel jealous seeing you act so openly affectionate with them, but he reined in the green monster quickly.

He barely managed to reign in his shock when squished amid the crowd as everyone tried to leave the stage and a familiar hand wrapped itself around his own with a quick squeeze before letting go again. Sunwoo saw your back as you walked away in front of him, still beside TXT.

You never gave any indication it had happened besides the barest of glances over your shoulder.

The next time Sunwoo managed to see you was by being dragged quite forcefully into a cleaning supply closet as the door closed behind him with a thump and lock turning.

He huffed out a laugh as you stood before him, a guilty grin painted on your lips.

“Was that a bit too rough?”

“It was perfect.” Sunwoo continued to chuckle and finally took you in.

The two of you were matching in black, his an assemble of leather and silver accents, whereas you were all sparkling sheer fabric with thigh-high stilettos and matching mini skirt. Jesus fuck.

His throat bobbed as his male mind caught up to what was happening: standing in a small-sized closet in dim lighting, with you only inches away from him dressed like actual sin.

“Do you think they’ll notice?” You asked worried, gnawing on your lower lip. His gaze zeroed on the action.

“My members definitely have, but they’ll think I probably ran off to the bathroom.”

“We won’t have long then.” The downturned vision of glossy lips made him lick his own, in anticipation or nerves, Sunwoo wasn’t sure.

He could hear and feel everything now. The sound of your breaths, the rising of your chest, and the heat of your skin only a fingertip away from his touch. You must have caught on to the same desire because you finally looked at him - as in thoroughly looking, doing an appraisal of him from head to toe with a sly tilt to your head, eyes lingering on the cropped fabric of his shirt - lips pulling up into a smile.

Someone was clearly not feeling shy anymore. He didn’t know if it was a good thing for him.

“-can I kiss you, noona?” Sunwoo cut off any words you wanted to say. And you didn’t seem all that surprised. “I need to kiss you. actually.”

“Need to, huh?” You were clearly very amused by his words. “Then who am I to stop you?”

Oh yeah. Definitely a dangerous turn for his sanity.

“You’re such a tease.” Sunwoo couldn’t help but mutter as he hauled you against him firmly, cutting off your giggle with his lips which turned into a pleased sigh.

Your arms reached up to wrap around his neck, pressed up against each other down to your hips as you raked your nails through his scalp causing a shudder and a groan to leave him.

Sunwoo kissed you enthusiastically but slowly, seemingly on a mission to memorize every single crevice in your mouth, those plumb lips feeling even softer on your own. He turned your bodies around, never separating from your mouth when he suddenly bent only to pick you up.

You squeaked in surprise, pulling back momentarily only to be pushed even firmer against the door, your legs spreading to accommodate him between your thighs, your skirt scrunching up.

That all melted away as you let out a soft moan as Sunwoo finally sucked on your tongue, humming against you with a smirk tugging in the corner of his mouth. He moved away, to the corner of your lips, behind your ear, and down to your neck - wet kisses and his tongue making you pant as your thighs squeezed around his hips.

Your fingers that were already in his hair tightened their grip even further, holding him against you where he was kissing your neck with a breathless whine and Sunwoo only chuckled at your reaction.

Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to pick you up just like that. But no part of you was certainly complaining by the turn of events.

He was more than ready to go further, you noticed. And to be fair, so were you. So strung up with your nerves desperate to find release in any kind that you could have fucked him right in this closet. If it weren’t for the time and place.

Manvouring Sunwoo’s face back up, you only got a glimpse of his flushed appearance, lidded eyes, and swollen lips before you kissed him again. This time much slower, trying your damn best to calm both of you down.

Your feet found the ground again, Sunwoo leaning in over you with both hands cupping the back of your neck almost too gently, but a hold that you couldn’t help but rest into.

It was a struggle to separate, he found out. Pulling back but always needing to dip back in for another kiss or peck. He did it so many times that you ended up laughing.

“Fuck, I can’t seem to let you go,” Sunwoo murmured, thumb caressing your cheek softly as your eyes sparkled up at him.

“It’s not the last time.” You assured him, leaning in to press your lips against his neck for a little teasing touch as you smirked in satisfaction feeling him shudder before nuzzling close.

“I know…” He sighed heavily, obviously not wanting to leave, but the clock was ticking. And the more time they spent lost in each other’s arms would make everyone else around them more suspicious.

So with a heavy heart and frankly, half a boner - Sunwoo pushed himself away so you could open the door. He took the lead, peeling it open slowly and looking both ways to see it was surprisingly sparse with only a couple of staff on the other end.

You held onto his hand from behind him, sneaking out slowly as the door clicked shut. From there both of you rushed to where your dressing rooms were - you only being a few doors down from him.

Just as the sign of The Boyz were in view, Yoo-Mi, your manager came out of your door and freezing both to the spot.

Sunwoo cursed, body tensing beside you, but he was assured quickly to see the almost entertained smirk on the older woman’s face as she waltzed in their direction.

“Unnie.” You greeted her sheepishly, never letting go of his hand. You actually moved closer as Sunwoo bowed in greeting.

“Not a crush, huh?” That was all Yoo-Mi said before shaking her head and moving on. “I’m going toilet, be quick, we’re leaving soon.”

Then they were alone again. Slowly glancing at each other, Sunwoo bit down on his lip before snorting out a laugh with you following with a low laugh.

“That went well.” He grinned.

“We really have to go now,” You gave a pointed look at their intertwined hands.

“Yeah…” His grin didn’t fall as his large hands gently gripped your hips and pulled you closer. You hardly had the power to resist him. “Goodbye kiss?”

“You will be the death of me, Kim Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo leaned down with a mischievous tilt to his mouth, lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “But you would love that, noona.”

Leaning up you sealed the kiss softly, hands resting on his chest only to flinch apart the very next second.

“Yah Kim Sunw-!”

Q or Changmin stood in the open doorway with his mouth dropped open, only for the two of them to realize they had placed themselves directly in front of The Boyz’ dressing room.

Giving a complete view of both of them to everyone inside as heavy silence fell.

Well. There went the secrecy.

“What…the hell?”

Simultaneously taking in the jaw-dropped expressions of his members. You and Sunwoo couldn’t hold back your nearly manic cackles as you fell into him for support.

“Am I dreaming?” Someone wondered out loud in English.

If this was a dream, then you would never want to wake up.

Thank you for reading!

masterlist

#bangtanfanfiction #kpop imagines #bts au #bts 8th member #the boyz #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz imagines #kim sunwoo x reader #tbz sunwoo imagine #tbz idol au #kim sunwoo #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo imagines

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femmefatalevibe · 11 months

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Femme Fatale Guide: Products & Services Worth The Save (or Saving On)

Fashion:

Socks (I love the HUE ones that come out to around $3 per pair)

Tights (another vote for HUE – around $10-13 dollars a pair and should last at least a season or two with proper care)

Layering tanks & tees

Underwear (buy them on a bulk deal – I love Skims' 3/$36 [on the pricier end here] – or getting luxury items on sale, especially pair from Natori or Hanky Panky [usually come up to around $10-$15 a pair]; Parade also has $6 underwear that's great quality for the price)

Trendy items

Costume jewelry (Mejuri, Aurate, and Justine Clenquet are great for the price; Catbird is the best in the game for a moderate-priced alternative to luxury jewelry in my opinion)

Beauty:

Cleanser

Facial Toner

Makeup Wipes

Acne Spot Treatment

Mascara

Brow Gel

Setting Powder/Spray

Shampoo & Conditioner

Body Wash

Body Scrubs

Hand/Body Lotion

Hand Soap

Vaseline (use it as a lip treatment, cuticles, dry skin patches, or as a hydrating eye cream)

Lip Balm (Palmers SPF 15 is my HG)

Makeup Sponges/Spoolies

Hair Ties

Home:

Lighting

Home Decor

Artwork (I have mostly Black & White photography from iCanvas and get so many compliments on them!)

Coffee Maker (a Black & Decker coffee maker or a French Press is all most people need)

Everyday Dishes & Glassware (I love Sweese, Smilatte, and Luigi Bormioli on Amazon)

Dishwasher-Safe Reusable Food Storage Bags/Snack Bags

Produce Saving Containers

Health & Wellness:

Deva Vitamins/Supplements

Fitness Youtube Workouts

Bulk-buying Oats, Beans, and Other Staple Foods

Frozen Fruits & Vegetables (when not in season, especially)

Listening to Podcasts via Youtube

TED Talks

Services:

Facials

Blowout

Dermaplaning

Teeth-Whitening

Mani-Pedi

Professional/Social:

Owning your full name social handles across platforms

Simple Investment Planning (Roth IRA, HSA, 401K - anything involving index funds)

Get a great headshot (many colleges and universities offer their students/alumni headshots for free)

Cash-back & Travel-miles $0 Fee Credit Cards

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mitsuyeaah · 1 year

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late nights, heavy weights.

— rindou haitani

cw: gym bro!rindou, fluff, shy reader, rindou being a supportive & flirty gym bro, gym jargon. spotting: when a person assists the weightlifter to make sure they do the exercise in a safe manner without any injuries. <3

a/n: i was at the gym earlier and i got this idea. have not written for mr rindou haitani in a while sooo here he is!

it was one o’clock in the morning, the cool air of the early morning engulfed your body as you made your way to the entrance of the gym—the door beeping as you placed your key tag against the reader. walking in, you were met with the quiet gym music playing in the background. the gym was mostly empty; no staff in sight, and maybe one or two people working out and minding their business.

you liked working out around this time to avoid the after work rush hour, plus, you could go on at your own pace with no one waiting on you to use the equipment next. after stretching your body, you headed to the open squat rack, ready to hit legs for today.

your workout was going well so far, you were able to steadily squat heavier weights while maintaining a good form and a straight bar path. you wanted to opt for a lifting belt after placing another plate on the barbell but noticed that you must’ve forgotten it back at home. mentally cursing yourself, you looked around around the almost empty gym to see if anyone had a spare belt you could borrow.

one woman was on the treadmill—no luck with that—while a man was on a weightlifting platform, doing deadlifts. his two toned hair was tied in a low ponytail, hues of blonde and baby blue securely wrapped in a hair tie. the man sported a black muscle tee and shorts but what caught your eye was his unused lifting belt on the floor next to his belongings.

mustering up the courage, you waltzed your way over to the man and gently tapped his exposed arm. damn, he had muscles. he turned around and took an earbud out, “yeah?” his chest heaved up and down from the exercise he was doing, sweat dripping down his temples while stray hair stuck to his skin. you smiled at him, “um, if you don’t mind.. can i borrow your belt for a sec? i’m just on my last set of squats and i forgot mine at home.”

the man nodded, making a gesture to you that it was okay to use his belt. you quickly thanked him but before you decided to head back to the squat rack, he introduced himself as rindou, and you introduced yourself as well. warmth bloomed in your chest at a possible new found friend at the gym.

it was pretty hard to make friends at the gym since everyone was caught up in their own little world, you didn’t really mind it but you just wished you had some friends at the gym.

“oh, uh, i know this is probably asking for a lot.. but would you be okay spotting me? i totally get it if you’re busy!” you asked rindou, suddenly feeling embarrassed at the sudden question.

but, your embarrassment quickly faded away as he nodded, saying that he just finished his last set of deadlifts and could spare you a little time.

securely wrapping the belt around your waist, you positioned yourself against the bar, taking a deep inhale. “i’m going to place my hands here, okay?” rindou came close behind you, his muscled chest near your back. he was polite. usually when other people spotted you for squats, they wouldn’t even ask you if you were okay with their hands being so close to your chest.

you nodded, making eye contact with him through the mirror. rindou’s hands made its way just underneath your chest where your ribs ended. you felt warmth creeping up your cheeks and to your ears while he did that, internally panicking that someone as handsome as him was kind enough to spot you.

“ready when you are.” you felt his hot breath fan over your nape but you shrugged it away and nodded at him through the mirror again.

lifting the bar off the rack, rindou’s hands gripped your torso tighter to steady you from the weight of the bar and the plates. you sucked in a deep breath before lowering yourself into a squat and powering up into a standing position. rindou moved with you, squatting down as well to assist the whole motion of the exercise—throughout the whole set, he showered you with encouragement and praises which helped get you through the exercise.

“alright, last one. up!” you braced yourself for the final lift, feeling his hands tighten around you, trying to lift you back up.

after successfully executing the whole set, rindou casually reached his arm around to your front to snap the lifting belt off so you could breathe properly. the act surprised you but it also made your stomach practically do somersaults.

“wow, you did so good! feels like you didn’t even need me there. you did it like a champ!” you shied away from his constant praises, shaking your head and waving your hands to deny it.

“no, no! you definitely helped a lot, rindou. thank you kindly spotting me.. and for that belt release.” you bit your lip after saying the last few words. you swore your heart raced faster but you blamed it on the pre-workout, no way the man you just met was already making you melt. rindou raised a brow, the corner of his lip tugging up, “yeah? i can gladly do it again for you after your sets. just ask me.”

your jaw almost dropped at that. you felt your knees almost buckle at his response, not expecting the man to be so casual and brazen about it. rindou blamed it on his pre-workout for being this bold; he usually wouldn’t even go as far as to make conversation but with you, it just came out naturally.

“i mean.. as long as you don’t mind, i guess.” you let out a small chuckle, trying to hide the fact that you were absolutely losing your mind. rindou was definitely trying to woo you and you had no complaints about it whatsoever.

rindou mirrored your chuckle, “i’m very glad we’re on the same page here. it looks like there is something else to look forward to when i go to the gym, huh.”

you blinked at him, not knowing how to respond at his advances. rindou thought you were cute trying to wrack your brain for a response, the way your lips parted but no words came out.

“..i-i guess so.. um, thank you for letting me use your belt!” you awkwardly removed the lifting belt from around your waist and handed it over to him. he chuckled at your awkwardness but nonetheless, taking his belt back.

“guess i’ll see you around then? call me over if you need anymore help with any of your exercises.. or other things, doesn’t have to be gym related.” you smiled at him, shyly rubbing your nape. “i definitely will.. for both of those reasons.”

the two of you exchanged a few more words before going to your respective workout stations. a wide smile plastered on both your’s and rindou’s faces as you two resumed your workouts.

you had one more reason as to why you loved working out very early in the morning—it started with the letter ‘r’ and hopefully ended in something much more.

#rindou haitani #rindou fluff #rindou drabble #rindou x y/n #rindou x reader #rindou x you #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers drabble #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers #tokrev x reader #tokrev x you #tokrev x y/n

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withsara-ab · 4 months

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Move it or Lose it! Stiff Body? Unstuck Yourself with Movement!

Stuck in stiff-ville? Don't wait! Move your body to feel better, like I did with my tight shoulders. Consistent movement (think stretches, foam rolling, even yoga!) works wonders.

Find Relief Now! Explore Withsara's Classes Today: https://www.withsara.co/the-classes

#best home workouts for women #hiit classes #fitness programs & classes #barre workouts #online women's fitness platform #home workout platform #withsara workout #women's fitness guide #workout program #yoga classes #Stretch Classes

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chaos-in-deepspace · 2 days

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LNDS Xavier: Pinned Up (18+)

This fic is an amalgamation of like three different inspirational outlets, okay. I didn't want to write this. I was forced to. First freaking @nati-cutie-patootie was like "Hey, this song is so Xavier, right?", then the Xavier brainrot began. Then I woke up and saw THIS POST by @ellereath and was like "Well I'm a writer and I was already planning on doing something for Xavier so why not?" but then I saw THE IMAGE that they linked to and anyway there is no space in heaven for me because I am an irredeemable whore who can only sin...so anyway enjoy the smut!

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Smut, Penis in Vagina Sex, Reader implied having breasts, Gender Neutral Terms but AFAB anatomy, Wall Sex, Oral (Receiving), Multiple Orgasms, Creampie, Unsafe Sex, Squirting Synopsis: You couldn't help but stare at your boyfriend, whether it was when you two worked out or just at home. How someone so sweet and soft looking could be so strong was a mystery to you, but you certainly wouldn't complain when he lifts you up and pins you to a wall with ease. Word Count: 4.8k

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Pinned Up (18+) Xavier x Reader

You sighed, wiping your brow with the towel you had wrapped around your neck. The cool breeze cooled off your overheated skin as you turned to Xavier. He looked to be perfectly fine as he also wiped down his own brow.

You both had only done a light workout, one of those that you don’t sweat too much during it, but it takes forever for your body to cool down afterwards. It didn’t help that you two had to walk a mile to the apartments since the gym at your complex was closed down for maintenance.

“How you feelin?” You asked, breaking the silence between the two of you. Xavier, who had been focused on just making it home, turned to you with a soft smile.

“I’m a bit tired, but it’s not too bad.” He admitted and you couldn’t help but chuckle. When wasn’t this man tired, after all? It was one of those things you had found particularly endearing, especially because you knew if you ever wanted to take a nap, he wouldn’t judge you and join you in the activity.

You finally arrived at the complex, both of you groggily getting into the elevator. Xavier put in his floor number and you smiled, knowing it was a subtle invitation for you to join him. After a few minutes the door finally opened to his floor and you both got out. You trailed after Xavier as he unlocked the door, opening it and letting you go inside first.

You knew his apartment like it was your own with how often you came over. After taking off your shoes you walked over to the kitchen, standing on your toes to reach one of the higher shelves to grab the cups. You filled it with ice cold water and you silently sat on the bar stool; you slid Xavier a glass of water while you sipped on your own.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you enjoyed the refreshing drink gliding down your throat. That was until you turned over to Xavier. He had made it into the kitchen and grabbed the water you had prepared for him.

He greedily drank from the cup, finishing it almost in one go. You watched his throat bob as he swallowed, and how some of the water crept down the side of his mouth and dripped down onto his chest. He was still covered in a subtle sheen of sweat that you wanted to lick off of him.

Xavier stopped as he finished his glass, noticing your stare and he shot you an almost knowing smile. He always seemed so innocent that you sometimes forgot that he was a wolf in a bunny disguise. The things he’s not only done to you, but has said to you were now clouding your mind as you bit your lip and tried focusing on something else.

“Something on your mind?” Xavier said, using his arm to wipe away the bit of water that had escaped.

You cleared your throat, avoiding eye contact with the man, “Ya, I’m totally fine.” You took another sip of the water and tried getting your head out of the gutter. Your muscles were already protesting, it was best to not poke at the beast and have him fold you like a pretzel.

Xavier walked over to where you were, placing his cup in the sink. He made sure to subtly graze your arm as he did so, looking over to gauge your reaction.

You couldn’t help the involuntary shiver running down your spine. You swore his libido was rubbing off on you somehow. He managed to always rile you up way too easily and you were in a constant state of wanting him to be buried in you.

You tried distracting yourself, knowing that Xavier always had an assortment of snacks at the ready since he was so used to you being here (not to mention the man could eat). You stood up, looking around the pantry. Xavier’s gaze followed your form the entire time, his eyes half lidded as he gave a lazy smile at seeing how comfortable you were at his place.

It wasn’t hard to find something appealing in his pantry since he always kept your tastes in mind. A box of chocolate pocky sticks stood out and you happily took them; you opened the box and placed one of the sticks in your mouth with a satisfied hum.

As you walked back over to Xavier you couldn’t help but think of that one incident on the bus when you two went on vacation. The way he had subtly kissed you in public when you two hadn’t even started dating yet had made your heart flutter. It was around that time you had sworn you’d confess your feelings, because being with him like that had been torture. You had wanted to drag him into another kiss that day…but that was all in the past as you stared over at your cute boyfriend.

Xavier noticed the snack in your hand, taking one of the sticks and started to nibble on it. You seemed to have cooled off as you looked over at Xavier again, the content look on his face as he enjoyed the sweet treat.

“Since you’re here, would you like to borrow the shower?” He asked, glancing over at you once he noticed you staring at him again.

“Yes please…do I still have a change of clothes here?” You asked, taking another pocky stick in your mouth as you leaned over the counter.

“I think so, but if not you can just borrow some of my clothes.” He said with a shrug and you smiled.

“Sounds good to me.” You paused for a moment, “I’ll shower after I rest a bit though. I don’t want to make the commitment yet.” Even if the thought of a shower was tempting, you knew if you hopped in like this, you might not want to get out.

“We could always watch a movie together.” Xavier commented and you shook your head.

“No way, we’re all sweaty and stinky from working out, I don’t want to rub it off on the couch.” You said and Xavier stared at you with the most confused look in the world.

“But we’ve sweat on the couch before…?” You almost choked on your pocky at his blunt response. You slowly looked at him and then huffed a bit. He then walked over to where you were relaxing on the counter. He leaned his body over you, pressing his nose against your neck and smelling, “And you certainly don’t stink right now.”

You let out a small squeak as you leaned away from him, “Hey, hey, hey!” You said, pushing his face away from you as he chuckled, “You can’t do that to me right after I work out!” You whined, but couldn’t help the chuckle coming from you as well.

“I’m telling you, we both stink from sweating.” You claimed then stopped at your sudden realization. He had been really close to you a moment before and you didn’t notice any smell from him. There was no way…you turned around, grabbing his wrist and pulling him closer to you as you did exactly what he had done moments ago. Your nose pressed against his neck as you sniffed.

He had the slightest musky smell, but overall he smelled like fresh spring water, linen, and a hint of birch. Just like he always did, the scent calming you like a pavlovian response as you blinked.

“Oh this is unfair…” You grumbled, “You still smell like you’re fresh out of the shower.” You complained and Xavier chuckled, placing his hand against your hip.

“And I’m telling you that you smell fine, so let’s go relax on the couch.” Xavier said, tugging at your tank top as he tried getting you to come with him. You knew the moment you two were on the couch he was probably going to pass right out.

You hum as though thinking over your decisions before smiling, “Nope!” You said, popping the ‘p’. You grab another pocky stick and put it in your mouth then place the box down. Perhaps you should just take a quick shower and then cuddle with him on the couch; that seemed like the best compromise.

You start walking off, but Xavier’s grip on your hip tightened as he spun your body around until you were chest to chest with him. He leaned in, grabbing the end of your pocky stick and nibbling on it until your lips met in a sweet and short kiss.

You couldn’t help the small smile spreading across your face as he pressed against your lips again in a series of soft kisses. Xavier brought a hand up to adjust the angle of your face to where he wanted it, intent on enjoying this moment to the fullest.

You lean back, but Xavier was quick to pull you closer and finally pressed his lips back to yours with a purpose. His lips molded with yours perfectly and you could feel him nibbling on your lower lip, his warm hand going under your shirt to caress the skin there.

You open your mouth for him, tasting the sweet pocky that lingered there as he tilted your head. Your hands grasped at his shirt, dragging him into you as he grabbed you until your pelvis was pressed against his. You groaned into his mouth, loving how just his kisses could get your entire body feeling light.

When Xavier finally parts from your lips he can’t help but press his forehead against yours, painting slightly, “Maybe we should save that shower for later?” He said, implying what was to come.

You chuckle and lean up, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “Is this why you wanted to drag me to the couch?” You asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes. His brilliant blue eyes sparkled with mischief and the smirk he wore sent a shiver down your spine.

“It hadn’t been the initial intention.” He said, going to place a kiss on your cheek, moving down your jaw and then your neck, “But I started to think about how you were looking at me earlier and figured you wouldn’t mind.” He said, nipping at your exposed neck. You let out a small gasp, your hands grasping the fabric of his shirt.

“Oh, so you noticed that?” You chuckled as his hands played with the band of your shorts. He was leaving wet kisses along the column of your neck and right behind your ear, and once again you felt a small nibble but this time it was on your ear.

“How could I not? First at the gym, and then when I was drinking water. It’s pretty obvious what was going through that pretty head of yours.” He said, nuzzling his face into you. You chuckled, “Now can I please take these off?”

One of your hands went over to his shoulder, while the other began threading through his hair, “Go right ahead.” You said, giving him the permission he was waiting for. He wasted no time, pulling your tight shorts and underwear off, letting them pool around your ankles. You stepped out of them, kicking the articles of clothing to some random corner of the apartment.

Xaviers fingers slowly pressed against your slick folds, feeling how wet you had gotten just from kissing him. You groaned, feeling one of his fingers easily slipping into your heat without an ounce of resistance.

“All this from just watching me?” Xavier murmured, adding another finger and curling them. You gasped, feeling him hitting your sweet spot. Xavier knew how to play your body so easily that he could make you cum within minutes of toying with your body.

“Only for you, Xav.” You whispered, spreading your legs a bit to give him a better angle. Xavier groaned at your words, using his free hand to cup your face and dragging you in for another heated kiss. His tongue played against your own and you whimpered, feeling his fingers were intent on making you cum all over them.

“Fuck…” Xavier can’t help but groan, his fingers leaving you for a moment. You let out a whimper at the loss of something inside you. His hands wrapped around your thighs as he hoisted you up. Your legs immediately went to hook around his torso. Your pelvis pressed right against his and you groaned at feeling his cock straining in his pants.

It was effortless on his part as he casually walked over to a wall, pressing your back against it and rutting his hips up into yours. You gasped at feeling how he ground into you, your walls clenching around nothing and you were tugging at his shirt, “Xav…” You whined his name out and he chuckled.

“I know, my star, but I need to do something first.” Xavier said as he seemed to struggle for a moment to stop grinding against you. You just felt so good against him even with a layer of fabric blocking him from you. Your cunt soaked into the fabric of his pants and he could feel every twitch of your pussy through them.

You let out a startled gasp as he managed to hoist you up higher, adjusting your legs until your legs were hooked around his shoulders, his hands firmly holding you up by your ass. He gave the flesh a teasing squeeze as he looked up at you.

He began peppering kisses along your thighs, enjoying how your thighs tensed for a moment under every small touch on his lips, “Xav, what are you planning?” It was damn obvious what he wanted, but you couldn’t help but flush at the thought.

“I just want a small taste.” Xavier said, his lips slowly trailing closer to your folds. You groaned, pushing his head away from you with a blush coating your cheeks and neck.

“N-not without a shower first, geez.” You said, but Xavier was on a mission. He looked up at you, utilizing his puppy eyes and making you groan in annoyance. You tried not looking at him, but he gave your ass another firm squeeze and your eyes snapped down.

You swore those sapphire eyes should be illegal. Just that look was enough to get you to fold every time…sometimes literally. You looked away again with a small pout before admitting defeat.

“F-fine…but I warned you…” You murmured, feeling positively embarrassed at your current position. However, that was all Xavier needed to hear as his tongue left his pink lips, slowly licking up your sopping cunt.

You let out a groan, your hand threading into his hair and tugging a bit as his tongue began working its magic on you. He really did know how to unravel you as his tongue went into your tight heat, curling up. His nose brushed up against your clit as he enthusiastically ate you out. The obscene wet noises made you close your eyes and bite your lip.

His mouth went to suck on your clit, making you moan loudly and your grip on his hair tightened. You could feel him groaning against you as your hips rolled into his face. He grabbed your ass, giving it a tight squeeze as he dragged you in impossibly closer, loving how you began grinding in earnest on his face.

Your thighs began shaking and you knew you were close with that familiar coiling in your stomach, “F-fuck Xa-Xavier!” You managed to squeak out, “C-close.” You said, before the tension inside of you snapped.

Your thighs clamping down on his head as you rode his face, loving how his tongue fucked you through the entire thing. He couldn’t help but watch you the entire time, your facial expression as you used his face for your own pleasure made his cock twitch.

After you rode it out, his tongue just made lazy circles around your clit until you were flinching away and relaxing your thighs so his head was no longer in a vice grip. You were panting as you stared down at him.

Xavier parted from your folds, your release dripping down from his chin as he licked his lips and smirked at you, “Thanks for the meal.” He said, pressing another kiss against your thigh. You flushed, looking away and covering your mouth with your hand. He chuckled at the bashful look you had as he readjusted you again.

It was too easy for him to lift you off his shoulders and place you back against the wall with your legs securely around his torso. He began leaving kisses along your face, rolling his hips back up against you. Despite having just comed, you groaned and rolled in time with him.

Your hand trailed between your bodies, pushing down his pants until his cock was free. The head was a bright red with precum dribbling from the tip freely. You used it to help lube up your grasp, giving him a few strokes and making his groan as he rolled in time with your hand.

You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the thought of having his length down your throat. While he didn’t taste like candy, he had this certain, subtle taste that you could only describe as Xavier. You craved it and Xavier easily caught how your pink tongue darted out of your mouth as you looked down at his cock.

He leaned against you, his mouth against your ear, “You can suck it some other time, my star, for now I need to be inside you.” He said, making you shiver from the proximity.

You let out a small whine of disappointment as he shifted you. You grasped his cock and lined it up with your pussy, groaning as he rutted his hips against your slick folds and bumping against your sensitive clit.

“Wouldn’t this be easier if we were on a couch?” You asked, worried about his arms. You knew he was strong, hell him casually lifting you up and down was testament to that, but you didn’t want him to tire out.

“Aren’t you the one who claimed we were too ‘stinky’ to lay on the couch?” He teased, pressing a kiss behind your ear, “Besides, our workout today was too light. I didn’t work on my arms at all.”

You chuckled despite feeling his blunt cock head pressing into your opening. Your chuckled slowly turned into a drawn out moan as he slipped inch by inch into your core. You could feel every bit of him, the one vein on the underside of his cock grazing against your walls and driving you insane.

He was guiding your hips onto him until you were finally settled fully on his cock, your pelvis flush against his own. He gave you a moment to adjust to his girth, taking his time to mark up your neck properly while you gripped at his shirt.

“Starlight?” Xavier murmured after a moment. You hummed in response, feeling how his cock twitched in response to just your voice, “Take your shirt off for me, please.” He said and you nodded.

He lifted his head, watching as your hands went under the edge of your tank top as you slowly took it off. You tossed it across the room before doing the same with your sports bra. The moment your chest was free, Xavier’s cock strained inside of you again. You groaned, rolling your hips on him and he bit back a groan of his own.

At the angle he was at, he could really only stare at your chest, so you decide to tease him. You leaned your back against the wall fully as your hands went up to cup your breasts, squeezing them together as you pinched your nipples.

Xavier groaned, finally thrusting up into you at seeing how you played with your own breasts. You gasped, your arms going around his shoulders quickly so you wouldn’t feel like you’re about to fall off him.

Your body was still leaned back so Xavier could watch how your breasts bounced with every thrust up into you. He couldn’t decide where he wanted to look. His eyes going to your face, your breasts, then finally where you two were connected. Your eyes trailed over his form, whimpering as your hands tugged at his sports tank.

“X-Xav…” You grumbled, wanting to feel his skin fully on you. Your hands tugging some more before wandering underneath to feel his hot skin. His abs flexed under your touch and you began rolling your hips with him.

“S-sorry Bunny, but I can’t take it off right now. Just bear with me.” Xavier grunted at seeing how upset you were about not being able to see him fully. If he went to take it off it would mean he’d have to set you down, and he didn’t want to be apart for even a moment. Not with how your hot walls seemed to suck him in.

You stopped putting up a fight, your hands moving to grab onto his exposed biceps as he began bouncing you on his cock. You were moaning without reservation; the sound of skin on skin slapping almost drowning it out.

You felt Xavier pull his cock out until just the head remained before slamming back up into you. Your nails dug into his biceps at the sensation as you let out a high pitched mewl, leaning back into his body. He groaned at feeling how tightly your pussy clenched as he repeated the motion, angling his hips until he was slamming right into your sweet spot.

You could feel yourself being built up again, that tight and uncomfortable coil in your stomach threatening to burst at any moment. It didn’t help that you were angled just right so every thrust had your clit grinding against him.

Xavier could feel how your walls pulsed around his length as he leaned over, “Go on, starlight, cum on my cock for me. Can you do that, beautiful?” He asked, not letting up his pace as he brutally abused your sweet spot like his life depended on it.

You felt that euphoric coil snap as your entire body tingled as you came, your walls becoming like a vice grip on Xavier’s length to the point where he could barely pump his cock in you. Your nails dug angry crescent shapes into his arms, stinging him and making Xavier groan.

He continued fucking into you, his grip on your thighs just a bit tighter as he guided your cunt on him repeatidly. You were coming down from your high, already feeling another wash of arousal coursing through you.

You gasped, placing your head in the crook of his neck as you laid sloppy, wet kisses on anything you could reach, panting his name right on his shoulder.

Xavier’s dick twitched in response to hearing your wanton moans right up against his ear, “Just a little bit more, my star, almost there.” He grunted out, his hips rolling into yours until he could pick up his pace again.

You felt so overstimulated, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let him use your body like a toy. You leaned back against the wall again, your body bouncing delicious to every thrust of his. Xavier watched where he entered you, a creamy white ring forming around the base of his cock as evidence of your release.

He groaned, “Where can I cum, starlight?” He said, not even knowing if he’d have the strength to pull out at this point.

Your entire body was buzzing and you could barely hear him with the blood rushing in your ears, “I-inside please, fuck Xav so close.” You murmured, your words coming out slurred as you felt a different tension in you. It wasn’t how you normally felt when you came and you squeezed your eyes, the pleasure getting to almost be too much.

Xavier let out an almost guttural growl as he bucked his hips into yours a few more times, his cock twitching with every rope of cum he shot into your tight heat. It was too much for you, your walls clamping down again as warm tears fell down your cheeks.

This time you felt a rush leave you, liquid squirting out of your cunt as you soaked his abs and lap in your juices. Xavier just watched, absolutely mesmerized by your release, his eyes widening as he continued pumping into you a few more times until he could see your legs shaking and you began mumbling something about it being too much.

He pulled out of you slowly, your combined release dripping onto his pants and the floor as he grabbed your legs tighter once he realized they were going slack. He leaned in, peppering kisses all over your face and neck.

“Did so good for my, my star, my galaxy, my love.” Xavier said, helping you come down from your high. You didn’t even realize the tears that had come out as you stared at him with glassy eyes.

“How are you feeling?” He asked once you started to look a bit more coherent. You murmured something, leaning in to nuzzle against his neck.

“M’fine…” You said, letting out a yawn. You felt absolutely spent and Xavier chuckled. You felt the cool wall leaving you as he began walking. You could hear him kicking off his pants that had probably been falling off his hips midway through your session.

You flinched at the fluorescent light as he flicked the switch on in the bathroom. He sat at the edge of the tub, turning on the water and feeling it to make sure it was the perfect temperature. You felt content, resting in his lap as the rushing water wanted to lull you off to sleep.

“Hey, come on, wake up. I don’t need you drowning in the bath.” Xavier teased, his soft voice wasn’t helping but you did open your eyes to look at him. You felt your breath being taken away at the look in his eyes, it was such a soft gaze that you knew was reserved just for you.

“Not gonna drown.” You said with a small pout and Xavier couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him as he leaned in and gave you a quick kiss. You instinctively went to follow his mouth and he shook his head.

“Careful, I don’t know if you could handle another round if you get me riled up.” He said, a hand going to cup your cheek and wipe away the dried tears there. You were still pouting so he sighed, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“You’re joining me in the bath so it’s not like we have to worry about me drowning either way.” You pointed out to him.

“Who said I’d be joining you?” He couldn’t help but tease you. You just seemed so adorable at the moment.

“I did, obviously.” You said, then you tugged at his shirt, “Can we finally take this off?” You asked, noticing the bottom edge seemed to be absolutely soaked.

“That seems like a good idea.” Xavier said, going to take it off of him. You easily balanced on his leg as he ripped the sports tank off and threw it over to the laundry basket he kept in the bathroom. You looked down to see the thin happy trail he had was also soaked and you gave him a confused look. You two had fucked a lot, and you hadn’t seen his pelvis this wet before.

“Why are you dripping?” You said, glancing at the droplets glistening off his abs.

Xavier smirked, “You don’t remember squirting all over me?” He asked, his innocent demeanor was crushed by his words. How someone could look like an angel while saying that was a mystery.

As his words settled in you felt embarrassed, your hand going to cover your mouth, “Say sike.” You finally uttered.

“It’s the truth, Starshine.” He teased, “I’ll have to figure out how to recreate it another time so you can remember.” You groaned in despair and looked away.

“Can we forget that ever happened?” You murmured.

“No can do, it’s engraved in my mind. I won’t bring it up though if you’d prefer.” He said and you huffed before pushing him a bit towards the tub.

“Fine…now let’s get cleaned off…and then watch a movie on the couch.” Those demands seemed good with Xavier as he dragged you into the warm water below, content to have you snuggled against his chest as he worked on getting you both cleaned.

#loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace #Xavier Love and Deepspace #Lnds #Lnds Xavier #lnds x reader #x reader #reader insert #xavier x reader #l&ds #l&ds xavier #l&ds xavier x reader #lads x reader #lads xavier #lads xavier x reader

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kyushiblast · 4 months

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How about Grusha dating someone who has a bunch of Eevees and gives him a Glaceon? I'm new to this whole requesting thing.

⤷ 〝 new pokémon. 〞

➞ pairing : grusha x gn! reader

➞ summary : you , an eevee enthusiast , give grusha a glaceon.

➞ genre : fluff

➞ cw / other : none!

➞ a/n : yes i have made a full out eevee team before.

❝ grusha ❞

— ♥ you’d taken a trip to the farther side of the mountains to seek out the latest addition to your eeveelution collection—glaceon.

— ♥ sure, you could’ve just evolved an eevee yourself. but you figured that your team could use a bit of a workout, and the cold climate filled with tons of ice type pokémon would do just the thing.

— ♥ after catching a couple or two, you made your way back home—stopping by the glaseado gym.

— ♥ finding him in the lobby, you rushed up to talk to him.

— ♥ he’d asked about your expedition, if you’d caught anything and the like. then you told him you had a surprise.

— ♥ you handed him an ultra ball. he sent you a questioning look and let out the pokemon inside.

— ♥ the glaceon immediately chirped and slinked over to grusha, pawing at the cloth of his pants. he knelt down carefully, letting the pokemon into his arms.

— ♥ “is this for me?” he asked, you nodding in reply. he lowered his scarf fully from his mouth, smiling. “it’s a perfect addition to my team.”

— ♥ you knelt too, grusha scooting closer to your presence. “thank you. it’s only fair that i give you a pokemon too, so…”

— ♥ and then he gave you one of your favorite eeveelutions as a shiny (he’d caught it and had been saving it for you), which you responded with a short kiss on the lips as thanks.

work of kyushiblast , please do not translate , copy , or repost here or on any other platform !!

#pokemon #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader #pokemon violet #grusha pokemon #pokemon sv #grusha #grusha x reader #pokemon grusha x reader #pokemon grusha #pokémon #pokémon scarlet and violet #pokemon scarlet and violet #scarlet and violet #paldea #pokemon scarvi #fluff #eeveelution #featuring…glaceon!!

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growingstories · 7 months

Text

Jonathan

Jonathan Beck, a renowned fitness influencer with a massive social media following, had established himself as a fitness expert. With his app and monthly fitness columns, he was making a comfortable living. His expertise and popularity caught the attention of Men's Health magazine, who offered him a monthly column on fitness nutrition. Jonathan's first column focused on the carnivore diet, which he thoroughly enjoyed, especially the restaurant located right below his apartment. This restaurant happened to be one of the best meat joints in town, and the owner, Berney, greatly appreciated Jonathan's positive impact on his business. The owner extended an open invitation to Jonathan to eat at his restaurant anytime.

To escape the monotony of working from home, Jonathan began writing his columns from the restaurant. Berney, being a generous host, would always bring him a substantial serving of entrecote. As weeks went by, Jonathan found himself visiting the restaurant regularly - both for his columns and to craft fitness programs for his followers. It became a gathering spot for Jonathan's followers, who would often drop by to discuss food fitness and.

The success of Jonathan's monthly column led to an extension of his collaboration with Men's Health magazine. He even landed a cover shoot and an interview. Additionally, he was given the responsibility of creating monthly meal plans for the's magazine subscribers. But, a few weeks before his photoshoot, Jonathan noticed that his abs were slightly obscured by a layer of fat.

In a desperate attempt to prepare for the shoot, he resorted to a crash diet, a practice he never endorsed on his platform due to his belief in body positivity. Miraculously, the crash diet worked, and within three weeks, his abs were once again prominently visible in the photos.

With the increasing workload, Jonathan realized that he needed assistance with his own fitness program and social media. He hired a young fitness enthusiast, Mark, to help him manage his tasks. They decided to have weekly meetings at Berney's restaurant, which meant that Jonathan's visits became more elaborate. He would start with a healthy breakfast of avocado, eggs, and steak, conduct his meetings, and then indulge in a lavish lunch, often accompanied by Berney's special cake.

Oblivious to the consequences, Jonathan's abs were once again hidden beneath a layer of fat. However, his growing popularity continued to attract more followers, and the decided magazine to offer him a prominent position as their creative director. This meant that Jonathan had to spend a few days a week in meetings with the team, while the rest of his work was carried out from Berney's restaurant. Unfortunately, amidst his newfound success, Jonathan neglected his own fitness. His belly began protruding, and Berney would jokingly poke fun at his weight during his visits. Berney graciously allowed Jonathan to sample all his new dishes, which Jonathan would eagerly devour. Meanwhile, Mark, who remained strict with his own diet, took over the task of filming workout videos.

Weeks turned into months, and Jonathan found himself completely out of shape. He casually dismissed his ex-jock physique, claiming that he was merely bulking up. One day, Jonathan crossed paths with the publishing director, Peter Stanford, who barely recognized him due to his weight gain. Peter, aware of Jonathan's love for food, offered him an enticing opportunity. He proposed a new venture called "The Big 500," a book reviewing the top 500 restaurants in the US, to be published every five years. Peter wanted Jonathan to undertake the task, which would require him to visit and review all 500 restaurants. Lured by the prospect, Jonathan accepted the offer, fully aware that it would take an immense amount of time and dedication. He shared the news with Mark, who now had additional responsibilities. To compensate, Mark received a pay raise and shares in the company. Berney, proud of their achievements, offered them a large piece of cake and champagne to celebrate.

Jonathan meticulously planned his schedule, intending to visit three restaurants each week. He would conduct his meetings remotely during the day and visit the restaurants at night. After three days in city each, he would return to Berney's to write his reviews. Berney, known for his kindness, would provide snacks to help Jonathan stay focused, and Jonathan happily indulged. The next day, Jonathan would catch up with Mark and discuss business matters. On the remaining office days, he would dedicate his time to the publishing company. Unbeknownst to him, his clothes began straining against his expanding waistline.

Recognizing the need for speed, Jonathan decided to review six restaurants per week, thereby saving time for lunch reservations. This meant that every day he visited two restaurants, enjoyed Berney's snacks, consumed airline food, and indulged in office donuts. The consequences were dire. His weight started ballooning, and rumors began circulating about his physical transformation. Determined not to give up publically, Jonathan resumed working out at the gym, utilizing his own fitness program. However, he soon realized that he had become incredibly out of shape. The strain on his clothes reminded him of his former fit self, and he resolved to get back in shape. With determination, Jonathan hit the gym every morning for a month, striving to reclaim his previous physique. He pushed himself, even though he struggled to perform basic exercises.

One day, while in the office, he stumbled upon a box of supplement bars and decided to forego his usual snacking habits. Oblivious to the fact that they were weight gainers, he enjoyed a few and took some home. He requested more bars from the office, assuming they were a healthier alternative to airline food. The office promptly ordered a large supply. Jonathan continued devouring the bars during his travels, unaware of their purpose. Weeks passed, and his clothes grew tighter once again. He struggled even to tie his shoes due to his expanding belly. His arms had also grown significantly, which he attributed to his intense workouts. It was only when Mark noticed him eating another bar that he questioned Jonathan's choice. Mark, having read an article about the bars, informed Jonathan that they were indeed weight gainers.

Jonathan halted his consumption of the bars, but his calorie intake remained high. Unwilling to abandon his goal of completing the book, he continued on his path, accepting the progressive weight gain as a cost of his ambition. Months flew by, and after two years of relentless work, Jonathan had successfully met his deadline. His book was ready for release. Despite the challenges of his weight, he felt a sense of accomplishment. Peter, satisfied with Jonathan's performance, made him the creative director of the entire publishing company and offered to buy his fitness platform.

Jonathan weighed his options and eventually accepted the offer, understanding that this transition would provide a more structured and manageable pace. After dedicating himself wholeheartedly for two years, he had achieved his goals and set himself up for a successful future.

#fictionalweightgain #maleweightgain #maleweightgainstories #weightgain #weightgainstories #fictionalstories #wg fantasy #wg fiction #exjock #ai artwork #aiweightgain

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twinklelilstarkey · 2 years

Text

Silence - Hangman

Words: 5.4k+ Type: Smut & Fluff Summary: After a fight, Jake invades your morning routine. Warnings: Fem!Reader. Mentions of fighting and it is a petty fight that escalated. Silent treatment. Some childish behaviors from both characters. SMUT {shower sex, piv sex, no protection}. from this request by @barbiegirlbaby

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

By clicking to read more, you are agreeing that you are over the age of 18 and mature enough to read mature scenes :)

You love your boyfriend. Love him more than anything on this Earth. And that is why you can say that he can be the most infuriating person you’ve ever met.

You two fight like any other couple. It’s never too many fights but they do happen, just whenever you two disagree on something strongly or when something goes slightly wrong and neither of you wants to admit your fault in the matter. Sometimes the fights can be big but, most of the time, they’re quite small. The two of you are good to go on the next morning, usually.

The argument you had yesterday night... it's debatable. You two argued over something extremely small. The argument became so ridiculous that even Jake started laughing at one point. It was a small thing that escalated to more because the both of you hadn’t had a good day at work and came home tired. If you knew you were to finish a night in that way, you would’ve slept in the car.

It was followed by the silent treatment. Jake started it by walking off and, when he came back to ask you for something, you decided to be petty and leave him in the silence for at least some minutes. When going to sleep, the two of you faced opposite sides and drifted off to the world of dreams eventually.

Jake woke up this morning earlier than you, as he usually does to work out in the morning. He saw you asleep and facing him this time, and he simply stared at you for quite a while. He knows that everything will be sorted by the first hour of either of you being awake, yet, still, he stayed in bed for just a little longer.

When you woke up, ready to go to work for the last day of the week, you can’t exactly say you were in a bad mood. You had the same plans as Jake: you wanted to make up. But something came up. You started with your usual morning routine. Started off by turning on the coffee machine so you have coffee to have with breakfast and to take to work, sort out your clothes, and much more.

But all of your plans of following your morning routine perfectly are ruined when you walk to the bathroom.

You’re just now standing in the doorway, hearing the shower running at full strength, and, obviously, occupied. Sure, you could use the other shower in the guest’s room, but you still need to grab your essentials inside this same shower to do it.

Your plans to make up with Jake disappeared from your mind for these exact seconds. Why is he still in the shower? By this time, he should’ve been more than done with the post-workout shower and already in the living room or something.

You walk inside the bathroom, looking at yourself in the just small fog that is appearing at the corners of the mirror. He probably didn’t start showering that long ago since the room doesn’t even feel hot yet. You let a sigh out loud and begin to undress.

You have to take a shower. You don’t have much time before work, and today also wouldn’t be the first time you’d do it with Jake with you. So, no problem at all.

Your shirt (originally Jake’s) is thrown into the laundry basket and so is your underwear, and, with only two steps, you’re standing by the shower. Jake doesn’t even react when you pull the curtain open. Yet, what he does not expect is to hear you get in behind him and close it back up. Something in his chest flourishes at the idea that maybe, just maybe, you’re going to talk to one another and be okay as always. But your silence continues.

Jake does consciously give you some space to stand in the shower too, even when he’s deep in his own mind, but when your eyes meet, that grin appears on his face. It’s this cocky grin that he does a lot, and you know it’s just to tease you.

“Good morning.” He tells you.

Your silence and look of no readable expression are enough to confirm Jake’s suspicions. You’re still mad.

You stand in front of him as he gives you space under the showerhead, and you turn your back to him, letting the hot water cascade down your body. Your silence continues as Jake stares at you as if you’ve grown 2 more heads, and he still lets his eyes look you up and down. You shut off the water and reach in for the product you need.

Jake hasn’t lost hope, in fact, this exact moment is fueling his mind with ideas. He leans in closer to you as you begin to scrub your arms with the soap, and you pause at the feeling of a pair of warm lips laying a kiss on your shoulder.

Your body likes to behave in ways you don’t want it to when it comes to your boyfriend, but, thankfully, you get back to washing yourself as before. Jake doesn’t stop when you go back to what you were doing. His kisses begin to move up your shoulder to the crook of your neck and eventually your neck. You try to ignore the chills running down your body. His kisses are simple against your skin. They're wet and loud in the silent shower. You can feel him stand mere inches behind you, and you can only swallow in dry and keep on going.

Jake then puts two and two together to understand that you’re trying to ignore him completely, not just his words. You’ve done this before, and it ended in a way he’s very proud to say was 5 minutes later. He can always try and see if he can make it faster.

He nips at the skin of your neck, and you almost flinch, so, he changes to your other side. The kisses are soft, and you’re constantly fighting your own body as your eyes want to close and force you to enjoy it. You can’t let them. Jake takes a step closer and lays a kiss on your head as well. You continue on with the soap, moving on to your chest and stomach, as well as ignoring him as best as you can.

“Still mad at me?” He whispers right into your ear, and he doesn’t get any sort of answer, “Because when I woke up to see you all cuddled up with me, I thought we were okay.”

You don’t let his words get to your head but you do almost gasp (again) when you feel his hands lay over your hips. You focus on keeping your breathing steady and seemingly unaffected and keep working the soap throughout your body. Jake pulls you back and closer to him, and you feel his chest against your back. You still don’t react, but you do put down the soap to just work the product with your hands.

Jake watches as you do it, his hands still by your hips and his head just beside yours. He watches as you spread the soap all throughout your naked body and continue to ignore his presence. One of his hands lifts and starts working the soap on your skin slowly. His hand is bigger than yours and harsher than yours, but it moves slowly and softly. No touch is harsh. His other hand eventually joins in, and you try to be petty to the point of washing over his hands, acting if they’re not there, but he doesn’t let you. He holds your hands as soon as they try to move over his. His arms still hold you, and he pulls you closer to him.

You don’t try to pull your hands away from his, but when he places a kiss on your cheek, you look at him. Jake is surprised to see you finally do it, but the look you're giving him is so unaffected at first, that it almost scares him. That is only until he notices that small little bit of defiance in your glance. After all, you’re playing as much as he is.

He lets go of your hands and, as you don’t move at first, his hands do and they continue to wash you. His palms and fingers spread the soap further, not hesitating into moving to your breasts. You don’t stop him. His skin works against yours as if with no problem. He does know every little inch of your skin as if it’s his, he has touched it, seen it, and tasted it many times before.

It’s when his hand begins to move over closer to your chest that you finally move. You grab the soap back to try to continue to wash the rest of your body, and Jake snatches it from your hand. You, now empty-handed, follow to see how the soap is taken into his hand and disappears behind you. You almost let yourself laugh when you feel the soap against your back. One of his hands lays the soap and the other one spreads it. You let him do it, and then, you stop feeling it.

You wait for only a few more seconds, acting as if you're still washing the already scrubbed skin, and finally turn around to look for your soap. You’re faced with Jake using your soap across his hairy chest, from both of his pecks to his abs, and you try to disconnect the part belonging to your petty brain from your horny brain for a little bit. He does the same thing he did to your back, one hand on the soap, and another one on his skin.

You watch him, trying to act as unbothered as possible, and wait to have your soap back. You look at his chest, forcing yourself to never get the urge to touch him or anything of the sort. When he’s done, even with his arms and shoulders - which you forced yourself not to stare at for too long -, you reach to get the soap back. But, unsurprisingly, Jake doesn’t let you take it.

“Do you want it?” He asks you as you just stare at the soap, “That comes with a price.”

You could not hold yourself for giving him a glare. He smiles at your annoyed expression and pretends to offer you the soap, but when you go to grab it, he pulls it away all over again. He leans closer to you and puts his hand (and the soap) behind his back. You look up at his face and wait for him to speak.

“You gotta ask.” He tells you, “First if you can have it, and, secondly… If I forgive you.”

Your glare was not held back yet again.

“Are you going to do it?” He asks you.

“Just give me the soap.”

He smiles down at you with his perfectly white straight teeth and leans his head closer to yours. He expects you, since you are mad, to pull back or away from him when he does it, but you do not move a muscle. Your noses are almost touching, and he still smiles down at your frowning face.

“Are you still mad over yesterday?” He asks you in a whisper.

The silence in the tiled bathroom almost makes his voice appear louder than it really is, and his words haunt your brain.

You continue to stare at him, from his smile to his eyes. You notice how his smile subsides a little and it’s substituted by his grin instead. His eyes continuously stare back into yours.

“Give me the soap.” You say very slowly while tilting your head a little higher.

His hand appears from behind his back, but you don’t take it just yet. You stare back up to see he hasn’t moved much, and his eyes appear softer now.

“Are you going to let me take it?” You ask, just in case.

“Are you going to stop ignoring me?”

“Are you going to apologize?”

Jake stays silent for just a little bit.

“Are you?” He asks in return.

You lean your head back just a bit to take a better look at his face and see how he just awaits your answer as much as you do his. He brings his face a little closer, and you let him. Your lips are almost touching and, under his breath, you hear him whisper.

“No deal, then.”

You bring your hand up and smack his pec, making the man laugh in your face and stand up straight once more. You turn around to look for an extra bar of soap, and Jake glues his body to yours right away. His arm is laid around your chest, and you try to ignore it as you keep looking.

He starts laying kisses on the side of your head now, then around your ear, your cheek, your temple, and your forehead. He takes his arm from around your chest and brings his hand with the soap back to your body. He washes your skin, moving down to your hips, ass, and thighs.

You let him do it. Why wouldn’t you? If you’re going to be late to work for sure at this rate, might as well go in knowing that you can make your boyfriend your servant every morning. Jake becomes so invested that he even turns you around to keep on going.

You watch him as he does everything with such a concentrated stare. Something inside of you made you forget what you were just doing seconds ago, noticing how soft and tender he’s being after being so terribly annoying.

“You missed a spot.” You say, eyeing your knee.

Jake can’t help but laugh at what you say, and you lift your leg to point at the so-identified ‘unwashed’ spot. Jake does as told. When the soaping is done, you watch as he throws the little bar over to its usual spot and begins to use his hands to work all through your body. He eventually comes back up and pulls you flush against him.

“Any more spots I missed?” He asks you.

That shouldn’t have made you laugh, or smile even, but it did. A small chuckle, one carried with an exhale, escapes your mouth, and Jake swears that he has never been prouder than in that exact moment. His slippery hands continue to hold you against him, and your hands move over to his forearms, planning on pushing him away.

You still don’t talk to him. God, you don’t even open your mouth to do so. Jake stares at you and swears that if he has to hold you in place and wait an hour for some sort of response, he will do it. Oh, and he would do it in a heartbeat.

You notice his need for your answer. Your boyfriend has always been determined to get what he wants, and that is why you open your mouth to speak. Words do not come out, though. Not a thing does. But you do lift your hand from his arm and turn on the water above you, surprisingly startling the pilot glued to you.

His hard work, all of the scrubbing and soaping around is washed with the water cascading the both of you, and you still haven’t said a word to him. So, even under the water, he holds you tighter to him, and you feel it. You look up at him and, when noticing that it’s easier said than done to stare into his eyes, you distract yourself by bringing water to his chest with your hand and letting the water wash away the soap.

It’s out of nowhere but, suddenly, Jake leans down and kisses you. It’s a peck, a simple kiss, just lips on top of lips for a few seconds.

The warm water is now hitting his shoulder and shielding you from the spray, and he begins to part his lips. You shouldn’t have kept on going with him. You should’ve stood your ground as the determined woman that you are. You have responsibilities for this morning, such as your work and the coffee machine in the kitchen. You know that. But Jake will always be hard to say ‘no’ to.

The kiss never becomes wild or desperate but does evolve into making out. One of your hands stays on his pec and the other one comes to hold the back of his head. Kissing made you forget your worries and your childish ways to fix real-life problems, and, deep down, you know you need to have him close to you all over again.

Jake is the one that breaks the kiss, and that leaves the two of you to stare at one another. He lifts a hand off your body and turns off the water, leaving the two of you in awful pure silence once more. His hand comes back to your body as you continue to stare at him, and Jake’s mind continues to try to remind him of his plan.

“I will still need an apology to continue on.” He whispers.

That breaks the bubble you were just in, but you don’t let him notice it.

“So do I.” You tell him too.

Jake squeezes you close to his body, and you swear that your torsos have never been this close, there is not an inch of skin that isn’t touching. He moves and takes a step closer to you, only to force you to take one step back due to the lack of space.

A clear gasp escapes your lips when your back hits the cold wall and, before you even have time to complain or send some sort of threatening glare at your boyfriend, he kisses you yet again. This time, it takes you way less time to kiss back.

The wall begins to warm up with your own temperature, and you feel one of Jake’s hands let go of you. Your fingers cling onto the wet strands of hair at the back of his head and even move further up to grab the longest ones. You only pull him to bring his mouth closer to yours - if that is even possible - and a groan leaves Jake’s lips, vibrating against your own.

He separates his lips from yours and begins to leave down a trail of kisses all the way over to your neck. It’s the kisses on your neck that almost make you melt and become one with the surface behind you. The warmth of his mouth, the softness of his lips, the sensation of his tongue. All of it just to leave a trail of so desperately good kisses on your skin.

Jake’s vacant hand comes back to you, smoothing over your skin in the meantime. He palms at your hips, your ass, your thighs, anything that he can get a hold of. This was his plan to make you speak your sorrows and forgiveness, but he swears that it’s beginning to backfire.

He brings his lips back to yours, and you let out a small moan against his lips. Jake swears that sound alone is sacred, something carved from the world’s best, and it all reaches his ears simply because he is making you feel good while not doing much at all. He would be stupid to not consider himself lucky to have you.

The sounds of making out fill the empty bathroom, they appear louder and that only motivates the two of you to subconsciously deepen the kiss and grip each other more tightly. It doesn’t make sense how it works. It’s some sort of hypnosis that you give one another with just each other’s presence.

Before Jake can get lost in his plan even further, he pulls away from the kiss. He can feel the way your hand grips onto his hair to pull him back to it, but he doesn’t do it, he just stares at you. Your hand slides from the top of his head to the back yet again, and your touch almost makes him forget everything. He seriously needs to concentrate.

“Why did you stop?” You whisper innocently.

He leans in closer to you, acting as if he’s going to kiss you again, but he doesn’t do it.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Say what?” You whisper back to his mouth. Your mind has gone foggy after what just happened.

“Your apology.”

Your body goes rigid, snapped awake from your dreamland. You two are too close up to have this conversation, you can’t even look at his face right. Lack of patience grants you your next move. Your fingers cling onto his hair, and you push him away from your face by the strands. You look angry, angry at him.

“You really like to ruin things, don’t you?” You ask him, making his smirk reappear.

He doesn’t answer, he just grins proudly at himself.

You pull at his hair, and he inhales sharply at that. Your hold on his hair relaxes once he's distant enough, but he brings his face closer to yours again, unaffected by your actions. He looks at your angry face and pecks your lips just one time. The two of you can’t stay mad even if your life depended on it, so, Jake likes to abuse that theory.

“I’m not saying it until you agree to say it too.” You tell him before receiving another kiss on your lips.

Jake’s hand on your body begins to work the path it was making during your long kiss, and it squeezes and explores your flesh while the two of you stay silent.

“Say it.” He whispers against your lips.

His hand moves downwards and grabs onto your thigh. He grabs it and holds it to his hip. You let him do it, already feeling the flame awake at the very bottom of your stomach.

“Say it.” He repeats. “Say it, and I’ll give you what you want.”

Some sort of warm shiver works through you, and you bring your mouth closer to his. He pulls back, giving you the same space as before. He presses a kiss on the corner of your mouth and brings his mouth to hover back over yours, but he doesn’t kiss you anymore.

“Say it with me, then.” You whisper back at him, trying not to smile at him. “We can say it at the same time, and it all will be done.”

Jake analyzes your face for a while, and nothing suspicious is noticed. You want to laugh at your plan or smile at the very least but you can’t. You need to focus. You work your fingers through his hair and remember how he was the one that was in your shower at this time of the morning. Exactly when he should’ve been out and about by then.

You need to remember the cause.

“On 3?” You ask him with a tiny smile.

Jake, still unaware of your plan, actually agrees to it, and you swore that it made your heart squeeze at it. Poor thing.

“One…” You whisper against his lips before pressing a kiss on his lips, so short yet so loving at the same time, “Two…” You do it again, yet this time Jake almost chases you, “Three…” There’s a beat of silence, “I’m so…”

You don’t finish your words, but Jake does.

“I’m sorry.”

By the time he gets to the last letter, he notices. He didn’t get or act mad at you, he chuckles against your mouth and pulls you in closer to him.

“Oh, you’re in trouble, now.” He says against your mouth, louder than a whisper.

You giggle when he attaches his mouth to yours, and he lets go of your body to grab onto your other thigh. It’s risky to do such a thing in the shower, but you seriously have much else to focus on.

You disconnect from the kiss to jump into his lap and wrap your legs around Jake, propping you up higher on the wall. You laugh your way up and then look down at your boyfriend. He still looks surprised that he was defeated after trying out his plan, but, right as you cradle his face close to you to kiss him, he forgets it.

His hands squeeze and hold you by the back of your thighs, your bodies are wet and glued to one another.

Midway through the kiss, he moves his hips against you, making you let out one of those heavenly sounds all over again. He’s hard against you, he has been for a while now. You deepen the kiss when he lifts one of his hands and begins to move his body to somewhat create a distance between you.

You can feel the tip of his cock between your folds in a space of a second, and you sigh into the kiss. You’re wet and have been ever since he was spreading the soap throughout your body. It’s with ease that he slides right in.

“Fuck.” He grunts when the two of you have to forcefully separate your kiss to breathe.

You move your hands to his shoulders and close your eyes while leaning your head on the wall. Jake is stretching you like he always does, and it feels way too good. Your walls squeeze his cock tightly, and your boyfriend breathes heavily at it.

You bring your lips back to his before your hips completely attach, and the two of you freely moan against each other’s mouths when it happens. Jake stays in place for just a second, giving you time to adjust to him.

Your entire body feels like it’s going to implode with how much you can feel and how much you missed every bit of this. When Jake begins to move his hips against yours, you cling to him and separate from the kiss to gasp for breath. He presses you against the wall and, sensing the low temperature of the tile, you gasp as another sort of shiver runs through you.

Jake begins to really move and his cock begins to easily slide back and forth inside of you. His hands on your thighs grip them forcefully. He watches as he slides in and out of you, his length collecting your slick and moving with such ease inside of you. Your walls grip him each time, and the sight of your naked wet body before him is just another reason for his body to burn under his skin.

The two of you try to kiss but it’s a lost effort. The pleasure is too high. It's some kind of turmoil in your stomach, tightening and twisting at every movement each of you moves. Every time you bring your moths together for a kiss, it's a plan lost. Your minds are going blank and blind to your objectives, completely lost in the pleasure.

You begin to move your hips as well, and Jake can only hold you tighter to him. Even the feeling of your wet torsos sliding on one another seems stimulating. Your boobs squished into his hairy chest, your stomach against his abs, his hands digging into your soft thighs. Everything feels too good.

“Jake” You moan his name right after you moved your own body to meet his thrusts. Your boyfriend groans into your skin, feeling your soaked warm walls squeeze his cock as he watches your face just above his. Your face frowned with pleasure while sweet sounds come out of your mouth time and time again.

“So good, baby. So good.” He whispers into the skin of your chest.

The sound of your skin slapping together is heard in the bathroom from time to time during the deeper thrusts. The bathroom is so silent and so echoey that you can hear everything. When you’re able to kiss, you can hear your lips connecting and disconnecting. You can also hear your breathing against one another’s mouths. You hear the wet noises of his cock going in and out of you. Everything.

Your hands move all throughout the skin that you can reach. You go from Jake’s hair to his neck, shoulders, and chest. Everything feels like him, everything feels exactly how you want it to feel. Your breasts move with each of Jake’s thrusts when you lean back on the wall, and your head falls back onto the tiles each time he brings his mouth to your skin.

The two of you aren’t sure why everything feels so good. It could be from not talking to one another. Going from not receiving any attention or touch to feeling all of it. Jake loves to feel your hands on him, and he loves to move his own around every inch of you. He swears that sometimes he holds you a little tighter because he can’t believe you’re even real, let alone his.

“Don’t stop, Jake, please, don’t sto-” You whisper breathlessly into his mouth, cutting yourself off with a moan.

He’s able to let go of one of your legs as it alone squeezes him closer to you, and he lets that same hand explore you. He holds your waist, your hips, your breasts… Even your face. Your kisses keep on going, sometimes being able to last a little longer than before as you're able to concentrate even when the pleasure keeps on building up.

You moan loudly against his mouth as soon as Jake's vacant hand finds your clit. His fingers move over the small nub time and time again. You move your body just as a mere reaction to his touch. There wouldn’t be a way that your own hands could ever compare to his, and you swear that he knows your body better than you do. He knows where and when to touch, where to kiss, where to squeeze, how to thrust, how to pinch, how to do everything.

Your orgasm approaches much sooner than you expect. The burning never really stops exploring your body and running through you from every artery and then every vein. Your body glues itself to Jake’s, wanting more of him attached to you. You whine into his kiss when you can’t exactly have that, and Jake just wraps his arm around you and squeezes you to him. He will always know what you need.

You detach from the kiss, letting out a moan of what seems more like a sob, and Jake keeps doing everything that you need. Even when his hand isn’t over your clit anymore, everything else is enough. His mouth on your neck, his hand digging on your thigh, and the way his thrusts just get more and more precise to exactly where you need him the most. It only takes him one more thrust, and you come absolutely undone around him.

The orgasm is so powerful, that your ears ring, and your vision goes white. Your body tenses up and relaxes in various ways and moves exactly like it did not too long ago. Your walls squeeze Jake’s cock and wet him to the point of the sounds becoming nastier and more addicting to listen to. And he cums right after you.

The two of you ride your highs together, bringing your lips to one another even if it's just to have that extra bit of skin touching. When done, you two kiss, and you can only lean onto Jake.

When you put your first foot down, Jake is still supporting most of your weight, yet you can still feel your leg shaking. That makes you chuckle, and Jake notices it just like you do, helping you stand when he lets go of your other leg.

You wrap your arms around his neck when both feet are on the ground, and his arms wrap around you securely. You look at one another for a few seconds, trying to be back to a normal heartbeat and breathing rhythm.

“I’m sorry.” You finally decide (and remember) to say it back to him.

Jake’s face washes in confusion.

“For what?”

You smile at him and shake your head as you begin to laugh. It takes the blonde a great bit of time to understand what you could possibly be apologizing for and, by the time he does it, you’re shamelessly giggling at him while leaning your face into his chest.

When he chuckles with you, you look back up at him and bring your hand to the back of his head to pull him into a kiss.

“You’re lucky I love you.” He tells you with a smile.

“I am.” You answer back with a smile of your own.

Before he could say anything, you turn back the water and let it practically hit Jake straight in the face. Your giggles fill the bathroom once more, and, all of a sudden, your laughter is broken with a gasp as Jake is able to reach in and turn the water to cold while you’re right in range.

Your laughter eventually comes back and it is then muffled with a kiss, making you melt onto him.

Hope you liked this!! Feedback is always appreciated <3

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