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folkloreguk · 3 years

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🍒Cherry Ice Cream (2)🍒

A/N: Part two is here! There won't be another one after this. I just wanted to split it into two little scenarios with one being cute and the other not so cute lmao...I hope you enjoy - as always I appreciate feedback a lot!

taglist: @lovely-ateez

genre: smut, optional bias (m) x reader (f), lifeguard!au, pool sex, unprotected sex

words: 3.4 k

PART 1 (fluff, both parts can be read independently)

It was the middle of the summer holidays and you had never been happier. Sunny weather, swimming, lots of free time and as much ice cream as you wanted were only a few of the reasons for your luck. The main cause was the boy of your dreams. A few weeks ago, you had met. It had been the most chaotic, embarrassing day at the public swimming pool – or so you had initially thought. Turns out being a walking disaster could not only attract negative attention. When the otherworldly handsome and kind lifeguard had pulled your clumsy figure out of the water and even bought you ice cream to make you feel better, you had a feeling things were about to change. And you hadn’t been wrong. Maybe you were seeing things through rose-colored glasses and a mix of lovestruck hormones, but you suspected he might just really be this great.

Ever since your first ice cream date, the two of you had been inseparable. Looks were one thing – and you had made yourself aware that though he was a picture of perfection, he could still have turned out to not be your type at all. But the inside reflected on his outside. Every day you found out a new enrapturing detail about him. He was a never-ending book that you were utterly unwilling to put back down.

Your days were spent at the public swimming pool, watching your lifeguard boyfriend do his job and questioning if this was all some sort of hidden camera prank. During his break he came running straight to your spot under the trees and plopped down on your towel, ready to spend the most time with you until he had to go back. Although your streak of bad luck was over, he still took care of you and made sure you were okay in the heat. He reminded you to drink enough water and sent you a good morning text every day. When he had first asked you to help him put sunscreen on his shoulders, you had hesitated with cheeks hotter than the sunlight that day. Now it was a daily thing, and sometimes when his hands were on your back, rubbing in the lotion, you caught yourself wishing there weren’t a hundred families around you. But it was hard scoring alone time with him at the pool. Even later at night, right before closing time, there were always one or two diehard swimming fans there.

“I love watching my cute girlfriend swim,” he would keep telling you.

“You better make sure you’re paying attention to the rest of the visitors, too,” you would reply, but secretly love his flirty remarks. Perhaps he wasn’t even so far off. After your first encounter, it was apparent that maybe you were the one guest who didneed the closest monitoring. Even his co-workers knew of you. They had made it their life mission to remind him daily how whipped he was for you, but he never cared about their teasing.

At night, you rode your bikes home. Towards the candy cotton clouds on the horizon, through the small suburb, you rode side by side, still damp hair flowing in the wind. Outside your home he cupped your face then, the sun kissed skin of his hands still warm to the touch. Like he was the slowly setting sun himself, he kissed you goodnight. You were addicted to his lips. He made you fly, brought back all your fondest memories as if he himself was in them, and let you forget every worry you’ve ever had in the world.

One evening at the pool, you lay on your bathmat, headphones in your ears and your favorite summer playlist taking you to another world. Suddenly, two hands grabbed you by the shoulders. You jerked up in surprise.

“Oh my god, we could have hit our heads together!” you scolded your boyfriend, who was smiling at you like an innocent five-year old.

“Guess what. My boss just told me that I can close the place up tonight. You know what that means, right?” he said.

“Tell me more,” you smirked.

“Technically, we can stay here however long we want. And do whatever we want. As long as no one finds out,” he whispered the last part into your ear. Chills ran up your spine despite the heat in the air.

“Do whatever we want, huh?” you said. “I thought you were being a model employee?”

“I am,” he shrugged with his child-like smile. “And the model employee needs to go back to work now. I have a reputation to uphold. You’ll be waiting for me, right?”

“Of course,” you nodded, watching his figure as he jogged back to his seat by the pool. The next hours seemed to go by extra-slowly, to your dismay. After his announcement, you only found yourself staring in his direction more than on any other day. Truly, you could never get used to his handsomeness. You thought of his voice that made you melt like ice and his hands when he kissed you. Too often they remained in innocent, safe territory. Maybe that was about to change. It was a Friday, meaning the opening hours were longer than usual. By 10 pm however, even the last person had left. The public swimming pool was closed. Officially.

You had to admit, you could get used to having an enormous swimming pool all to yourself. Blissfully, you dived through the water, not having to worry about crashing into anybody’s legs or losing track of your surroundings. You had always felt as though swimming was a little like flying. Not that you knew what flying would be like. But if you had to make a guess, feeling weightless and small in a seemingly endless space probably came close. All your life, it had remained the same. Playing pretend in the water, acting like a mermaid scavenging for the most precious treasure of the seven seas – all your loveliest ideas lingered in your memory like it had been yesterday.

The pool had a shallow end, about the depth which allowed your head to reach above the surface, and progressively deepened towards the other end. You took a gulp of air and descended into the darkness. Taking long strokes, you dived towards the white light at the wall of the shallower pool end. With the brightness ahead of you, you failed to notice the shadow behind you.

As you were in the process of coming up from the water, a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around you. For the second time that day, you jolted in surprise and quickly gasped for air.

“You scared me out of my wits! Will you stop that!” you said, but you were already smiling. It was hard to carry grudges against the boy behind you. Not when he held your waist and rested his chin on your bare shoulder, grinning as if it was a crime to even suspect him of such things.

“Hi, there,” he said and pecked your cheek sweetly. “I missed you.”

“So did I,” you admitted. Only months ago, you had made fun of how lovestruck your friend had been. You weren’t one to speak now. His hands let go of you while you turned your body to face him. Then they were on you again, and although it was a small touch, your lack of clothes created a tension between you right away.

“Wanna race me?” he whispered into your ear, as if there was anyone around to listen in. Was he serious? Did he really think you wanted him to let go of you now? His voice on your neck rendered you wanting him so bad, you had to take a deep breath to compose yourself.

“I’ve been swimming all day,” you said. “Besides, didn’t you say we could do whatever we wanted? We can swim whenever we want, during opening hours.”

“Oh, sounds like you have better plans?” he asked. For a moment, he touched your forehead with his. If you bent forward slightly, you could have kissed him. His hungry eyes were on your lips when you had finished the thought.

“I was thinking you could kiss me, for starters?” you coaxed him. He chuckled.

“So you’ve been thinking about it too, the past few hours,” he realized. “You know, I was trying to be subtle about it.”

“Forget about being subtle,” you said. “Let’s just make out, please?”

“I’d like nothing better than that,” he smiled, and then your mouths touched. His gentle lips tasted faintly of chlorine and salt, a taste you had come to associate with him and magnificent things. You held his face in your hands tightly and pushed your body against him yearningly. Reacting, he sighed and deepened the kiss. His wandering hands found the small of your backside as you arched your back into his frame. You hummed quietly, hands burying in his wet hair and playing with it at the nape of his neck.

All your childhood you had been searching for your treasure under the water. Now you understood. He was right there in front of you. Little you would be proud you had found someone this precious and incomparable. And hot.

“Jump,” he said. You did as he suggested and wrapped your legs around his waist. The proximity of his body made your heart hammer against your ribcage with such feverishness, you worried it might jump through your chest. With the way he touched every curve of your body, you almost forgot how to kiss. Luckily, your instincts did the job for you as you sipped on his lips and sighed every so often. He caught your bottom lip between his teeth, and you felt his smirk when you moaned in surprise. Every inch of your skin burned with desire for him.

As he carried you over to the side of the pool, you pulled away shortly. You took the liberty to attack his neck with frenzied kisses. It felt just as you had imagined a thousand times. You couldn’t possibly recount all the instances when you had found yourself staring at his neck and shoulders in the past weeks. He was easily the biggest distraction you had ever known. But it wasn’t your fault his tanned skin was so inviting and his strong presence ever so alluring. Returning his teasing, you bit into his shoulder, kissing and sucking on it right after.

“Fuck, baby,” he said in a throaty tone. “You’re amazing.”

Softly, he rubbed his nose against yours before your lips locked again. The kiss was all but soft. Your tongues meddled as if you were starved people and you could barely keep your hands in one place. Not that you would want to. You wanted to glue his hands onto your body or better yet handcuff him to your wrists. What was the opposite of a restraining order called? You were about to invent a word for it. Never before had you been so intoxicated, so in ecstasy with another person.

He pulled aside the fabric of your top momentarily and cupped your breasts in his hands. You gasped and melted into his touch and the way he played with your nipples. He attacked your neck in kisses and you shut your eyes, enjoying the sensation of his lips.

“I really want you.” He had his hands on your ass and all you could think about was the growing bulge in his swimming shorts. Your hard nipples rubbed against his chest, the thin fabric of your swim top doing little to nothing to separate your bodies. How could somebody’s whole existence be so titillating? He pulled away, just far enough to speak but barely. “I’ve wanted you like this for a while. But I didn’t want to unsettle you by making you think I just want sex from you. Truth is, I don’t want you to be just some summer romance, Y/N. Every day I hope you’ll still be here when summer is over.”

“Why would you think I’m going anywhere?” you asked. “You’re the reason I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I ask myself every day how I managed to end up with you in the first place.”

“That’s easy. First, threaten to demolish the turnstile with your stubbornness, second, offer your head to a bunch of kids with a water ball, third, square up against a bug in front of a hundred people, fourth- “

“Okay! Enough,” you said. “Don’t bring up my clumsiness. That’s just about the least sexy thing in the world.”

“Baby, I think there’s nothing not sexy about you,” he spoke. He kissed you deeply and all your embarrassing memories vanished at once. “So, you’re cool with this?”

His sudden change in tone caused your breath to hitch in your throat, as his hands lingered by your hips, just above your bikini bottom. You only nodded, the motion getting more eager as the words sunk in. He slid his fingers along the inside of your thigh, and you squirmed under his touch in desperation. Swiftly, he pushed aside the material above your center. His digits slid through your wetness, catching the nub between them, and rubbing ever so slowly. An overwhelmed gasp spilled over your lips, and you closed your eyelids.

“Fuck- ,“ you muttered under your breath. He teased your core, nearly sliding his finger into you, but then pulling away to find your nub to toy with.

“You look so beautiful,” he said. At his words, you looked at him through fluttering eyelids. He was one to talk about beauty. The luminescence from underwater sharpened his features, and his eyes had something magical, something enchanting about them. Like he could have you – or anyone – without saying a word. He reminded you of a merman, or rather a siren. Ready to drag you along with him, deep under the surface. And you were so willing to let it happen. For all you knew, you were long lost and under his spell anyway.

“Have you ever done it in public?” he asked. You were too distracted by his fingers on you at first, head hanging back in ecstasy, until you snapped out of it.

“No, but – fuck – I guess I can strike that one off my sex bucket list after tonight, can’t I?” you said.

“You have a sex bucket list? Interesting, tell me more about it,” he smirked. His eyes darkened and his tongue licked over his lips once. As if on command, his lazy ministrations on you quickened, rubbing your clit in small, circular motions until you were a moaning, stammering mess. You suspected he did so just to see your immediate reaction, and you gave him just what he wanted.

“Can we postpone the – the talking…on later?” you murmured, feeling like collapsing against his broad shoulders. “I’m kind of too busy to – to talk.”

“I can see that,” he teased you, kissing you gently. The delicacy of his lips only made your head spin more. “You’re so sweet, baby.”

“Don’t you want to get busy too?” you asked. You reached for his swimming trunks and wrapped your hand around his hard member through the material. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”

“Shit- me too.” His arousal echoed in his moans, and he sucked in a breath. There was a sense of power in knowing you could make him react so gravely by doing so little. You tugged on his trunks and pulled them down a little to reveal his full length. Palming him, you felt how painfully hard he must have been for a while now. He groaned and it was the best thing you had ever heard. Eagerly, you slid your bikini bottom off and watched for a moment as it sunk down into the depths of the pool. Your legs wrapped around his waist again as he aligned his cock with your core.

At this point you supposed you were both out of words. Hunger had taken over and you barely managed to form a sentence. He kissed you and you hummed and nodded, wanting him to know you were ready. Easily, he entered you and you whimpered at the way he stretched your velvet walls after all the wait. Your senses were overcome with everything around you. The warm water enveloping the both of you, the soft summer breeze caressing your faces, his hands on your hips as he guided your body into his thrusts and the sound of your breathless moans and sighs – it was pure bliss. Night had almost fallen, with the sky being a deep blue, almost black by now. It was a perfect setting for a perfect night with your favorite person.

You gazed into his dilated pupils and the coil in your stomach tightened in the most delicious way possible. Now you recounted a myriad of dreams you’d seen him in. Not always, but occasionally he showed up in your dirtiest of dreams, with his gorgeous, addictive smile and strong arms. But now he was right there, in front of you – inside of you – and you apprehended how weak your boldest imaginations had been. Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders as you clenched around his cock. He moaned your name huskily and it only clouded your head further.

It was crazy how loving a person could magnify everything. Even with closed eyes, the mere idea of him fucking you, at night in a public pool, could beat every single other experience you’d ever had. You felt like you were blessed with the audience with a god. A god, who had manifested on earth only to scoop you up and show you the finest things in life. You definitely couldn’t think of a finer thing than his cock dragging through your walls, hitting your g-spot repeatedly, while he had you cased against the pool tiles. Moans and little whimpers fell from your lips, and you were glad there wasn’t a single soul close by who could have heard.

He was jaw-dropping. With the way he pounded into you hard, using the poolside wall as support on your back, you felt your head spin as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your skin seemed to prickle wherever he touched you and you pushed your chest against his. Just a little closer, you told yourself, even though you were running out of space already. It was body against body while he whispered naughty things into your ears, telling you how incredible you felt, how lucky he had gotten with you and how sexy he found you.

“You’re the fucking best I’ve ever had, baby,” he said. His teeth grazed your neck as he kissed your sensitive skin messily. You could have counted every single drop of water hanging from the strands of his hair and adorning his face. Could have taken notice of every single eyelash and even the tiniest speckles of color in his irises. But you could barely command your eyes to stay open.

“So- close,” you said. In your ecstasy, you clawed at his back as another wave of pleasure went through your entire body.

“Together, hm?” he said, lips brushing over your cheek with every thrust. You hummed and nodded, as he picked up his thrusts to a toe-curling speed. With every touch of your sweet spot, you felt reality slip away a little further, and you were doing nothing to fight it. You invited the feeling in, resting your forehead against his, breaths coming out in short puffs. And then it overcame you. Your orgasm jolted through you like electricity, and you clung to him as if you might have sunken otherwise. It made your shared moans high pitched, and he followed you, pulling you into his arms like it was alone you who was keeping him afloat.

The splashing of the water softened as he drew out your highs for as long as possible with slower thrusts. Eventually, he halted completely. He cradled your face in his hands and when you finally opened your tired eyes, he was watching you with full adoration. His charming smile caused an eruption of butterflies in your stomach. This was only the beginning of your time together, yet you could barely fathom your fortune. And as it seemed, this time fate was on your side.

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leossmoonn · 3 years

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Play Ground Days

masterlist

pairing - carl gallagher x fem!reader

type - fluff

note / request - “ughh FINALLY someone that writes good imagines abt carl from shameless! could you write one where you two grew up together and you've always been close n stuff and then at some point he realizes he loves the reader and he talks to ian and lip (maybe mickey too bc i love him) about it? (fem!reader btw if that's cool) thanks babe xx” thanks for inspo on the beginning @poesflygirl <3 ,,, carl and you are 16 also pls dont come for me ive only played COD 2 times last year so lmao i dont remember a lot about it, enjoy!

summary - carl has liked you since you two were young, and seeks advice from his brothers and mickey

warnings - strong language, drugs and alcohol, little talk about bad body imagine

————

*gif isnt mine*

“I fucking knew it!” Lip exclaimed.

“Why are you telling us? We’ve known this.” Ian commented, smirking at his little brother.

“How the hell—” Carl started.

“You’re not exactly great at hiding your crush on her,” Mickey chuckled.

Carl’s eyes were the size of saucers. “You knew?”

“Of course I did. I’m not fucking Helen Keller,” Mickey rolled his eyes.

Carl groaned and ran his hands roughly through his hair. “I can’t believe this. Well, secret’s out, I guess. What do I do?”

“Just go tell her you like her. It’s not like she’s going to turn you down.” Lip shrugged, putting his cigarette to his lips.

“Lip!” Ian hit his brother’s shoulder.

“What?” Lip asked.

“You weren’t supposed to say that, dumbass,” Mickey said.

“What does that mean?” Carl asked, looking in-between his brother’s and Mickey.

Lip sighed. “Ah, shit, right. I’ve already said too much.”

————

4 hours earlier: 2:00 PM

“Hey, shit head!” She called out, throwing rocks against the window.

Carl got up from his bed, shocked but happy to see her. He opened his window, leaning against the frame.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked.

She threw the rocks to the ground. “Escaping from my druggie dad, duh. What’re you doing?”

“Nothing,” Carl shrugged.

She did her signature smirk that always made Carl’s heart flutter. “Wanna go and stuff our faces at Patsy’s Pies?”

Carl’s eyes lit up at the mention of fatty, greasy food. “Hell yeah. I’ll come down.”

She nodded, going to the front of their house. Carl ran down the stairs, putting on his shoes and opening the door to find her on the steps.

“Hey, why didn’t you just come into the house?” Carl asked, shutting the door behind him.

“Putting damage on your window seemed more fun. Oh, hey! Do you have an extra bed I can sleep in tonight?” She asked.

Carl nodded. “Yeah, of course. Your dad is that bad, huh?”

“Yep, he relapsed. Super fun,” she laughed sarcastically.

“I’m sorry. That shit sucks,” Carl said.

She shrugged. “Yeah, well, it’s life. Anyways, ready to go?”

Carl nodded. They got into her car, the girl starting it and driving fast to the dinner. As she was driving, humming to the songs on the radio, Carl stared at her. She was absolutely gorgeous.

Her name was Y/n L/n. Carl’s oldest and only real friend. They had grown up together, Y/n living only a few houses away from him. They had met in detention in 1st grade and had been close ever since.

“What’re you staring at?” Y/n asked, glancing over to him.

Carl blushed. “Nothing.”

“Alright,” Y/n sang.

Carl had often been caught staring at her. It was something he usually did from time to time, but now it was more often. He couldn’t help it. There was something about her. Maybe flawless her skin was, how pretty and bright her smile and eyes were, the way she would make him feel secure and loved, something he had never got from anyone consitently.

He never really knew why he thought those things about her. People had told him that he probably had a crush on her, but he knew that wasn’t right. He had crushes on girls before and the things he was feeling for Y/n were a lot different than what he had felt for his past girlfriends. He figured it was just that she was his closest friend and he happened to be a horny teenager, so naturally, he just thought those things about her. But oh, how wrong he actually was.

Y/n parked her car at Patsy’s Pies. They walked into the diner, seeing Fiona at the register.

“Hey, Fi,” Y/n smiled.

“Hey, Y/n, Carl! Long time, no see. How are ya?” Fiona asked.

“Good, good,” Y/n smiled.

“Good,” Carl said.

“Great! Well, get yourself seated and someone will be right with you,” she smiled.

Y/n and walked off to a small booth and sat down. They picked up the menus that were already on the table.

“You gonna get your usual?” Y/n asked.

Carl shrugged. “Maybe. Should I change it up?”

“Yes. The double bacon cheeseburger looks good,” Y/n said.

“Are you getting that?” Carl asked.

“Maybe. I’ll probably get a salad or something. Gotta watch those calories, you know?” She half-joked, putting a hand on her stomach.

“I think you look good. You don’t need to worry,” Carl smiled.

Y/n’s eyes widened. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Carl nodded.

Y/n looked back at the menu, hiding her embarrassment.

Carl complimenting her was something that was rare, but did happen. Y/n never remembered Carl as a romantic type of guy, but it seems that he had developed those traits from having a few girlfriends. She liked that, actually. She liked him complimenting her, staring at her for minutes at a time, the way his ears would turn red when she teased him. She liked all of that.

Y/n would never admit it to anyone, but she had a crush on Carl. She had a crush on him since their freshman year of high school. Well, in reality, she probably has always had one, but the first time she really realised she liked him was in biology when he got in trouble in one of the labs. She remembered when the teacher was yelling at him and he looked at her, smiling at her mischievously and winking at her. That wink had her heart racing and mind go foggy. From then on, she had liked him as more than a friend. Yet, she never said anything because well, as cliche as it was, she was afraid of ruining their friendship. He was really the only one who got her and who never abandoned her. She couldn’t lose him, so she just kept her feelings and gestures to him as friendly as she could.

“Hi, I’m Carly and I’ll be serving you today. What can I get you today?” The waitress asked.

“Hi, can I get the philly cheesesteak with a medium coke and fries,” Carl ordered.

Carly nodded and wrote his order down, turning to Y/n.

“Um, I’ll get the bacon cheeseburger with a small sprite and fries. Thanks,” Y/n ordered.

Carly took their menus. “Great. I’ll have your drinks out soon.”

Y/n and Carl smiled at the waitress as she walked away.

“Hey, so I thought your dad was in rehab,” Carl said.

Y/n sighed. “He was, but I guess his girlfriend got him drunk, then convinced him to do some lines. God, I can’t believe he's even with her still.”

Carl frowned. “What about your mom? Where’s she?”

“She’s going to nursing school right now. She’s the only one responsible in this family, yet she never calls or anything,” she scoffed.

“You’re really responsible,” Carl said.

Y/n smiled. “Thanks, C. You are, too.”

Carl laughed, “Me? I sold drugs on the streets once.”

She giggled. “True. But you’ve really shaped. I'm proud.”

Carl smiled sheepishly. “Thanks.”

Y/n hummed a ‘you’re welcome’. Carly came back with their food quickly and they dug in. Carl and Y/n spent their time talking and eating, spending about 2 hours there as they just kept talking.

“Are you two finished?” Carly asked, gesturing to their empty plates.

“Yeah,” Carl nodded.

“Great. Here’s your bill, pay whenever you’re ready,” Carly smiled and took their dirty dishes.

“Ready to go?” Y/n asked.

Carl nodded and got out his wallet that he had in his shorts. Meanwhile, Y/n also got out her wallet. They both looked up at each other, awkward expressions on their faces.

“Oh, I was gonna pay,” Carl said. “No, no, my treat. I invited you here,” Y/n said.

“You sure?” Carl asked.

She smiled and put a hand on his arm. “Yes, I am, Carl.”

Butterflies irrupted in Carl’s stomach as she touched him. He nodded slowly, putting his credit card away. Y/n and him walked up to the register and paid for their meal. They then went back to Y/n car.

“What do you wanna do now?” Y/n asked.

“Wanna play COD Black Ops 3?” Carl asked.

“Yes!” Y/n smiled. She drove them back to his house, parking haphazardly on the street.

The two hurried into the house, grabbing a seat on the couch. Carl got the controllers, turning onto the playstation. Y/n logged onto her account, selecting the gun she wanted to use. Carl then started the game.

“Where are you?” Y/n squinted her eyes at the screen.

“Right behind you,” Carl smirked.

Y/n turned around, gasping as Carl shot her.

“Fuck you!” Y/n exclaimed.

“Little rusty, huh?” Carl teased. She rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna kill you next round.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Carl said.

“Winner gets to pick what’s for dinner,” Y/n said.

“Deal,” Carl nodded.

The pair played for a couple hours, the game ending with Y/n getting the last kill.

“Good game,” she smirked, setting the controller down.

“I forgot how good you were at this,” Carl frowned. Y/n giggled, “I forgot how bad you were.”

Carl rolled his eyes with a smile. “Alright, where do you want to eat?”

“Hm… Noodles n Company?” She suggested.

“Sure,” Carl nodded.

“Alright, I’m gonna use the bathroom and then order. Text me what you want,” Y/n said, getting up from the couch.

Carl nodded and watched her go upstairs to use the bathroom. Then that’s when Lip, Ian, and Mickey all came into the house.

“Hey, guys,” Carl said.

“Hey,” Ian smiled.

“Is Y/n here? We saw her car out front,” Lip said. “Yeah, she is,” Carl nodded.

“Asked her out yet?” Lip smirked. Carl’s face turned red. “Wh-What?”

“Oh, you’re not in love with her then?” Ian furrowed his brows.

“I… am I?” Carl asked.

Ian chuckled. “Yeah. You always are always happy around her, blush whenever she teases you.”

“And you’re always staring at her,” Lip added.

“That doesn’t mean I like her,” Carl said.

“Do feel dizzy and nauseous when she touches you? Does your heart race when she gets close? Do you see yourself kissing her? Would you do anything for her?” Ian asked.

Carl furrowed his brows. They were right, all those things did happen when she was near. She was his best friend. He also sometimes think about kissing her and being with her in a romantic way. And yeah, of course he would do anything for her. Maybe… Maybe he did love her.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered. “I… I guess I am in love with her.”

And that, ladies and gents, is where we left off. Lip, Ian, and Mickey teased Carl until Carl begged them for real help.

“What do you mean?” Carl asked anxiously.

Lip looked to Ian and Mickey for help on what to say. Little did Carl know, Y/n actually did admit her crush to someone. And that someone, or someones, were Lip, Ian, and Mickey.

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Mickey said.

“Did she say something to you?” Carl asked. “No,” Ian shook his head. “Like Mick said, don’t worry.”

“I… fine. Well, what do I do then?” Carl asked in slight distress.

“Give her some flowers and chocolate. Girls love that shit,” Lip suggested.

“Alright,” Carl nodded. “I don’t know what her favourite flowers are, though.”

“Just get her roses. That’s really romantic,” Lip said.

Carl smiled, “Alright. Awesome. Thanks, guys.”

He decided to get the flowers early morning tomorrow before Y/n woke up.

————

Carl sneaked back into the house, hoping not to wake Y/n up. As he walked into the kitchen, he was shocked to see her at the table drinking coffee.

“Hey, Carl!” Y/n smiled.

Carl’s eyes were blown wide. “I.. uh…”

“Who are those for?” Y/n got up and pointed to the flowers and chocolate in his hand.

“Um… you?” Carl said. Y/n smiled. “Me? What did I do to deserve this?”

Carl knew that he couldn’t make up an excuse. He was horrible at lying to her. So, he decided to just have his confession here.

“I.. I’m in love with you,” Carl said. Y/n’s jaw dropped and she froze. “Wha-What?”

“My brothers and Mickey helped me realise I was yesterday when you were ordering dinner. They told me I should get you flowers and stuff so I did. I hope you like roses,” Carl explained and held up the gifts.

Y/n’s lips upturned in a wide smile. “How long have you liked me?”

“Honestly, probably since we were little,” Carl shrugged sheepishly.

Y/n giggled. “Me, too.”

“Really?” Carl smiled.

Y/n waked up to him and took the gifts, setting them on the kitchen counter. She went up to him and put her arms around his neck.

“Yep. I always have,” she grinned.

“Oh, sick!” Carl exclaimed. “Oh wait.”

“What?” Y/n asked in confusion.

“That’s what they meant!” Carl exclaimed in realisation.

“Who? What?” “Oh, Lip, Mickey, and Ian kind of told me yesterday when I asked for help,” Carl explained.

Y/n’s eyes widened and she turned to the stairs, glaring. “Mickey, Lip, Ian! You better fucking run!”

————

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#carl gallagher x reader #carl gallagher #carl gallagher imagine #carl gallagher imagines #carl gallagher fluff #carl gallagher x reader fluff #shameless #shameless imagine #lip gallagher #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich

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shotorozu · 3 years

Note

hellooo i saw this tiktok video and was wondering if you can please do this for shoto kaminari and bakugou

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSJkeaV68/

‘i got a big fat 😳🎂’

character(s) : todoroki shouto, kaminari denki, bakugou katsuki (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

headcanon type : fluff, crack (x reader)

note(s) : LMAO ANON YOU LITERALLY READ MY MIND?? I WAS GOING TO DO THIS EVEN WITHOUT A REQUEST— great to know that i have the same thinking process with you 🤩

»»————-　♡　————-««

todoroki shouto

noooow

you know shouto’s always willing to do tiktok challenges with you— he might be clueless when it came to social media (because of end**vor)

but! he’s gotten used to your antics most of them anyway

but he’s sort of confused when you show him a video of a couple uh.. walking?? he can’t tell what they’re doing exactly

“what,, are they doing?” is what he asked when you showed him the tiktok, brows furrowed in confusion

“they’re uh.. kekeing how do i explain it— nevermind that! just do whatever i do, shouto!”

he’s still confused as hell 🧍‍♀️ but he decides to not ask any questions, and push through with it, just by seeing the excited look on your face

and the audio 😳 i mean, it’s not,, wrong. to him, your cake is some fine ass cake :))

you lead him out of the frame, and you hit play— not giving shouto time to ‘rehearse’

it might seem to be that shouto has no reaction to the audio, but if you look closely— the corners of his lips are tugged upwards slightly

and he follows your every command, when you gesture for him to copy you.

now, shouto’s got the dance steps down, but man’s terribly stiff 😭 he also kept looking at you (specifically your ass) to see if he was doing things correctly

afterwards, the two of you take a look at the video. and, he asks you if the tiktok needs to be filmed once again by your silent reaction

but he’s appalled when he sees you literally driven to tears from pure, unfiltered laughter

you assure him with a kiss that you’re fine, and insist that the tiktok is fine as you upload it— and you cuddle with shouto for the rest of the day, letting the tiktok marinate

the next day comes by, and tiktok BLEW UP. like.. blew up, really. they should be honored that they’ve witnessed shouto strut to nicki minaj

the comments being well, absolutely hilarious. you could read through the comments again and again, and not be bored

“mann your boyfriend 😭 he’s staring too hard” “YUHH GET IT, I GUESS” “go hot couple go ‼️”

needless to say, he didn’t hear the end of the conversation when bakugou found out about the tiktok

kaminari denki

if denki had a list of tiktok challenges he desperately wanted to do at some point in his life,

this would be in the top 3, for sure

so, luck seemed to be on his side when you approached him first— wanting to rope him in on another tiktok you wanted to do with him

hopefully one that doesn’t center him as the poor unfortunate victim

“you wanna do another tiktok?” he beams when you nod, and when you show him what the prank is— he’s excited!!

you can clearly tell that it didn’t take that much convincing

the blond’s also thankful that it’s not another tiktok that needs him to ask bakugou if he can say pegasus but without the pega 💀

“alright! tell me when we can do it,”

“right now.”

so here he is, standing beside you, as you set up your phone— absolutely confident on what he’s going to do

the tiktok starts running, and denki might’ve underestimated his eagerness, when the camera captures his eager expression 💀

there was no jumpscare warning

and you didn’t even have to say ‘c’mon‼️’ for him to follow your movements. as soon as you turned your back, he started moving along with you, and the music.

he was watching your movements, and he tried copying them to the best of his sloppy, hyper and exaggerated abilities

denki was so excited about being in the tiktok, to the point he literally crashed behind you— making the both of you tumble to the floor, laughing

and the tiktok’s results are pretty much unknown to him— minus the fact that you laughed HARDER when you re-watched the tiktok

“can i see?” he asks eagerly, but you swiftly reject— shoving his head away from your screen with a hand.

he pouts when you say “the results are a surprise!” a bummer, but he chooses to trust you, and the rest of the day is spent on the floor in pure enjoyment

you upload the tiktok and slowly but surely, it attracts people’s attention

because of denki’s eagerness— he,, did a fantastic job with the walk! you can even say that he did better than you, minus the not so graceful fall

even the comments agree with you “MAN HIS CAKE IS THANGING‼️” “he did awfully well omg 💀” “oh to have this relationship’s energy 😔 when can i find a dude like that?”

and when denki finally sees the tiktok’s results, he’s left in tears from laughing— reduced into wheezes

DANK-i : BABE WHDJWKDKE THE TIKTOK YOU JUST POSTED— 😭💀💀 IM IN TEARS

safe to say, his wish has been fulfilled, and he can pass away at any given moment, satisfied.

bakugou katsuki

bakugou katsuki will never admit that he does enjoy doing tiktoks with you

plot twist : he enjoys it a lot more than he expects

but he knows where the draw the line, and the line was at the new tiktok you’ve showed to him

“no.”

“but—”

“fuck no— if you wanted to twerk infront of a camera, go ahead by all means, just don’t rope me into it.”

he does have his reasons. one— the bakusquad will make fun of him, and two— if the tiktok were to blow up,, he wouldn’t live it down.

and it always does— he knows that tiktoks do particularly well if he makes an appearance.

“if i didn’t post it, would you do it with me?”

but katsuki seemed to be fine with that. with a roll of the eyes, he sighs— looking at the tiktok once again. he gets up from his seat when the tiktok’s over

“let’s do this fucking thing.” he says with determination, even though no one was going to see the tiktok anyway or so he thinks

the tiktok’s video timer starts counting down, giving the both of you guys ample time to get into position

a smirk couldn’t be held back when you state that “i have a big phat 🎂” it’s anything but lies, and it would be the only time katsuki would smile on camera

you go forward, and you gesture for him to follow on beat— with a focused glare, katsuki starts strutting with you like no one’s business

it’s at a slow pace, and people would’ve guessed that he had a stick up his ass, sure— but damn‼️ he has those moves.

and before the video actually ends, he’s seen turning around with a glare— to see if the camera’s not filming it’s still running, and the camera captures his expression

“not bad.” he can’t help but smirk at the results, when you replay the video “i’m referring to the both of us. and, didn’t know you could move like that.”

“katsuki, your pace was like a grandfather’s—”

“shut the hell up!”

but little did katsuki know, when he wasn’t looking, you published the tiktok online, for everyone to view (basically, 3M people have seen him strut to nicki minaj)

the comments were having a blast “we’ll disregard the pace, buT DAMN‼️WHERE DID HE GET THOSE MOVES?” “LOL HIS FACE AT THE END WAS LIKE👹🤨” “y’all catch that at the beginning? woooh he’s lovesick.”

when you woke up the next morning— you can hear the boom of his quirk outside of your room, and you can practically hear his not so happy voice

fly high 😔🕊 you will be missed

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 3 years

Text

Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts

Part 18:

“That’s pretty much all I got from him,” You sighed, picking at your fingernails. “That he doesn’t want me to know because other people talk bad about him.”

“That’s...” Selene trailed off, seemingly just as lost for words as you were.

Your best friend was making tea for the both of you, bustling around her kitchen as you spoke. Truthfully, you were thankful she invited you over. You didn’t think you could process this information by yourself.

You’d been going back and forth over it all day, trying to decide whether or not it was your place to share what you knew with Selene. You wanted to keep sacred the trust Bakugou had in you, but on the other hand, the longer you thought about his words the more worried you became. Deliberating on it further wouldn’t help you, but maybe talking about it would?

Either way, you just decided to cut your losses. Maybe a stronger woman could’ve kept this too herself and been fine, but you simply weren’t her.

“Yeah. I know.” You responded, falling back against her couch, and slumping into the armrest. “I have no idea what to do with that. I mean, I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I can’t come up with any scenario that’s good.”

“Yeah. I can see that.” She nods, bringing your mug over to you.

“It’s just- I can only think of two reasons why that’d upset him so much, right?” You sip your tea. “One- he’s just being overly dramatic about it, but honestly, considering Bakugou’s reactions, that doesn’t seem to be the case. And two...”

You wrung your hands nervously. Selene only sat down next to you, a hand on your shoulder urging you to continue.

“Or h-he’s a bad guy. A really bad guy.” You spoke, suddenly sick to your stomach. “Like, a criminal or something. I mean, that’s the only way right? He said people talked about him, a lot, using his name, and then said I could look him up and find bad things, so that has to mean he’s like comitting crimes right? That he’s probably not good, and he’s got a record, because why else would anyone talk that badly about him, so much to the point where it’s synonymous with his name, if he didn’t do something horrific?”

You pulled your knees up to your chest, curling your arms protectively around them. Saying all of this out loud made you feel sick, but you truly couldn’t think of another explanation.

“Maybe...” Selene tried, but she seemed to be coming to your same conclusions as well. “Yeah. That’s- I can’t think of another reason either.”

“Yep.” You admitted defeatedly.

Silence fell over the room as you sipped from your mug. You tea was piping hot, nearly boiling, but it didn’t make you feel any warmer. You were cold, and you couldn’t stop your fingers from trembling.

You wanted to believe he was good, and you still sort of did from your personal interactions with Bakugou- But if looking up his name would show you a record of all his past actions, and if he was ashamed of them? Then how good could your soulmate really be?

It made you sick to think about. You’d wanted to save people and help them and do good your entire life- you didn’t think you’d be able to handle learning that your soulmate didn’t feel the same. That he hurt people instead.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Selene slug an arm around you, pulling you into her side. “Maybe- maybe it’s a misunderstanding, you know? Have you tried talking to him again about it?”

“No. Can’t.” You pull your phone from your back pocket, opening your messages to him. “Look what he sent me this morning.”

“He sent that at 5? In the morning?” Selene asks. “That’s.....”

“Suspicious.” You huffed, grabbing your phone from her and turning it off. “You don’t have to tell me. I know.”

“Y/n,” Selene lays her head on yours, squeezing you close to her. “I’m sorry. I-I know you were excited about him.”

“Yep. I was.” You wrap your arms tighter around yourself. “You know what’s even worse though?”

“What?”

“I-I think I meant it when I told him I’d like him anyway.” You confessed quietly. “Even if I did find out he was bad, I-I’m not sure I’d stop talking to him.”

Selene didn’t say anything, only pulling you even closer as you sniffled.

If thinking about Bakugou’s words made you feel sick, your own feelings made you downright nauseous. You truly didn’t think you’d be able to stop talking to him- you were already far too attached.

You couldn’t explain it either: why you already felt so, so, tied to him.

All you knew was you’d been waiting your entire life to be as happy as Bakugou made you. All you knew was that the sound of his voice made your heart jump and settle at the same time. All you knew is that your soul was finally being completed- and, selfishly, so, so, selfishly you weren’t sure you could ever give that up.

Selene leaned forward, grabbing her TV remote off the coffee table in front of you.

“Don’t. Please.” You sighed. “I love you, but I really don’t want to watch your trashy reality shows right now.”

“I’m not, I’m not, don’t worry,” She knocks her shoulders lightly into yours. “Just local news for background noise.”

You groaned.

“What?” She asked, looking at you a little strangely. “Did Bakugou give you a problem with the news now, too?”

“No, this- it’s not about him.” You rubbed at your eyes tiredly. “I still have that project remember? I usually watch the news for inspiration, so it just reminded me of it ‘sall.”

“Oh, okay. You want me to turn it off?”

“No, it’s fine- it’s already on.” You curled into yourself just a bit more, voice tired and depressed as you felt. “Might as well just watch the hero stuff just incase I suddenly, like, get divine inspiration or something.”

“Oh my- you make it sound like you’re doomed!” She nudged you playfully. “C’mon, Y/n we can watch it together. You never know, maybe both of our single brain cells can think of something.”

You just huffed a laugh, taking another sip of your tea and focusing on the TV.

On screen was another disaster scene, except this time in Jaku City. The city was decimated- buildings were turned sideways, smoke and fire were billowing, and loud explosions could be heard. There was another tar monster, but this time it was a lot larger than the one in Hosu. It was a black, twitching, fluid mass of poison that sucked up everything in it’s path, and seemed to be resistant to almost all attacks.

There were multiple heroes on the scene, but it was all the same top pros you’d been seeing for what felt like years now. You recognized Deku, Shoto, and Uravity all working together, attacking and regrouping in the fray. It didn’t seem like they were making any progress, though.

“Top pros have been working to stop the threat for hours now, but almost no progress has been made,” A reporter suddenly stepped into the frame, face visibly anxious. “They’ve been at it since early in the morning, but there has been virtually no change since they first infiltrated the hideout....”

You zoned out. You didn’t know who you were kidding, you couldn’t get anything done. Your brain just couldn’t seem to focus on anything but your soulmate.

—/—

Bakugou still hadn’t texted you, and it’d been three days. You’d check your phone almost constantly, hoping and praying for even a single buzz, but it never made a difference.

On the fourth day, you texted him.

You don’t know what made you send the last two texts. You couldn’t explain it, even to yourself- but something just felt wrong.

Bakugou hadn’t missed a single text from you since the very first day you contacted him. He might’ve been angry, and harsh, and volatile, but he was consistent. Even if he’d complain the entire time, he’d answer you, he always did. And if you didn’t contact him first, then he reached out to you. Either way, he was always around for you.

But not this time.

Days went by and your texts stayed unread. There was a pit in your stomach, one that was steadily growing by the hour, and by the end of that week you felt like you were gonna cry. Every second was spent worrying, you couldn’t focus, and your school work was suffering. Nothing seemed to make you feel better. You weren’t sure when you let him burrow so far into your heart, but he was there now, and there was no use denying it.

Your earlier questions about who he was, and whether or not he was good, seemed to fade entirely. You just wanted to hear his voice again. You just missed him. The ache you carried with you became a solid thing- sitting cold and heavy on top of a heart that had just learned how to be warm and weightless. You hurt, everywhere, and all you wanted was for him to be okay.

Your phone was never far away, in your hands or pocket every second of the day- even when you fell asleep. But it didn’t matter. You phone never rang no matter how much you willed it to.

-/---

lmao this is kinda short,, but the original draft was wAY too long so i had to split it ahaha

#mha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou soulmate au #bakugou soulmate textfic #bnha fic #mha fic

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poptod · 3 years

Note

Congrats for finishing ur exams! Hope u have time for relaxing in summer :) if u take ficreqs & this is topic ur comfortable writing for I'll have an ask: Kenny having/going thru some body image issues (it came to my mind when in season 2 he was going out w/Dylan he was fussing w/his shirt & being like is it too tight etc.)

Notes: thank u!! honestly its kinda nice to b able to project my own eating disorders on a fictional character lmao. thats twisted as fuck of me. warnings: eating disorders, homophobia, the whole rundown lmao. the reader in this is kind of dumb as fuck but well-informed so do with that what you will WC: 1.4k

It happened over the summer.

No one else noticed, but you did. He stopped wearing his big shirts, and the smaller ones now hung over his frame in wrinkles too big for his body. His jaw strengthened, his eyes steely, and his words remained sweet, if not awkward, as ever.

You've talked to him a couple times, but never for long, and his interactions with teenagers as popular as you are are limited and uncomfortable. On his part, he doesn't really know you personally––only as a sort of monarch to a high school. This image of you leaves him stuttering as you trap him against the lockers, surrounded by the silence of a vacant school.

"Wh - what are you –"

"Quiet," you say, glancing up to meet his frantic gaze.

The heat of his stomach moving with rough breaths warms your hands, sliding up his shirt to pull away the fabric and reveal the bare skin. His ribs are showing. From experience you know they didn't use to, but you can't deny the excitement that rushes through you at the sight of his thin waist unobstructed by clothing.

"How'd you lose weight?" You ask, withdrawing your hands from his midsection while keeping him stuck between lockers and you. You had never claimed to be anything but straightforward, almost violently so.

He shifts his weight on his feet, shoulders tensing till they reach his ears.

"Why do you care? You don't even know me," he says with a glare focused on the floor beside you.

"Your name is Khaleel but everyone calls you Kenny because people are dickbags, and you're always hanging out with that Larry kid. And I know for a fact you weren't this skinny," you say, tugging the belt of his loose pants to peer down.

"Don't," he grits out, and he writhes in your grasp, attempting to escape.

Seeing his discomfort, you withdraw your hand once more, and look him in the eye.

"I've seen things like this before," you say, boring into the soul behind his own eyes. "I've been this thing before. Tell me how you did it."

"I..." he pauses, searching your expression for any give in your request, before he gives up with a sigh. "I stopped eating meals for a week."

"Why?" You ask in a much softer tone than your previous, your fingers brushing over his unsteady hands.

"I hate how I look," he admits in a broken voice, eyes tinted red as tears form on the edges. "I'm sick of being unattractive and unwanted. I just wanted to be appealing to someone, for once."

"You're wanted," you say, beginning with a much-needed assurance. "High school is absolute ass and everything that happens in it has nearly no affect on your life. You're going to grow up, and you're going to find cities full of people who want to kiss you. The effects of purposeful starvation on your body and mind are not worth this temporary conformity to the American beauty standard."

Now he just looks confused. You sigh, exasperated by kids who don't seem to get your line of thinking pertaining to society and its expectations of adults and teenagers.

"This is such a small part of your life that can be so deeply enjoyed if you do it right. Don't ruin it with this," you say, and your own voice cracks, strained by the tension stuck in your throat. "You're never going to be skinny enough for this disease. Not even if you're ten pounds."

These words––they're all birthed by what you wish someone had told you. What would've stopped you from doing this to yourself.

The tears long building round his eyes fall at last, creating streams down his cheeks that he covers up by hiding his face in his hands. He falls into you, leaning his weight on your body, and hiding his face (which is still hidden in his hands) in the crook of your neck. Knuckles of his fingers dig into the sensitive skin there, but it is no hard task to ignore it.

You wrap your arms around the boy, holding him tight to you and running your fingers through his hair. Chest to chest, hips to hips, legs nearly stepping over one another. Muffled sobs wrack his weakened shoulders.

"I know," you whisper. It's all the sound you can manage. "It's alright. I know."

"I just wanna be wanted," he chokes out, shifting to hide himself deeper in your touch.

"You already are," you say in a hum, turning to kiss his temple.

"No," he says, shaking his head. "No, no, my parents don't even want me. No one does."

"What do you mean your parents don't want you?" You ask as a deep concern settles itself within you.

He won't pull away, and as much as you want to see his expressions, you know he needs your touch more than anything in this moment.

"I haven't seen them in weeks, they won't let me back into the house. I don't know what I did wrong. I don't..." he trails off as a new burst of tears shivers throughout his body, weakening his already frail limbs.

"They kicked you out?" You ask.

"... yeah," he says, sniffing.

His hands finally leave his tear-covered face, and he wraps them around you as tight and close as he can, shifting his head to the side to truly lie on your shoulder, with his nose nudging your neck. His hands cling to the back of your shirt, nails almost digging into your back as his tears soak your shoulder.

"Adults aren't infallible," you say, your own words now muffled as your chin rests on the crest of his head. "One day they'll realize their mistake, and they'll want you more than anything."

He goes quiet for a while, still sniffling, before he says in a trembling voice, "but I want to be desired now. I don't understand why no one wants me."

"I actually know for a fact that someone in the school very much wants you," you say without hesitation. You can't be the only one who sees how sweet this guy is.

"Really?" He sniffs and pulls away, but his hands linger on your waist. "Who?"

Your mind pulls a blank before it hits you like a trainwreck––it's you. You're the one that wants him. Maybe you are the only one to see him at all, and that realization leaves you stumped. Could you so plainly tell him? Would that be taking advantage of him in his state?

Whatever, you think, still staring blankly ahead as Kenny awaits your answer. This guy needs a pick-me-up.

"It's... me," you say in your most awkward voice since middle school. You cringe inwardly. It's like you're giving him bad news.

His mouth falls open, and he stares at you like you're the only thing to look at in the whole world.

"With..." he jabs himself in the chest with his own finger as he points to himself, ".. me?"

"That is what I just said, yes," you say, nodding.

He tries to stutter out a sentence, something along the lines of why, and you hardly want to hear what he has to say. None of it is going to be true. It's all muck about him not being worth it, and as he grows more frantic, you know you have to calm him down yourself.

Your eyes shut and you lean in blindly, having memorized his face from lunches spent staring at him from a table across the room. Lips mould to his and the words fizzle out, devolving into soft whines as the tail end of his sobbing dies out, suffocated by his first kiss.

He leans into you once more, resting his unsure hands gingerly upon your shoulders. You take his wrists, never parting from his lips as you pull him nearer, till his elbows rest on your shoulders and he holds you closer than before. When his hands tangle into your hair unprompted, you hum, fall, and pin him back against the lockers.

"Hey!"

Someone is shouting at you from down the hallway. You sigh and part from him, turning with a blasé look to meet one of the teachers.

"No making out in the hallway," she scolds but says nothing more, continuing to walk into the next room.

You turn back to Kenny and he's bright red, looking horrified with himself.

"Oh my God," he whispers out as his hands shake ever so slightly.

"It's alright," you murmur, too close to him to stand anything else. You kiss his forehead before you continue, "it's not a big deal. It's alright."

You pull away, looking him in the eye as you say, "come to my house?"

He hesitates.

"I'll make you something to eat. You don't have to eat a lot," you offer.

"... yeah," he says, and nods, looking up to meet your eye. "Yeah, that sounds nice."

#kenny al bahir x reader #kenny al bahir #rami malek #rami malek character #the war at home

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sombreboy · 4 years

Text

Misguidance↬Soft!Dom!PJM

▎ 18+ ▎ pairing: Hired dom!Jimin x Y/N ▎ genre: smut, some fluff ▎ word count: 6.4k ▎ warnings: soft!dom!jimin, bdsm-esque themes, spanking/cropping, bruising, fingering both holes at once lol, some edging, cursing, biting/marking, restraints, some cockwarming, unprotected sex, cum eating, Jimin might catch some feels for his client lmao

Banner by @ppersonna whom also shall be the victim of Jimin’s soft dom shenanigans. ♡ I spent way too long writing this please praise me.

♡

You arrange a meeting with a hired dom for the night, whom (mis)guides you through the pleasures of pain.

You stood in front of the building, checking the GPS on your phone an extra three times before you finally accepted the fact that this was, indeed, the right address. Gathering all the courage you could muster, you took a deep breath before stepping inside of the luxurious hotel, earning your fair share of looks from people who clearly were of higher status, probably wondering what the hell you were doing there. With a backpack in your hands.

You’d arranged a meeting with a hired dom for a variety of reasons. One, you were single. Two, the times where you weren’t, nobody had ever been able to, or dared to do the things you wanted done to you. Three, one night stands wouldn’t do. You needed somebody experienced, somebody who knew what they were doing, and that you could trust.

Not that you could say for sure that you’d be able to feel fully comfortable, but the chances were high.

You’d kept in contact with Park Jimin for a while, he was incredibly patient and open to any questions or worries on your end. He was very comforting, and easily made you feel at ease. So, that’s where you finally decided to hire him as your daddy dom for the night.

The previous day he’d sent you a list of what to bring; If you had any preferred toys, a lingerie of your own choice (even though he gave his own opinion; slutty.), and of course, just yourself. He’d take care of the rest.

You quickly made your way towards the room with the number you were informed of, hovering outside the door for probably a minute. But it was the longest minute of your life, your nerves getting to you as it felt almost impossible to raise your hand to knock.

Another deep breath, you’d be fine, you could do this, manifesting the courage within to finally bring your knuckles against the door with a light tap.

A few seconds later, the door opened to reveal the very man himself in the flesh. The blonde had a soft smile on his face, dressed simple with a black v-neck and matching black ripped jeans, stepping aside to give you enough space to join him in the room. As you did so, he closed the door behind you, the click of the lock causing you to yelp quietly, turning to the man, who still looked incredibly soft. Was he really the dom he claimed to be?

‘’Y/N.’’ His smile grew as he stepped closer, however with just enough space between the two of you to extend a hand in a greeting. Weird. But you took his offer nonetheless, returning the smile, ‘’Hi… uh, Jimin?’’

‘’That’s right…’’ He let your smaller hand linger between his fingers, eyes roaming down your figure for a mere moment before he continued, ‘’Care for something to drink while we discuss the rules?’’

‘’Uh, water would be great, thank you..’’

Jimin glanced at you over his shoulder as he headed over to the kitchen, a lopsided smile on his lips when he noticed how your doe eyes are looking around the room. Was this really a hotel room? It looked more like a penthouse, it was probably double-- or even triple the size of your own apartment. You quietly followed him, still in awe by your surroundings. He turns to hand you the simple glass of water, his fingers softly grazing yours as you accept it, immediately chugging it down with a nervous gulp.

‘’First time?’’ Jimin suddenly asked, causing you to almost choke on the last mouthful of water-- luckily you were able to get it down with a tight swallow before you embarrassed yourself.

‘’W-why? Does that matter…’’

‘’Well, yeah,’’ the blonde kept his reassuring smile on his lips, taking the glass from you to set it on the counter before he guides you towards the couch in the living room, urging you to sit down next to him, ‘’I’d like to be aware of your level of experience, so I know what to discuss with you before we begin… So, is this your first time?’’

‘’It’s my first time with a professional,’’ You admit, shifting your weight in your seat, ‘’I’ve tried before with previous partners, but…’’

‘’But?’’ Jimin pushed, urging you to continue.

‘’They were too… nice?’’

‘’So, what is it that you want? For me to be unkind?’’ ‘’No,’’ Your gaze fell on Jimin, who’s unwavering eyes were piercing through you, causing a shiver to run down your spine, ‘’No but... I want you to hurt me .. I mean-- really hurt me.’’ ‘’I can do that.’’

For just a split second, Jimin swore he could see your eyes glaze over with an unnamed emotion. Excitement, or something within that realm, perhaps? You quickly gathered yourself, however, keeping your hands clasped together in your lap.

‘’I assume you’ve got a pain kink?’’ Jimin bluntly asked, he was getting genuinely curious about you. It was obvious to him that you did, but he couldn’t help but wonder what you’d answer. You were probably one of his most interesting clients so far-- if not ever. You seemed so reserved, and yet here you were, with a hired dom, asking for him to hurt you.

When you replied with nothing but a nod, Jimin continued, ‘’Does pain actually feel good to you, or is it simply the concept of being hurt that gets you off?’

‘’I… both, I suppose?’’ You felt your face heat up from answering the question, feeling a bit embarrassed, however you continued with your response, ‘’If the pain is sufficient enough, it’s like…. My mind shuts off, and my skin feels like it’s electrified all over.’’

Jimin hummed… He wondered if he’d be able to push you past that point during tonight's session. He was sure of it.

‘’So, you would like for us to focus on impact play during our time together?’’ Jimin kept his attentive eyes on you, tilting his head slightly to the side in question. He already knew this from previous interactions with you through the hiring process, of course, but he wanted to have it verbally confirmed so that there would be no misunderstandings.

‘’Yeah..’’

‘’Another thing I’d like to bring up…’’ Jimin seemed a little... surprised, to say the least, but kept his professional mask on as he continued, ‘’Is sex something you’re expecting?’’

Your leg anxiously bounces underneath your clasped hands, lower lip clamped between your teeth, ‘’If… If it’s on the table.’’

‘’Are you sure?’’ Jimin questions you once more, just to make sure that you’re certain of what you want.

‘’Yes.’’ You nod, voice finally the most stable and confident it’s probably sounded since you got here.

‘’Okay, great!’’ Jimin smiles, leaning back into the couch comfortably, ‘’Then let’s go over do’s and don’ts before we begin, shall we?’’

He waits for your response, which simply once again was in the form of a nod.

‘’Spanking?’’ ‘’Yes.’’ ‘’Flogging?’’ You nod.

Jimin pauses for a second, his small smile reappearing, ‘’Restraints?’’

You hesitated, eyes flickering between Jimin’s before nodding.

‘’Okay,’’ The blonde replied, making a mental note of your answers, ‘’Any triggers?’’

Your eyebrows were drawn together, ‘’Huh?’’

‘’Like,’’ Jimin gestured with his hand in the air to find the right words for his elaboration, ‘’Is there anything I should avoid doing or saying that you’re not comfortable with?’’

You hummed, thinking for a moment before shaking your head, ‘’No.’’

Jimin mentally crooked an eyebrow at your answer, pursing his lips in thought, ‘’Are you sure?’’

‘’Yes.’’ You almost sighed out your reply, you didn’t want to admit it, but you were growing impatient, ‘’I’m sure.’’

‘’All right,’’ Jimin nods as he gets up from his seat, ‘’We’re almost done with the questions, be patient. Any pet names you’d prefer for me to call you?’’

‘’Uh…. Just, baby? I guess..’’ Your reply sounded more like a question, as if asking him for permission, to which Jimin gave an encouraging nod.

‘’Anything you’d like to call me other than my name? Sir? Daddy, perhaps?’’

‘’I’d rather.. Not talk that much,’’ You seemed less embarrassed by now, your voice growing more confident. Jimin nods once more, ‘’Of course, that’s okay.’’

‘’You mentioned that your previous partners were,’’ he quoted with his fingers in the air, ‘’too nice…. How far did you go with them?’’

‘’Just, spanking…. They always end up feeling too bad about hurting me, so it wouldn’t go much further than that.’’

Jimin tried to hide his growing curiosity behind his mask of professionalism, giving you another nod, ‘’One last thing,’’ he said as he gestured for you to get up from the couch and follow him towards the bedroom, to which you did without hesitation. He stood by the large bed, his grin growing before he spoke once more, ‘’Safeword?’’

‘’Apple.’’

‘Cute’ Jimin mused to himself, stretching his body as his eyes lingered on your smaller frame, ‘’Ready?’’

Finally.

‘’Get completely undressed, baby.’’ Jimin’s tone changed, the softness from earlier no longer existent. The blonde sat down at the foot of the bed, gesturing with his hand how he wanted you to lay down across his lap, ‘’And come.’’

You immediately obeyed his commands, embarrassment long gone after the tedious, but much appreciated, conversation had made you too impatient to care. You swiftly crawled up on the bed, bending over across his lap, giving him a full view of your, for now, unbruised ass.

‘’Pretty, baby,’’ Jimin cooed, smoothing the palm of his hand along with your spine, tracing the curve of your ass until he reaches the part where it meets your thighs, causing a shiver to run down your spine, ‘’Comfortable?’’

‘’Mhm.’’ You hum in response.

As a test, Jimin didn’t warn you before his palm landed on your ass with a light smack. It wasn’t hard at all, nothing compared to what he could, and most likely would, do. But he wanted to see your reaction, which was barely one at all; merely a jump in surprise rather than in pain.

‘’Continue?’’ He asked, a cheeky grin on his face.

‘’Yes.’’ You really, really, wanted more. The slow buildup in which he was going for was almost tortuous.

‘’Good girl,’’ Jimin murmured, surprised by how the petname earned a full body shudder from you, and he took full amusement in this fact. You were full of surprises, weren’t you?

‘’Remember to use the safeword if you can’t take it anymore, okay baby?’’ He reminded you, earning a small nod from you, which was just enough for him to urge him to continue.

And with that, his palm landed on the plump of your ass once more, this time hard enough to draw a gasp from you. But he didn’t stop, his hand striking the same spot over and over, the skin slowly turning into a red, beautiful shade underneath his ministrations.

His mouth was salivating at the gorgeous colour. He noticed how your breathing was quickening, getting heavier-- it was definitely affecting you, giving Jimin a reason to smirk at how easily he had you worked up. He stopped for a moment, noting how you almost whined at the loss, wiggling your ass to taunt him.

Jimin tugged your hair, pulling your head back to look at your face with a smirk evident on his own, ‘’Continue?’’

‘’Yes’’ you breathed out, eyes fluttering as they met his. You already started to look out of it, and it was rewarding to his eyes. He hadn’t even begun, and he had a feeling you’d let him continue until your ass was basically painted with bruises.

‘’Get comfortable on the bed for me, baby. Let’s take a short break.’’

And with that, he did mean a short break. You got off his lap to sit on the bed, watching him in confusion as he stood up to grab his bag, digging in it for the tools he needed for the next part, a small glance over his shoulder to check on you, ‘’Have you ever had a crop or a cane used on you?’’

You shook your head, curiosity and excitement evident in your eyes, which made Jimin’s smile widen as he approached you once more, with the two tools mentioned in his hand, ‘’Turn over for me, ass up. I want to make sure you can handle the sensation… It’s not the same as a hand.’’

Jimin relished in how much you seemed to trust him, scrambling to get on your knees on the bed, exposing your ass and already glistening cunt for him. He was basically a complete stranger to you, but here you were, giving yourself to him to take care of you. And oh, did he plan to.

He moved closer, his hand giving your ass a soft squeeze, drawing a small breath to push your lips. Jimin was testing you, even though you said it was okay to touch you-- even expected him to fuck you eventually, it almost felt like touching you was something forbidden. And that made it more intriguing. Jimin’s own breath was getting heavier, lower lip clamped between his teeth at the sight of your holes. It was a delicious sight, and he couldn’t wait for them to be spread open for him, bruised and completely blossomed with a reddish tone when he’s done with you.

Jimin opted to start off by using the crop, meaningly tapping it against the part where your ass meets your thighs, causing you to tense up just ever so slightly.

‘’This will sting.’’ He warned, but not giving you enough time to react before he swatted your ass. You nearly collapsed face down on the bed, forearms placed on the mattress, another gasp earned. But you could take it, you wanted more, wiggling your ass in the air for him as he watches the line of red form on the skin. Knowing you could handle it, he set down the crop to grasp the cane instead, ‘’And this will be a lot sharper than the previous one.’’

If you thought the crop hurt, then the cane would definitely, really hurt. But that’s exactly what you wanted. Jimin just wasn’t sure if you were really ready for that kind of pain, ‘’Ready?’’

You tensed up, hesitating to answer as you felt the hard material of the cane tap against your ass.

‘’We can stick with the crop if you’d like.’’ Jimin teased, letting the material smooth against the bruised part of your ass. You shook your head, ‘’I want to try.’’

‘’Are you certain?’’ He questioned, knowing you’d say yes, but he wanted confirmation.

You nod, positioning yourself more comfortably, adamant to take what Jimin had planned for you, body tensing up just a tad bit in preparation for the blow.

The cry that left your lips when the cane struck across your ass was a blessing to Jimin’s ears, your body jolting forward, clawing at the sheets. Your felt tears form in the corners of your eyes before tightly screwing them shut, pressing your cheek against the pillow underneath your head.

‘’Too much?’’ Jimin cooed, and your nod in response was enough for him to toss the cane aside, instead focusing on softly smooth his hands over your ass, soothing the stinging sensation on your bruised skin, ‘’You’re doing so well, baby, it’s okay..’’

‘’Y-you can still use the crop..’’ Your muffled voice surprised him, earning a chuckle from the gorgeous blonde,

‘’Yeah? You sure? Well, I guess.. The customer’s always right.’’ He smiles, ‘’Ready to continue, baby?’’

‘’C-could I have some water first?’’

‘’Certainly,’’ Jimin’s heart almost burst at the small request, ‘’Sit up.’’ He instructed as he headed to grab a water for you, handing it to your small, naked frame as he sat down next to you. He watched you drink, and Jimin couldn’t help but feel something stir in his stomach. But, why? He had no reason to feel anything. He’d done this countless times under much heavier circumstances… But never once, did he feel this. Maybe it was your innocence, yet devilish desires that intrigued him, but the purity surrounding you made him feel like he wanted to protect you from the bad in this world; not introduce you to new ones.

He shrugged his thoughts off, he was determined to give you everything you desired, and that’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.

When you were ready, you returned into position; thighs spread wide, ass up, ready once again for the crop to paint your beautiful skin in red.

‘’Such an obedient babygirl,’’ He praised, getting up and without a second to waste, the crop cut through the air with a whistle before it smacked across your ass once more, adding to the many lined bruises adorning your skin, ‘’Taking everything I give you so well.’’

You noticed that his dominant persona slowly grew, probably because he finally started to get a feel of what you could and couldn’t handle. You shuddered at the praise, he didn’t even need to touch you, but he decided to reward you with it anyway, letting his hand carefully smooth up the inside of your thigh up to your ass, letting his thumb gently brush over the delicate flesh between your plump cheeks.

He quickly withdrew his hand when you started to wiggle your hips, earning a needy whine from you at the loss of his touch. This was the first time he touched you like this, but it certainly wasn’t the last.

Jimin switched the crop into his other hand before he lashed at your skin again, this time at the back of your thighs, much harder and faster than previously, continuously whipping until your thighs were adorned with streaks of red.

The sounds you made were a swirling mix of sobs and grunts, unable to hold back your cries as your entire body was trembling with each impactful strike.

Jimin was honestly amazed by how well you took this, his own bulge straining against the fabrics of his pants. He wanted to force more noises and reactions out of you.. He wanted more of you, so much more. But there was time, he was patient. This night was all about you, after all.

‘’Reach back and spread yourself wide for me, baby.’’ He instructed, and you instantly obliged, feeling the embarrassment of exposing yourself further to his eyes as your hands tightly grasped the flesh of your cheeks to spread them, your soppy folds glistening in need for more.

He didn’t ask whether or not you were okay to continue, not wanting to break the immersion of the scene this time as he falls deeper into his role. He trusted you to use your safeword if needed from now on.

‘’If you’re a really, really good girl for me…’’ He paused for the mere intensity of the anticipation of his next words, ‘’I’ll let you cum tonight, play with you until you can’t take it anymore.’’

You obviously loved the sound of that, your body trembling and wiggling for him, causing his lips curl up into a smirk, ‘’I want you to count for me. Four spanks. Go on.’’

‘’One.’’ you breathed out as he this time opted to use his palm again, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing.

‘’T-two!’’ the blunt nails of your fingers dug into the skin of your ass, but managed to hold still nonetheless as the second spank striked.

‘’Three! A-ah fuck!’’ You cursed and hissed, the third strike landing directly on your wet cunt, catching you by surprise, body jolting forward at the impact, falling flat on your stomach as you broke the position you were told to stay still in. Tears started to trickle down your cheeks, but Jimin hadn’t heard you word out the safeword, so he didn’t break his cold, hard expression, maintaining his dominant persona.

‘’Ah, ah….’’ Jimin tutted, ‘’Back into position. You still owe me one more.’’

For a moment, Jimin almost believed that you’d use your safeword on him, maybe he’d pushed you too far. But when you eagerly moved back into position for him, hands quivering as they once more spread yourself for him, knowing exactly what you got yourself into.

The final strike was fast and punishing, not even giving you the chance to count before it landed on your sore skin, a content hum vibrating in Jimin’s chest.

‘’Good girl,’’ Jimin praised, gently soothing his palm over your abused ass, ‘’Take a moment to relax.’’, and as if on cue, your small frame collapsed on the mattress, letting the soft duvet soothe the stinging bruises when you rolled over to your back.

While giving you your well deserved break, Jimin dug through his bag for additional supplies, your curious eyes following his every move, squinting to see what he’d planned for you next.

Jimin came back to the bed, climbing up on it himself to sit on his knees as he instructed for you to get back into the original position he preferred you to be in, to which you didn’t waste any time in complying to his wishes. He placed a pillow underneath your head to ensure your comfort, your cheek pressing onto the soft duvet. He’d brought two pairs of handcuffs with him, and a bottle of lube that he placed on the bed by his knees as he got to work, cuffing your wrist and ankle together on one side, and once again on the other. He trailed his fingers down your spine before pushing down, forcing you to arch your back further for him.

‘’This okay?’’ Jimin tilted his head to glance down at you, referring to the cuffs mainly.

‘’Yeah,’’ You easily replied, the strain in your voice completely vanished by now. However, Jimin intended to get that right back.

‘’Good, want you to be as comfortable as possible for this next part.’’ Jimin smiled as he moved to sit behind you, gaze roaming over your bruised skin until it lands on your core, ‘’Gonna use my fingers now.’’ He whispered out the words just loud enough, watching your hole clench around nothing as he said so. His hand softly caressed the back of your thigh, slowly inching towards your middle before letting his thumb glide between your slick folds, ‘’Continue?’’

‘’Please,’’ You gasped, being deprived of such a simple sensation for this long was driving you mad, ‘’Continue, please.’’

Jimin’s thumb continuously teased your hole, spreading the wetness across your folds as he leaned in to place a soft kiss on the back of your thigh, drawing a gasp from you. Greedy for more reactions, he nipped at your skin with his teeth, testing the waters once more.

When your reactions were nothing but inviting, he bit down hard on your bruised skin, leaving in indent of his teeth on you as he pulled back to check on you, his finger now soaked from teasing you throughout.

You were practically crying, breath heavy as your cheek pressed against the pillow, tears soaking the cloth beneath you. Jimin considered whether he should clean this up, give you another break, but decides to leave it as is. You could use your safeword, and you could breathe, so Jimin ignored this continuous urge to treat you as if you were a fragile little flower.

Jimin slowly let the tip of his finger sink into your cunt without warning, just enough so that it was nail-length deep inside. From now on, there would be no breaks unless you told him so yourself.

Earning more whines from you, fighting the urge to push yourself against his fingers-- luckily, you didn’t have to fight it for long as you felt the sudden stretch of him sinking two digits inside of you without a word, his greed for more reactions growing.

And just as he expected, maybe even hoped; you were already squirming in your restraints, the chain of the cuffs clicking as it was straining against your attempts to move, barely able to hold yourself up, causing Jimin to tightly hold your hip with his free hand as he’s using his other to fuck his fingers into you without mercy, forcing more cries and whimpers to push through your lips.

‘’Tell me when you’re close.’’ He utters, his voice incredibly calm in contrast to the way his fingers move in and out of you, the wet squelching noises nearly causing him to groan himself.

Jimin kept his rhythmical pumping of his fingers going until he felt your body tensing up, high-pitched strained wails caught in your throat in between your barely coherent words, ‘’Please…g-gonna ...cum…’’

Jimin suddenly pulled away, leaving you a trembling mess, whining at the loss of his fingers. He brought his fingers close to his face to inspect your juices coating them before bringing them to his mouth, licking them completely clean as he allows a low moan to escape his throat. God, how badly he wanted to just bury his face into your cunt right this second and eat you out until you passed out on him. But for now, this would do, he mused as he gave his fingers one last suck, ensuring he didn’t waste a single drop.

‘’Not yet.’’ Jimin cooed at you, but he knew he wanted you to soon. But first, he wanted to play with you a little more-- you deserved it. He reached for the bottle of lube on the bed, squirting a generous amount on his fingers before coating your other hole. The cold sensation of the liquid makes you yelp, body jerking slightly. But you liked it… Wanted more.

Jimin still didn’t give in to the urges to ask you whether or not it was okay to continue. He knew you’d let him know if it was too much.

‘’Relax.’’ He murmured as he slowly pushed one finger in, easily done with the help of lubrication. You exhaled the breath you didn’t even know you were holding until he forced it out of you, one digit now knuckle deep in you. He kept it still for a moment, circling his finger inside to get you used to the sensation, ‘’You’re doing so well, baby.’’

The praise earned a whine from you, and he was fighting the smile twitching on his lips. He had to maintain his stoic expression for the sake of the play, but you were not making it easy for him.

Sliding his finger back out, he added a second one, the tight fit causing a strained groan to erupt from his throat as he made it fit, gradually forcing them inside until he was once more knuckle deep, ‘’So tight for me.’’

Your breaths were heavy, small whines continuously rolling off your lips as he finally started to move his fingers in and out of you, the lube serving to the squelching noises that gradually became louder the faster he was pumping his fingers into you.

And when you thought it couldn’t get better, it did-- Jimin using his free hand to tease at your cunt. But not for long, as you felt two more fingers entering your soppy hole, drawing out a long, low moan from you. Jimin exhaled deeply at the sight, watching as he had two fingers in each of your holes, alternating in digging as deep into you as he was physically able to.

Jimin leaned to the side to get a glance of your face, tears streaming down your cheeks with eyes tightly screwed shut. It was truly a sight, and the sounds you made only added to his own aching erection pathetically remaining untouched.

‘’Want to hear you, baby,’’ He breathes out, ‘’Don’t hold it in.’’

Your jaw fell slack when he increased the speed, slamming his fingers into you as he pleased, leaning in closer to bite and kiss at the bruised skin of your ass.

Your body tensed up once more at the familiar feeling, both holes tightening around Jimin’s fingers, your moans growing louder and more shameless everytime he keeps his steady rhythm of fucking his digits into both of your clenching holes, ‘’G-god….Gonna..c-cum..’’ You whined, muffling your moans into the pillow, drool staining the duvet.

‘’Good,’’ Jimin purrs, ‘’Cum for me, baby, you’ve done so well..’’

Jimin pulled his fingers out of your ass to solemnly focus on fucking his fingers into your cunt, curling his fingers to hurl you over the edge faster, and he can tell you’re on the edge by the way your hole is gripping around his fingers like a vice grip. With a few more punishing strokes with his curled fingers, your orgasm hits you like a wave of white pleasure, back arching as you choke on a silent cry. He almost cursed out loud at how tightly you were clenching around his digits, keeping them deep inside of you to feel every single throb of your insides, sharp eyes fixated on your core pulsating.

He gives you a moment to catch your breath when he pulls his fingers out, licking them clean once more as he crawls next to you, craning his neck to be able to look at your face. He reaches out to stroke your hair, trying to get your attention, ‘’Good job, baby… Think you can take more?’’

He knows he told himself he wasn’t going to ask, but he wanted to make sure that you even wanted the next part. It wasn’t required, but you yourself had mentioned that you expected it.

You glance up at Jimin, eyes glazed over and drool trickling from the corner of your lips down on the duvet. A small nod served as a reply along with your quiet ‘Please’.

‘’Gonna make me come too, hm?’’ Jimin’s voice was playful, yet stern. It was an odd mix, how he was able to shift between the two different modes was beyond your knowledge. But he made it work. You don’t respond, but he didn’t expect a reply either way, knowing that you’re all in for him. He swiftly grabs your waist to flip you over on your back, crawling up to position himself between your legs, piercing gaze staring directly at you. His attention on you in this sense made you feel small, but you loved it.

Jimin scuffed closer until he was comfortable, lifting your feet up to hook them over his shoulders, one hand firmly grasping your hip as the other gives his throbbing erection a few pumps, eyes never wavering from your face, a cheeky grin growing on his lips as the now familiar question slipped through his teeth, ‘’Continue?’’

You nod, and without hesitation, Jimin aligned himself with your soppy entrance and pushed his cock inside, a drawn out, low groan vibrating in his throat. You let out a muffled cry, automatically turning your head to the side to try to hide your face in the pillow.

‘’What a good girl,’’ Jimin praised, advancing his hips even further until he was buried to the hilt inside of you. He remained still for a moment, relishing in the wet, tight warmth squeezing his throbbing cock, hips pressed against your ass. It took great effort on Jimin’s end to keep himself from moving, to just let himself indulge in his primal instinct screaming at him to fuck you dumb right then and there.

But this wasn’t about him. It was about you.

‘’Baby,’’ Jimin softly said as his hands grasped your thighs, gently rubbing your skin before squeezing the flesh between his fingers, ‘’I need you to help me cum, okay?’’

‘’H-how..?’’ You question, but the way his blunt nails dug into your thighs caused your cunt to tightly clench around his length, drawing a low groan from him.

‘’Like that… Just like that… You’re so good to me.’’ Jimin groaned once more. You whimpered quietly, clenching around him again, this time on purpose.

‘’Keep going, baby..’’ Jimin encouraged, but this time he started to rock his hips back and forth, instead earning a few gasps from you, quickly turning into moans. He was honestly surprised by how every little sound you made felt like a punch in his gut that only made him harder, greedier to hear more.

A groan in frustration left Jimin as his hands moved down to your hips, letting your legs fall from his shoulder as he leaned down closer to you, ‘’You want to be good for me, don’t you?’’ Sweat formed on his temples as he was now fucking into you, hips snapping againt your ass with every thrust, ‘’Come on baby, keep squeezing me tight, please.’’

So you did, desperately clenching around his cock as your body jerks in his hold, every thrust more powerful than the last. The once again familiar pool of heat formed in your lower abdomen, the purposeful tightening around his cock now less in your control, but a mere result of another orgasm building up in you, your jaw hanging open in silent cries.

He notices, pleased with your reactions as he reaches down to grasp your chin between his thumb and index finger, ‘’Gonna cum too, baby? Again?’’ Another moan leaves his lips, the rhythm of his hips never wavering, ‘’Come on, I know you can do it. One more.’’

‘’Can’t…’’ you whined, screwing your eyes shut tightly, but Jimin could tell you were already close. He changed up the rhythm, instead grinding his hips in circles against you, prodding and teasing the sweet spot inside of you that’d have you cumming around his cock in no time, ‘’You can, baby,’’ His low grunt didn’t go unnoticed, ‘’Need you to cum for me.’’

Your body felt like it locked in place, muscles tensing up as your hands claw at the sheets, all while crying out a choked sob. The second time around your orgasm was stronger, amplified by Jimin’s cock, his groans, and his hands in a bruising grip on your hips. It felt like your eyes would roll to the back of your head if he didn’t keep you grounded with his own moans.

‘’F-fuck..! So good to me, gonna cum..’’ Jimin’s eyebrows were drawn together in focus, the layer of sweat glistening on his body as he works you through your orgasm, quickly chasing his own with the help of your tight warmth throbbing around his length. As he finally reached his peak, he swiftly pulled out, wrapping his fingers around his cock to give it a few firm strokes, cum gushing out to pool at your stomach.

Jimin clamped his lower lip between his teeth, lazily stroking his cock to ensure he’s given you every single drop he could offer.

Giving the two of you a short second to catch your breath, he remains seated on his knees between your legs, using two fingers to swipe up some of his come, ‘’Look what a mess.’’ He said with mischief in his tone, bringing his digits to your mouth to let you clean it up. Once you cleaned his fingers properly, he kept collecting more onto his fingers, feeding his come to you until your stomach was clean. A satisfied hum vibrated in Jimin’s chest, his soft smile slowly resurfacing.

‘’Thirsty?’’ He suddenly asks as he rubs your thighs soothingly. Your nod in reply was enough for him, sitting up with a small groan as you watch him head over towards the kitchen to grab the two of you a fresh bottled water. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t checking him out in his post-sex glory as his hips swayed walking away from you.

He quickly returns, crawling up in the bed next to you as he hands you the water, leaving his own on the nightstand for now.

‘’We should get you cleaned up.’’ Jimin suggested.

‘’Yeah,’’ You agreed, but put no effort into moving. Your body was spent.

‘’Maybe later,’’ Jimin snickered, in no hurry whatsoever for you to actually leave as he scuffed up to lean against the headboard, urging for you to do the same, ‘’Come.’’

You crawled up to him, a small groan from the soreness in your body. But eventually, you made it up to settle in his embrace, his arms wrapping around you in a gentle hug. His hand combed through your hair, causing you to look up at him with your doe eyes.

‘’You don’t have to stay, technically.’’ Jimin gave you a crooked smile. A strong urge to just lean in a little further, to press his lips against yours overtook him. But he didn’t.

You ponder for a moment, squeezing yourself against his body further in a hug. It was comforting, ‘’Maybe I want to?’’

‘’Perfect,’’ Jimin’s smile grew wider, and instead of giving in to his urge to kiss your lips, he settles for pressing a peck on your forehead instead, ‘’I don’t want you to leave.’’

And the two of you stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other until you fell asleep in his arms.

♡ ♡ ♡

The following morning you woke up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and roomservice pancakes, Jimin’s smile growing when he saw you slowly stroll over to the kitchen in a t-shirt and underwear. He was merely wearing a pair of sweats, looking awfully domestic for being… Well, for what he was really here to be.

‘’Breakfast?’’ He snickered, already seeing your attention focusing on the food placed on the table, ‘’Go on. All yours… Hm--’’ He hesitated, approaching to stand behind you as you sat down by the table, his hand gently stroking your hair, ‘’I actually have to go.. But, feel free to leave whenever you want.’’

Your eyes grew wider, already a mouthful of pancake stuffed into your mouth, only spurring his smile on to grow wider.

‘’Okay..uh..’’ You felt a little disappointed for some reason, wishing he could stay around for longer. Jimin leans down to press a kiss on your cheek, ‘’Will I see you again?’’

His question was blunt, and sounded innocent in a way-- but if it meant for another session...

‘’Yeah.’’ You responded almost too quickly, a small smile on your lips. ‘’Good.’’ Jimin’s eyes squinted before he turned on his heels to go get ready,

‘’I left my number on a note by the table.’’

#BTS smut #Jimin smut #Park Jimin smut #Jimin oneshot #Dom Jimin #Jimin x reader #Jimin x you #Jimin x y/n #Jimin scenario #Jimin imagine #Soft Dom Jimin #Jimin fanfic #Fic: Misguidance #sombreboy

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got-svt · 3 years

Text

the road not taken

summary: you live in la, he lives in seoul. you don’t think it’s ever going to work out, but he believes otherwise. especially when every year on the holidays, both of you rediscover that your hearts are still in chicago. aka the conversations that had you rethinking your relationship. pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: angst, friends with benefits (but only on the holidays lmao — implied sex, so no actual smut), some fluff at the end kinda word count: 2637

part of my tales from the lakes series inspired by taylor swift’s ‘tis the damn season

___

Truth be told, despite the fact that you were neighbors and your parents were quite close with his, you didn’t know much about Johnny in the years you spent growing up in the suburbs of Chicago. Sure, you caught glimpses of him from your bedroom practicing whatever song or dance routine he felt like he needed to improve on. More often than not, you’d find yourself laughing as he accidentally bumped into a shelf or slip and fall over on the floor. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t taken a peek out his window to watch you running lines, a script in you hand as you paced around the room, a smile creeping on his face as he watches you shake your head every time you forget a line. In a way, you both formed some sort of a relationship as you silently cheered the other on in whatever endeavor you put your minds to.

He wanted you to succeed just as much as you wanted him to succeed.

But when he moved to Korea to pursue a career as an idol, and you to LA for acting, there were little to no opportunities to actually begin a proper conversation.

It wasn’t until in December of 2017, when both of your parents decided to have a joint Christmas dinner in celebration of both their children coming home for the holidays for the first time in years. They thought it was time for you two to meet, having settled in your respective career paths. Maybe they also wanted to see how the two of you would get along, but they would never admit it even if you ask.

“I don’t think we’ve ever formally met.” He told you once he entered your parents’ house and offering a hand for you to shake, “I’m Johnny.”

“Yn.” You replied, taking his hand in yours, “And, trust me, I know exactly who you are.”

He raised an eyebrow at your statement as he let go of your hand, you shivered at the immediate loss of contact, your hand immediately growing colder at the absence of his.

“NCT?” You asked tentatively, testing the waters of what could possibly be an exciting new friendship.

“Ah yeah,” he sheepishly smiled, reaching a hand to scratch the back of his neck, “I guess there’s no use in pretending I don’t know who you are either.”

It was now your turn to raise an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “Hmmm?”

“I’ve seen pretty much every show you’ve ever been on.” Johnny clarified, but his tone suggested a bit of embarrassment on his part, “The other members don’t believe me when I tell them I practically grew up next to you.”

“I guess I could say the same.” You replied with a shrug, but you offered him a reassuring smile “Nobody really believes me when I tell them a Kpop star used to be my neighbor.”

“Perhaps we need better friends then.” He joked, but your gaze was fixated on the way the curve of his lips moved with each word that left his mouth. Johnny had always been attractive, whether it be through your bedroom window or your computer screen. But now here he stood, in front of you, bare faced in black jeans and a gray sweatshirt and somehow he had never looked more alluring.

Johnny noticed you watching him, but he never called you out on it. Maybe because he was too busy thinking about how soft your hand was when he shook it, imagining how it must feel running over his skin. Or how your hair seemed fall perfectly, framing your face in a way that was enticing him for reasons he couldn’t exactly figure out.

“Care for a drink?” You asked, breaking the brief period of tense silence that had fallen between the two of you, leading him to the makeshift bar your parents had near the kitchen.

He smirked, placing his hands inside the pockets of his jeans, “I thought you’d never ask.”

And maybe it was because of both of your parents deciding to turn in early and the three bottles of wine that was shared between the two of you that had you pinned against the wall of your childhood bedroom, quietly giggling into his lips as he went in for another kiss. He drunkenly mumbled words that you couldn’t quite understand, but he was telling you to keep quiet. You knew you should have stopped him the second planted his lips onto yours, and he knew he should’ve pulled away when you started taking off his shirt. Maybe then you wouldn’t have woken uncomfortably cuddled up on your twin-sized bed and sneaking him out of the house before your parents could wake up.

But both of you enjoyed the way your bodies seemed to be made just for the other too much to stop, and thus, a tradition of sorts was formed.

2018.

One particular night the following year had you driving around the city, Johnny had one hand on the steering wheel while the other held yours, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on the back of your hand. But it did everything but comfort you or himself. Since the previous year, you and Johnny grew much closer than either have you had anticipated. You thought it would all end after that first night or maybe when you flew back to LA, and him back to Seoul. But it had been seemingly impossible to move away from whatever relationship that began to form, as both of you sacrificed nights of well warranted sleep to call or text the other, soon enough both of you were in too deep to easily get out.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, taking note of how the streetlights perfectly illuminated his face. He had been unusually quiet and you were growing tired of the Christmas songs that had been blasting on every radio station for the past few hours.

“It’s nothing.” He sighed as he turned to an unfamiliar street, you knew better than to believe that it was truly nothing. But you also knew him well enough to not to push it.

“Where are we going then?”

Johnny replied with a shrug, continuing down the foreign path, he knew neither of you had been to this particular part of town but at that point he’d do anything to even remotely extend the time you spent together.

“And if we get lost?” You asked, your voice almost challenging him to turn back, but he didn’t give in.

“Then we get lost.” He replied without missing a single beat, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards to form a smile, “You know, the road not taken tend to be the most exciting.”

“Oh wow,” You let out a laugh, and Johnny feels his heart skip the slightest of beats, “and where did that immensely profound quote come from?”

“My brilliant mind.” He grinned, briefly turning to face you.

Johnny wished he had a camera to capture the absolute spectacle that was you. How you stared out the window, at the unfamiliar road, eyes alive with a certain curiosity. Your finger drawing little stars on the car window, pouting when it doesn’t quite look the way you wanted it to. It was at that moment he knew, you were all he wanted.

“What are we?” He asked, causing you to jump a little in your seat, Johnny had never brought up the nature of your relationship before.

“Friends?” You said, at an attempt to offer him an answer, but even you sounded unsure at your response which made Johnny grow hopeful.

“Yn, friends don’t kiss.” Johnny responded, grateful that he had to keep his eyes on the road. He didn’t need you seeing right through his pretend confidence, “They sure as hell don’t sleep together”

“Sure, they do.” You joked in an attempt to lighten the mood, maybe even change the topic to something—anything— else, “I do it all the time.”

“Well, acting is different.” He let out a scoff, annoyed at the thought of you not taking the conversation seriously, “You know what I meant.”

“I like where we are now. It’s easy.” You explained, wanting to make him understand where you were coming from, “Relationships are messy, given the industries we are in. There’s no pressure with this. With you and me.”

“But what if I wanted something more—”

“It’s never going to work.” You cut him off before he could even make his case, before he could ask you to be his.

“Now, why do you say that?” There was a slight tremble in his voice, and you had never heard him sound so nervous, scared even. The feeling of guilt slowly crept up your system, but you shook it away before it even had the chance to fully settle in.

“Time, distance, to begin with. Not to mention both of our very busy careers.”

“Then I guess this is good enough for me.”

For now, he added in his head, determined to make you see otherwise.

You smiled at him, glad to have the conversation over with and thinking that this would be the last time you’ll ever speak about it.

2019.

Johnny wanted to prove you wrong, show you that both of you could in fact make it work. You just needed to try. Which came with more calls and texts than normal as you got to know each other more than you already did, flowers sent to you on your birthday, several little gifts every now and then, and even slowly introducing you to the other members of NCT. His efforts did not go unnoticed, but it definitely left you more confused.

When both of you went home for the holidays that particular year, you knew something had changed. Johnny was more reserved than usual, and you would usually have to be the one to initiate sleeping together.

“Don’t you ever get tired of doing this?” He asked, turning to face you, as you lied side-by-side on his childhood bed.

“Doing what?” You asked, feigning confusion, preparing yourself for the inevitable conversation you had been dreading for the past few months.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” His voice was calm, but it chilled you to the core.

“What do you want me to say, Johnny?” You snapped, the tone in your voice letting him know how exasperated you were as you shut your eyes, “That I like you? That I want to be with you?”

“Don’t you?”

You let out a sigh, still keeping your eyes shut. You didn’t want to look at him, he’d know if you were lying. You didn’t know if you had it in you to lie. Instead, you focused on the sound of his breathing, steady and almost reassuring. You imagined the rise and fall of his bare chest, covered by the thick white blanket.

Johnny knew to drop the subject when you didn’t even make an attempt to answer his question, he probably didn’t want to know the answer anyways. But Johnny knew he loved you, and part of him knew you loved him back. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have let this little charade go on for as long as it did. You just needed time. And he was more than willing to give it to you.

“A year.”

Your eyes opened at his words, your head turned to face him, “What?”

“I’m giving you a year.”

You didn’t have to ask again. You knew exactly what he meant, what he wanted. He wanted an answer.

“Is this an ultimatum?”

He takes your hands in his, “It’s me letting you know that I’m serious about wanting to be with you.”

“Johnny—”

He kisses the side of your head before you could even finish your sentence, an action so tender that it caused you to forget every single coherent thought of protest.

“Hey, you don’t have to answer me now. Just think about it. Please?”

“I will.”

And with those two words, you stood and gathered your clothes off the floor and put them back on. He gave you a small nod as you turned to leave his room, going back into the freezing cold and leaving the warmest bed you had ever known.

2020.

Neither of you could come home to Chicago that year.

And so you both had to settle for a reunion through a screen. You wished that circumstances were different, but at the same time you were grateful that you didn’t have to give him an answer in person. Mainly because you didn’t have one.

When his face appeared on your computer screen, you couldn’t help the ache that crept up in your chest at the sight of him.

“Hey, yn.” He greeted with a smile.

You missed him.

After the exchange of pleasantries and a bit of small talk on both ends, Johnny wasted no time in getting to the purpose of your call, “I believe you owe me something.”

“Johnny—“

“Before you say anything, I want you to know that for me, it’s always been you. After all this time, even with all the distance between us.”

Johnny moved his face closer to the camera, as if that would somehow help his point come across more genuinely. You had to stop your hand from reaching out to try and wipe the single tear that fell on his cheek.

“This is the last time I’m going to ask.” He said, trying to keep his voice from faltering too much, “After this, I won’t try to push it anymore. But I want you to tell me the truth. Don’t you wish—“

“It’s not going to work.”

“We haven’t even tried, Yn.” It almost sounded like he was pleading, begging you to give him and the two of you a chance. He wasn’t there with you in person, but he didn’t have to be for you to feel the sincerity in his words.

“I’m scared.” You whispered, finally choosing to truly let him in for the very first time since you met, “What if it doesn’t work out? I want you in my life. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not going to.”

Johnny said it with such conviction, such confidence, that you felt like you had no choice but to believe him. Your eyes studied his face, looking for any sign of wariness or doubt. Only to find none. You could only find hopefulness, and maybe even love. With one final review of his features, you had made your decision.

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?” He asked, just to make sure, but he made no attempt in holding back the grin that slowly spread across his face. The sight of which made your heart flutter.

“We’ll try. I want to be with you.”

You let out a breath that you didn’t you had been holding as the final word left your lips. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, the floodgates in your eyes releasing the tears it had been holding onto for months now. Nervousness still coursed through your veins, but it was mixed with a different kind of emotion: excitement.

“You’re smiling, but you’re also crying. I’m not sure if I should be concerned.” Johnny joked, the crinkles in eyes becoming much more apparent as he stared at your face through the screen.

“I’m still scared,” You confessed, “but I’m excited.”

Johnny couldn’t help but chuckle at your confession, waiting for you to wipe your tears away before he continued speaking,

“Well, Yn, didn’t I tell you the road not taken would be the most exciting? Trust me, it’s looking really good now.”

#nct 127 #nct imagines #nct johnny #johnny x reader #johnny suh imagines #johnny suh angst #johnny suh fluff #johnny suh fanfic #johnny suh x reader #johnny suh scenarios #nct 127 imagines

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zalrb · 3 years

Text

OKAY. SINCE ANONS SEEM TO BE INTERESTED. HERE IS MY DAWSON’S CREEK 1X01 REVIEW.

@jayciethings IF YOU ARE INTERESTED.

1. I think the opening scene does a good job in establishing the central struggle of the season and it does it in 3 minutes: 1) things need to change and Joey wants them to 2) Dawson doesn’t see why anything has to change and doesn’t see what Joey is trying to say 3) burgeoning sexuality 4) Joey-Dawson friendship.

2. I also think the Joey-Dawson friendship is also established really well and it’s actually a time where dialogue and action work in tandem. They give a brief history/overview of their friendship: “you’ve been sleeping over since you were 7″ “i’ve seen you pick your nose, scratch your butt” while also showing them watch tv, playfight and ultimately end up sleeping in the same bed, like they did when they were 7.

3. I actually don’t find the dialogue as annoying right now.

4. I will forever be angry that they didn’t pay to have the original music with their scenes because Dawson’s Creek is not Dawson’s Creek without “I Don’t Wanna Wait”.

5. “He did it again, he grabbed my ass.” “Like you even have one.” Joshua’s delivery is perfect because it’s resigned and un-offended.

6. “I’m Jen.” “Oh right, the granddaughter from New York.” That actually isn’t clunky. It’s a good way to do exposition.

7. “You look different.” “Puberty.” LOL Joey Whitter sass.

8. Honestly, at least so far, Joey’s behaviour makes sense for a 15 year old girl who is in love with her best friend who doesn’t see her as a sexual being and then has to watch him salivate over The New Girl. No, that isn’t Jen’s fault but sometimes people on this site act like teenagers or adults for that matter don’t have messy and not-so-great emotions/reactions to things. Unless, apparently, they’re men who are rapists and serial killers, then the understanding is boundless.

9. It’s actually refreshing to hear “Mr. Leery” “Mrs. Leery” since teens in shows now just call adults by their first names, which I would NEVER do. I still can’t do that. If I had to address initiumseries’ dad it would be Mr...

10. I also think it’s funny that this dialogue is being made fun of but this kind of cadence and irony is the kind of thing shows go for now -- Riverdale tries to emulate this and I would argue Euphoria tries to do an edgier version of this. Like Nellie insulting Pacey, that kind of tone is what they’re trying to go for with Cheryl.

11. I’ll admit this is more fun than I thought it would be so far.

12. I LOVE WHAT’S EDGY FOR THE NINETIES. SHE IS IN A SUNDRESS. SETTLE DOWN.

13. “I have it on pretty good authority that mothers have excellent sex.” LOL Pacey, dick move.

14. Renting The Graduate, how on the nose.

15. THEIR CLOTHES ARE SO 90s.

16. The soundtrack pisses me off so much.

17. Oh Dawson. I knew so many self-important, I’m-so-deep-I-like-these-kinds-of-movies or -this-kind-of-music boys in high school. Like I find it so typical that he thinks his obsession with Spielberg would interest Jen.

18. Dawson taking Jen to his studio is like Klaus taking Caroline to sees his drawings.

19. Oh man, I remember being a kid and watching these teen shows with my cousin and seeing how Capeside High School was with everyone on a quad and throwing footballs and being like HIGH SCHOOL IS GOING TO BE LIKE THAT and my cousin just being like

20. I like how Dawson’s Creek is the whitest show and they still managed to have more Black extras than Gilmore Girls.

21. Dawson and Jen actually have a nice chemistry. But everyone is coming on super strong with Jen and she’s just kind of like, this seems normal.

22. The film teacher is a dick for no reason. I’ve had my fair share of dickish teachers but this is excessive right off the bat.

23. Lol poor Jen, she really is trying with Joey.

24. I like how a status of Joey’s class is the fact that her sister is engaged to a Black man *eye roll*

25. I don’t know of any school where teachers ate in the cafeteria with the students. In my school there were teachers who supervised the cafeteria but that’s it. Wow, I spent like no time in my high school cafeteria.

26. “I’m having a climax issue”

27. Tamara, Ms. Jacobs, you should be in jail.

28. I like how this school LOOKS like a school.

29. Ugh, a trans jokes. Ugh, there was so much of that in the 90s.

30. “Nothing has to change. We can talk about anything.” Honestly, from a screenwriting point of view, this is a solid pilot. I remember in a screenwriting class I took, we studied The Social Network and every 10 pages someone calls Zuckerberg either an asshole or a jerk or something in that vein as a way to reiterate a key part of the theme of the movie and while I don’t have the pilot script in front of me, DC does reiterate the theme of the season frequently without it being repetitive.

31. The dialogue isn’t as hyperbolic as I remember tbh. And I’m going to say it again, shows are aiming for this, even the one episode I saw of the Winx Saga, when they try to flirt about mansplaining, when she’s fighting with her mom about how she’s not a feminist, they’re trying for this. But DC manages to make it more natural and it’s because the Core 4 have a charm. Even if you hate Dawson.

32. Who is Dawson’s dad. Is he in something else?

33. No, I just think he looks like Dr. Cox.

34. Dawson’s rant about sex not being important is hilarious. Yes, Dawson, you’re just pursuing Jen out of intellectual and philosophical desire.

35. I like how Joey is supposed to be a tomboy just because she’s the only girl/woman in Capeside who doesn’t wear a sundress.

36. Poor Jen.

37. Joey is super dramatic, I get that, but I kind of love it because I’m going RELAX but the way I would to a teenager. Like CALM. DOWN. Also “all I do is understand” is something that we needed to see more of before that argument.

38. Dawson, you never ask anyone else any questions about themselves, lol.

39. “How can you say you were just renting a movie??” Pacey is such a fifteen year old and I do wish the show would just ... let him be one? And what I mean by that is Pacey is supposed to be the friend with the edge, the fact that he “pursues” Ms Jacobs is supposed to attest to that fact, it’s framed as taboo and yet they’re presented as being on equal footing, even the way her date moves to grab him out of his seat when the fact of the matter is, he’s a kid, and if the show didn’t actually make the Tamara/Pacey relationship a storyline and made it about another way teenagers have certain idealized perceptions of relationships or apply kid knowledge to adult situations which still makes them kids, it would’ve been interesting too.

40. Dawson is literally dressed in different shades of beige. If that doesn’t say everything you need to know about his character --- which is intentional. But like jfc man.

41. I love that they can’t say “masturbate” so she has to say “walk your dog” I LOVE THE NINETIES.

42. And you know what, after that question was asked, the sheer heartbreak on Joey’s face and the sadness in Dawson’s eyes is done really well.

43. LMAO SO ANGSTY. No one does angst like the 90s.

44. And legitimately, the ending of this pilot is great screenwriting because a change is noted, the beginning of the episode, Joey does end up staying the night, the end of the episode she leaves because they both realize it’s true that things are changing and yet Dawson answers her question about what time of day he masturbates and to who because they’re still Dawson and Joey. And that’s the way a pilot should be written.

OK. I’ve done it.

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glittrkink · 3 years

Note

*He sees you as he leaves the arena, his hockey bag hanging off his shoulder. You look incredible and he knows he'd get upset at himself tonight if he doesn't say anything* "Hey beautiful, I haven't seen you around here before. How's it going?"

- Reiner, Number 7 On the Varsity Blue Hockey Team

if you don’t want me to spam your dash with this character anon pls block the tag ‘maia loves hockey player reiner <3’

also do not mind me turning this into a whole ass fic i’ve been thinking about it all day and it makes me really happy ok mind your business

sorry to the mod who has to read all this nonsense you can skip straight to the end that’s where the dialogue continues lmao

my friends and i were looking for a way to spend our friday night that was outside of our usual plans of getting drunk and watching shitty rom coms. and after a tiring discussion of hitting up bars and clubs we ended up deciding do something more lowkey, and stop by the ice haus. one of my friends claimed to know that everyone on the hockey team was hot as fuck, and the rest of the group wanted to investigate and see if this was true...

we arrived pretty late into the game, but we were still able to grab seats in the first row of bleachers, giving us a good view of the ice. we missed the entire first period and came in right before the beginning of the second, just in time to watch the players file onto the ice. my entire friend group was gawking at the fit brunette with strands of his dark hair clinging to his forehead framing his emerald eyes. i had to admit he was pretty hot, but i had my eyes on someone else. the blonde with the most beautiful hazel eyes i have ever seen, concentrated into a scowl as he stood on the ice. i pointed him out to my friends and said “oh i know his dick is big” we all giggled like a bunch of school girls, catching the attention of some of his teammates who waved at us but he didn’t notice.

i wasted no time to look him up in the roster, quickly scanning the printed faces until i found his with his position, name, and number printed next to it- defenseman, reiner braun, #7. i spent the rest of the game eyeing him carefully, watching as he shoved his opponents into the wall of the rink. he was a beast when it came to boarding. god he was violent. he was doing everything you’re not supposed to do with your stick, slashing, spearing, hooking- you name it. he spent a lot of time in the penalty box, glaring at the people who played in front of him, his jaw tense from biting down on his mouth guard. “he looks like he beats the pussy up” my friend said to me, and i couldn’t help but laugh and think about how she was probably right... and how i would love to find out for sure... and in all this i couldn’t help but wonder if he had a sweet side to him. wondering if maybe he could be more gentle than he let on...

the game came to an eventful end- going into overtime, ending with none other than lucky #7 scoring the winning goal. when the cheering died down and the crowd started to disperse, my friends and i filed out of the ice haus. we stood in the parking lot chatting about the game and how everyone on the team, was in fact hot. we eventually split up and headed to our respective cars. and it wasn’t until i stopped to grab my keys out of my bag that i noticed someone was standing behind me, i turned around to see that it was none other than reiner braun. he was out of his gear and despite not wearing his pads i was shocked by how broad his shoulders were and how big his chest was. his blonde hair was short and shaggy, messy with sweat. needless to say- he was extremely sexy and i was swooning. and when he opened his mouth to speak i was almost too busy staring at his tits that i almost missed what he said. his voice was surprisingly smooth, not at all rough like i had imagined. his voice was sweet when it landed on my ear, and when he called me beautiful i looked over my shoulder to make sure he was talking to me. first of all i didn’t think he was single, i figured as hot as he was he probably had a girlfriend. and even if he didn’t- i didn’t think i was his type. when i realized he was talking to me it took me a second to respond. god i wish i wasn’t so awkward, i prayed he didn’t notice me nervously fumbling with my keys in my hand when i replied and said- “beautiful? well you’re not that bad looking yourself. at least when you’re not scowling on the ice. i’m doing pretty well i actually really enjoyed the game! how are you? you must be tired!”

#PLS THE SCREAM THAT CAME OUT OF MY MOUTH WHEN I SAW THIS IN MY INBOX THIS MORNING WAS UNHOLY #IT SOUNDED LIKE A DEMON LEFT MY BODY #SHIT WAS LIKE AN EXORCISM #MY FIRST CHARA ANON #AND ITS HOCKEY PLAYER REINER #MY PUSSY IS THROBBING BYEEEE #to whoever sent this to me i love you so much thank you for being my first and only chara anon #lemme give you a kith #i’ll even eat your ass if you want #i’ll leave it up to you #maia loves hockey player reiner <3 #also not me making myself awkward #this is fiction and i could have responded any way I wanted to why TF did i make myself awkward 💀

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lizacstuff · 3 years

Text

EPISODE 34 - Sen Çal Kapımı/Edser Asks

(asks under the read more)

Anonymous said: Thoughts on the episode? I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel which is the end of this current storyline. Very much looking forward to Eda & Serkan being reunited at which point I will delete episodes 30-34 from my memories. This episode to me had the same vibe as 32 which overall had the feeling of actual progression for Eda & Serkan. It has been said before but the amnesia storyline and Serkan falling in love with Eda again could have been much more enjoyable with better writing and no Selin or Deniz but this is the plot we were given. So hoping for another Edser filled episode that includes Serkan professing his love to Eda in front of everyone.

YES, LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL. Me too. I think we’re close to being rid of Selin and Deniz.

As for the episode, it was a LOT better than the last one and was probably the easiest episode to watch since 28, but it’s still part of this unenjoyable arc. I agree that it had a similar vibe to 32, which was one of the best of this stretch. The writers seemed to have fixed the Edser screen time issue that plagued the last episode. I always want more, but there was enough in this episode to where at least I didn’t feel cheated. The episode was a lot lighter and had more of a romcom feel than any since Serkan lost his memory and I welcomed that as well. There were a number of very enjoyable Edser scenes AND the icing was very little Selin.

That gave the episode room to breath, and room for Serkan and Eda to breath, which was much needed.

Their bickering, starting at the station was fun to watch. And while I was pretty skeptical about an episode centered on Serkan trying to get Eda to admit her engagement is fake, it lead to some fun scenes. Him taunting her in the office about love gave us back some of that old romantic comedy sexual tension. Engin’s couple game gave us a few good moments, but, wow, it was really, really poorly constructed. Seriously, Serkan, you have to find someone savvier to do this sort of work for you. Leyla would have been better, even Erdem would have done better! Probably. But the looks that Eda and Serkan were giving each other through that sequence gave me life. Squinting, peering one eye open, but always finding one another. Good stuff.

As for the boxing, I’m glad they waited to do that sequence for a time when she had some anger at him to deal with! It just wouldn’t have been the same if they’d been playfully sparring. I equally enjoyed her beating the shit out of him and how hot her climbing all over him was.

The catwalk was hot. Like really, super duper, 5 alarm fire, hot. I love that the editors made a 30 foot runway seem like it was 300 feet. And when they turned and she put her hand on his shoulder. I swooned. I don’t even care that it makes no sense to ask your architects to walk in a fashion show... though when one of your architects is as next level beautiful as Eda, you can see why they’d want her. (Sorry Selin, they probably saw you walk at the charity show too, but passed) Though why did they want Deniz? He’s not famous or attractive. It would have made more sense if they’d wanted the famous and handsome Serkan Bolat from the start. Though this way was more fun. GO MELO. BEST FRIEND EVER. Can we get her some sort of prize? She has her dada’s back, ALWAYS. Serkan and Eda are going to owe her for life.

Having Eda fall off the boat was... extra. Especially since I’m sure she will be fished out no worse for the wear right off the top. Is it too much to ask that Serkan accuses Selin of pushing her? Please!?!?!?

Anonymous said: is it bad that deniz is now annoying me more as a villian than selin.. granted, last ep selin had very little screentime (thank god) and when she was there was usually playing third wheel to edser.. but deniz is slowly getting worse and worse.. manipulating eda into continuing their fake game and now basically pulling the puppet strings with selin. as much as i hated how ceren told serkan about the fake engagement, i WAS rooting her on when she yelled at him about him taking advantage of eda.

Deniz needs to take a long walk off a short pier. Good gawd he’s really turned into a psycho, hasn’t he?

Look, I know Eda and Serkan are both awesome. They’re insanely good looking and charming and smart and successful, BUT, PEOPLE, even they are not worth losing your dignity and your sanity over. Balca, The Prince, Selin and Deniz... all gone crazy over them.

With Selin this episode, though, she sort of struck me as resigned to her fate. Like she’s still going through the motions of being a psycho stalker and playing the game, but deep down she knows she’s lost. She’s seen this movie before, she knows what it looks like when Serkan is falling in love with Eda, and she knows it’s happening again and that she doesn’t stand a chance. She’ll keep trying on the off chance Eda gets hit by a bus (or falls off a boat) and because she is seriously not right in the brain, but she’s lost all her swagger.

Think about all StalkerSelin has witnessed. In 30 she saw them having intense moments by the fire, in 31 she saw them having intense moments on the boat. She knows Serkan took off on her birthday to go help Eda with the project and they spent all day together. Then later that same day she was abandon by him before she could blow out her candles so that he could go save Eda, then she saw him sleep snuggling with Eda, all so they could come back and she could go spy on him planting terrariums with Eda and then he lies to her face and she watches him go to meet Eda for dinner. In this episode, Eda and Serkan were bickering about whether or not Serkan was staring at Eda and they didn’t stop when Selin entered the office and neither one even seemed to noticed her! Serkan is fixated on Eda and Selin knows it.

She was acting defeated before she got the photos. Now that she has them... what will she do? Crawl in hole and die? One can hope!

Anonymous said: just general thoughts: i was able to enjoy this episode way more than the previous ones and not cause there was miracle occurrence in the episode.. but because there was minimal selin lol. the selin fatigue is real!!! it also helps that while yes, serkan was teasing and trying to rile eda up, he wasn't using selin to do it this episode. for some reason with how it's going (and with neslihan's emoji spoilers for next ep) i do believe he's gonna remember at the end of next ep.

The Selin fatigue is real. They really ruined what could have been an interesting and good batch of episodes by inserting her unnecessarily into the plot. I really think amnesia was enough drama and enough of a stumbling block without this aggravating nonsense. Every second she is on screen is a chore to watch.

As for him remembering at the end of next episode, it’s possible. A lot of people are out there selling spoilers (which almost every source of spoilers has been so wrong so many times, that I’m not sure why anyone pays attention to any of them anymore) that he remembers by the end of the next ep.

Here’s the thing though, he has to tell Eda he loves her before he remembers. That’s what all of this has been leading to, him falling in love with her again from scratch, so as long as that happens, it’s plausible. But any theory that involves him getting his memories back and then going after her... doesn’t ring true to me. I mean with this batch of writers anything could happen, (because they have some issues) but if they do that, then I have no idea what this entire arc has been about.

Anonymous said: The mystery person has got to be Ferit, right? ever since that first episode back, they've been sure to throw in one scene each episode where he's delivering some sort of warning to Selin telling her to knock it off. Unless its a random new/returning character that we haven't seen as part of this arc yet.

I don’t know. He’s definitely a suspect, but here’s my thing with that theory, a) Ferit is not the sharpest tool in the shed b) Ferit is usually such a straight forward, honest character. I mean this is the guy that blurted out in episode 1 how happy he was that Serkan was engaged to such a beautiful woman because he considered him his rival for Selin. No filter.

It’s hard for me to believe he’s become this diabolical and sneaky and savvy. I feel like if he had the photos he’d just hand them to Serkan. But we’ll see.

He’s on my list of potentials, but I also wonder if someone hired a PI or someone to follow Selin, and on that list of suspects for me is Aydan, Babaanne, Alptekin and Serkan himself.

Anonymous said: one of my fav scenes from last ep was weirdly the girl talk scene between melo, eda, and ayfer. them talking about eda's feelings and encouraging her was much needed. and for once in the entire show, ayfer actually spoke some sense.. guess her little stint with alex woke up her eyes to love or something lmao. we need more scenes like that where character motivations are laid out plainly.

Ayfer made up for a LOT with that one scene. Wow, she actually wasn’t thinking selfishly and put Eda’s heart first and didn’t immediately vilify Serkan. A miracle!

It was a very good scene. And when I rank characters (in my head) from best to worst, she’s now above Piril and Ceren! Oh man, Ceren really out did herself with the way she framed Eda’s fake engagement to Serkan. I really don’t understand where her rage at Eda came from, but she better seek help soon if she wants any chance at redemption.

Also I know it’s terrible, but when Piril was upset about Engin potentially cheating... I LAUGHED out loud. I think I might have also yelled, “SUFFER BITCH!” I really can’t stand her and I loved seeing her miserable. After enabling Selin she deserves the pain.

Anonymous said: So I kind of felt bad for Serkan because of Eda’s strong reaction to him kissing her but at the same time, not. His out of the blue invitation to dinner and the kiss with no explanation was just never going to go over very well after his recent behavior. And of course she was going to think he got his memory back because in her mind it is the only explanation for him kissing her at this point. But at the same time it would have been really interesting to see how he reacted to her just pulling him in for another kiss. He clearly would have been totally into it and then who knows how the rest of the episode would have gone 🤷🏻‍♀️. They are stuck in a bad cycle, he overlooks her sensitivity to things due to not remembering their past and she is unable to overlook his insensitivity due to their past together. And the writers want to keep dragging this out so Eda & Serkan are constantly interrupted before they can talk stuff out.

They did a nice job of finally having Eda talk about what’s going on in her brain box. She wants her Serkan back just as he was before. Which is understandable, but she’s pinning all of her hopes on Serkan remembering and when he doesn’t she loses it.

Thank goodness Melo and Ayfer were there to gently talk some sense to her. It isn’t his fault that he doesn’t remember and he’s not doing it on purpose. And as Melo said he’s falling in love with her again, him walking in and kissing her was a big sign of that. I think we all worried he was going to say something jerkish to her after the kiss, but he didn’t. He was just honest that he didn’t remember, and I think slapping him was a little harsh. I mean she’s definitely not in the wrong here, he’s been a whole jackass at times, but she’s putting all her effort into getting him to remember, and she’s not succeeding, but she should maybe recognize when she’s making other headway with him. You know, like him arranging a dinner and walking up and kissing her. Maybe ride that wave and see where it goes!

As you said, if she’d kissed him again, things would have ended differently. Or if instead of getting angry she had said, “Okay, you kissed me but you still don’t remember, where do we go from here?” However, slapping him in that moment is very true to her character. We know she reacts emotionally, and her spontaneity and volatility are a part of her, and he loved all of her.

Anonymous said: I guess the writers pay attention to some details - seems the project that got cancelled in 32 was the same Serkan said was going badly in 28. But not other details - Leyla puts down the papers to say the project was cancelled without telling Serkan, knowing that he'd see them on his desk right away, and he does. So wouldn't he have noticed the envelope the day of the surprise dinner? He had plenty of opportunity. I thought this ep it would be revealed he saw the pics but he didn't seem to know.

I find it hella hard to believe that those photos sat on his desk all day and he didn’t open them (in 33) or that they hit his desk this episode after Eda handed them to him and he didn’t open them. So, yeah, either he’s seen them or this was a big writing fail. (Right now I’m thinking it was a big writing fail).

Though personally, at this point, I don’t want them to be found until after Serkan declares his love for Eda. Let him make the decision and then lets have the evidence that makes everything guilt free and easier to humiliate and punish S/D.

Anonymous said: Is Deniz trying to trick Eda into a real legal marriage? is that what is about to happen here? I can't decide if he is worse than Selin now. I'm going to need Ayfer to bring back her threat to expose everything.

They can be equally psycho and bad. I’m not sure overall he’s worse, yet, but he was definitely way worse this episode. How has Eda not noticed that he has interrupted intense moments between her and Serkan too many times to be helpful? That’s one thing I hate about this storyline is that they have had to dumb down both Eda and Serkan to make it work.

I have no idea what Deniz’s end game is. Is he going to trick her into marriage? But even so, what then? If she thinks it’s a fake ceremony, but it’s real, what does he think Eda is going to do? Does he really think she’ll think his lies and tricks are charming, and stay married to him?

Or does he think that if he gets Eda to the wedding day, and Serkan doesn’t make a move, Eda will just go “Okay, then I guess I might as well marry you for real.” Good grief. The guy is delusional.

I admit that I yelled, “FUCK YOU” multiple times during his scenes. This was a very vocal episode for me. I was so happy when Melo outmaneuvered him at the fashion show. Finally, someone was able to turn the tables on him.

Anonymous said: I am so tired of hearing on Twitter that the Eda is entirely to blame for Edser not being reunited yet. Nope, that does not rest entirely on Eda or Serkan’s shoulders. The writers have created a never ending cycle of the two of them hurting each other directly & indirectly and also being manipulated by their so called childhood friend/fiancés. This Serkan does not even believe in true love and has been manipulated to think Eda is an awful person. Eda has been watching the love of her life getting cozy with Selin and he has repeatedly told her that they do not have a future together not to mention Deniz’s manipulations as well. Regardless of what they are each feeling, they do not think the other person feels the same way. The fake engagement with Deniz is awful just like Serkan’s real engagement with Selin is but again not solely Eda’s fault. And saying that Eda needs to be the bigger person because she has her memories is not fair. She does not know if he will ever get them back and again he has repeatedly said they have no future together & he is with Selin. Eda walks into that office everyday to be close to him and she puts up with his crap comments and the bs from Selin in the hope that things turnaround. And for the boxing scene, yes, it would have been great if Eda has poured out her true feelings but not 100% sure the writers would have let Serkan reciprocate in that moment not to mention Deniz showed up 3 seconds later. The real people to blame are the writers that came up with this plot where no one wins.

Someone said Eda is entirely to blame for Edser not being reunited yet? Where are you hanging out on twitter? You need to find better people to follow who understand that Serkan HAS AMNESIA and is being manipulated. No need to play the blame game on this one, it’s a horrible situation for both of them.

Eda has been dealt a lousy hand, very lousy, she and Serkan are both victimes here trying to find their way out. That being say, she decided to go on the offensive and play a game, and in that game she’s made some tactical errors. Which is not laying blame it’s just saying she’s made some missteps.

Where she’s going wrong, as I said above, is that she is doing everything to get Serkan to remember, and she isn’t focused in on the fact that he’s falling back in love with her regardless of his memory. That’s pretty extraordinary!

I really think when she answered “Yes” to loving Deniz and wanting to marry him, that was one of those missteps. A big one. I’m not saying she should have bared her soul right then and there, but I think she probably would have been better off not answering the questions at all. Perhaps telling him that he can’t ask her that while he’s engaged to Selin. Turn it back on him, but saying she loves Deniz when they were having a very serious, raw moment... mistake. And that’s why the whole thing is going to go right up until the wedding day. Let’s hope one of them puts their stubbornness aside before she’s shackled to a psycho. (Don’t worry, they will).

#Sen Çal Kapımı #sen cal kapimi #edser #sckask #sck 1x34 #sck episode discussion #asklizac

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writing-of-a-british-bitch · 4 years

Text

Only Us

Fandom: 6 Underground

Specified gender: Female

Pairing: Four/Billy x reader

TW: blood, violence, swearing, One is still a bit of an ass

Genre: Angst and Fluff

Word Count:3.9K

Requests: CLOSED

Masterlist

A/N: Not the best thing I’ve written but I wanted to get something out for Ben’s birthday!!! I had no idea how to end this either, sorry. (Spot the Dear Evan Hansen reference lmao)

The sunset looked glorious from your kitchen window, your hands warmed by the cup of coffee in your hands. Scarlett rays framing your face in a tender glow. A small smile grew on your face at the tranquillity of the moment.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to find you?" The unrecognised voice made your body tense and your hand shot out, grabbing the gun always stored in your back pocket, and aimed it at the intruder.

"Who the fuck are you?" You asked lowly, placing your drink down beside you. The man raised his hands in surrender, showing that he was of no harm to you, but you never lowered your gun. You couldn't risk it.

"Listen, my name's one. And I'm kinda dead-" He began to explain but your eyes narrowed, and you stood up.

"Bullshit. What do you want from me?" You snapped. The stranger watched with cautious eyes and took a reluctant step forward. Your hand tightened on the gun, your finger never faltering off the trigger.

"I'll tell you, just put the gun down. I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise," He stated calmly. You don't know why, but something about him told you that he was telling the truth. So gradually, you lowered the gun, putting it on the table next to you, close enough that you could reach it if you needed it. He nodded at you, appreciating your trust in him. He approached you and you took a small step back, still eyeing him.

"So, start talking," You demanded, folding your arms over your chest.

"I understand you haven't had a job since you were discharged from the army," One said, choosing his words very meticulously, so not to freak you out or sounding like a stalker, though technically, he really was one "After you won your medal of honour. The second woman in history, I believe?"

"That's right," You confirmed anxiously, preferring not to think of your military days, eyes casting down.

"Well, I'm here to offer a job, if you're willing to take it. My team need another fighter," You scoffed, picking your drink back up and taking a sip.

"I don't do that shit anymore. Enough people have died because of me," One frowned, expecting a more positive response but thinking more of her response, it made more sense that she would reject his proposal. He had to try harder.

"We help save people. Anyone that dies doesn't die in vain," One lied. It was only a white lie. You'd get used to it after a few missions.

"I already gave you my answer," You shot back shortly, brushing past him to put your now empty cup in the sink. One gently grabbed your arm, causing you to turn around, an eyebrow raised.

"One mission. That's it. You might like it," One attempted to compromise and you rolled your eyes, starting to get annoyed with his constant pestering.

"You're not gonna stop bothering me until I agree, are you?"

"Not a chance," One shook his head, resisting to urge to smirk as he realised he was getting closer to you agreeing.

"Fine. One mission."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Your funeral was full of people. A lot of your family. Tons of your old military companions. Hell, your mom even brought your dog with her. When One told you that you had to fake your death, you nearly went back on your deal. You couldn't do that to your loved ones. But eventually, you accepted that it had to be done. It was one of the hardest things since you were discharged. Watching your family and friends crying over your empty casket. It probably would've made you tear up yourself if you hadn't spent time away fighting. But even One could see that it was hard for you to watch.

"C'mon, let's go meet the team," One said quietly, placing a hand on your shoulder. But it took you a few more seconds before you followed after him, looking at your family for the last time.

---------------------------------------------------------------------- "Alright ladies and gentlemen, are you ready to meet our new member?" One called as he stepped into the caravan on the abandoned airfield.

"Finally, I get to meet someone other than you dumbasses," Five commented. Three and Two were sat next to one another, running over a map for the next mission, and they barely looked up as One entered. Four and Seven were drinking beers, and Wally was lounging over the couch with his head in Four's lap. One gestured for you to follow him, and hesitantly, you did so, awkwardly playing with your fingers as you stepped inside the caravan. You never liked having all eyes on you. That's probably why you hated receiving your medal of honour. Everyone was just watching you, wordlessly. That is until Seven rose and extended his hand.

"I'm Seven. That's Four," He pointed to the blonde with the dog on his lap "Those two with the map are Two and Three. And the girl with the book is Five," Each of them waved to you, and Five gave you a small smile. But Four couldn't stop staring.

"Alright, so, I meant to cover this with you earlier, but we all go by numbers. We don't tell each other our real names, we don't go back for one another. No strings attached to each other or the outside world. In this field of work, we can't afford to become emotionally connected. You go by Eight now," One chirped and you nodded. From everything he'd told you, you could understand why names can't be used.

"So, how many missions have you guys done?" You asked, clumsily perching yourself on the edge of the table.

"Uh, including the one we just did, two," Five replied softly, folding the corner of her page and placing the book down. Four's hands ran over Wally's head.

"T-two?" You muttered, before turning to One, "I thought you said you'd done tons of missions?"

"Yeah, that may have been a little bit of a lie, but we will go on tons of missions," One admitted and you sighed, but let out a small chuckle. You were already starting to like this team.

---------------------------------------------------------------------- One mission turned into five. And then five turned to ten. It turned out that the adrenaline rush was addictive, and after three years, you'd joined their little family. But the person you'd clicked most with was Four. At first, you'd hated each other. He was so cocky at times and it really ground your gears. Still did even now, but it was more bearable. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- "Such a fucking show off," Four grumbled as you and Seven did some target practice. You had yet to miss and Four was starting to get pissed off by your accuracy.

"Did you say something, Ken doll?" You turned to Four, your gun falling to your side, eyebrows raised expectantly. Four had so much he wanted to say but when he opened his mouth to say it, he couldn't seem to let it out. Looking like a damn fish, Four just glared, folding his arms over his chest like a toddler.

"Come have a shot if you want Four," Seven offered with a smirk on his face, knowing fully well that Four was nowhere near as good a shot as you or himself.

"You know, I'm going to stick to my parkour if it's all the same to you. I'd rather practice doing my job than yours," Four commented snarkily. You let out a quiet giggle.

"I know for a fact you've used a gun on a mission before Four. What are you afraid of?"

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, how was Florence? Two told me a little bit about it," You asked Four, sat beside him on the couch as you picked the dirt from under your nails.

"Florence? Absolute shitshow, if I hadn't been there, more than one of us dead," Four stated cockily, shrugging his shoulders.

"Is Florence the reason there's no Six?" You asked gently, ignoring his annoying nature. Four shifted uncomfortably and silently nodded his head.

"One's still looking for a new driver. When One brought you, I thought you were gonna be the driver," He replied, diverging the conversation away from his fallen friend. "So, a medal of honour, huh?"

"Yeah. They gave me a medal for killing people for the country but would put me in prison if I killed a guy out here," You answered grimly, looking up from your nails. Four chuckled, but you only wished you were joking.

"Why'd you accept it if you didn't want it?"

"At the time, I was thrilled by the offer. I never really thought about it until after I had it," You answered shortly, folding your arms over your chest.

"You made history though, surely that's something?" Four attempted to lighten the subject, but from the grimace on your face, he could tell he wasn't succeeding any time soon.

"I guess. Not particularly thrilled about being the US army's poster girl," You glanced out the window, a part of you missing the quiet life you had before joining the Underground. But the friendships you'd made were ones you never wanted to be rid of. "So, what did you do before all of this?"

"I was a thief. Worked with a bunch of others, going all over the world and stealing some of the most priceless pieces of jewellery. That's how One found me- a robbery gone wrong. A girl on my team decided the jewellery in my mouth was more important than my life," Four answered, clearly still a tad bit petty about the whole situation. You patted his arm softly, silently telling him that it was alright to be mad. He looked up, eyes catching with your own. Neither of you said anything, but you couldn't pull your eyes from one another. You could've sworn you saw his eyes dart down to look at your lips before he cleared his throat and mumbled some excuse about needing to talk to Two before shooting off.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"Eight, do you have eyes on the target?" One's voice whispered through the earpiece.

"Target is heading to the lower East facility now," You answered back, quietly sneaking around the corner, narrowly missing the bodyguards of the mighty, corrupted prince.

"Four, Eight, follow the target. I got a plan," Seven instructed. You could see Four between the two adjacent buildings of the pompous structure you currently were in.

"Roger that," Four replied, stopping on the edge of the building, seeing a sign that connected your building and his. He hesitated, remembering the last time he tried to cross a sign. But he was with a new group now. It'd be okay. So with a heavy sigh, he began making his way across as you crept through the facility, both of you following after the royal and his guards. In the corner of your eye, you spied two isolated guards dropping, probably Seven working his magic.

Four climbed down from the sign, meeting you near to the door the Prince had entered, three bodyguards stood outside the front. You both crouched, waiting for Three and Five to compose the distraction so you guys could get in. One was busy disabling the security cameras, while Seven took out the occasional bodyguard from his position, just close enough to get to you if things got messy. Two was meant to follow after Three and Five, but when they opened the door, they were rather Two-less. Four could guess that something had gone wrong or she was handling something that Three had fucked up - that was normally how it worked. Four and you exchanged a look as Five approached the guards, and Three stood politely behind her. The two guards straightened, glaring down at the pair, one of them grabbing his gun.

"You're not permitted to be here. We're going to have to ask you to leave," One of them said, completely monotone, but a harsh look on his face.

"I was sent here for the Prince. A little present, if you will," Five winked at the guard. The two guards exchanged a look, one of them raising his eyebrows. They moved closer to the pair, leaving a big enough gap for you and Four to get to the door.

"And you?" The other asked, looking at Three.

"I'm her escort. I doubt the Prince would want his gift to come damaged," Three answered smoothly. You and Four looked at each other and nodded, beginning to move forward. Three watched you both carefully, making sure the guards didn't turn around. As soon as you and Four got inside, both him and Five attacked.

When you got inside, you and Four both hid behind some of the furniture. The teenage, only 17, Prince was talking to two politicians. He was planning to murder his sister so he would become heir to the throne and these politicians were trying to help him. You snuck around the circular room, hiding behind couches and tables.

"Four and Eight have made it inside. Bodyguards are down," Five commented, knowing you to wouldn't be able to make any noise when you got inside.

"Eight, you need to plant the listening device on the desk in front of the Prince. Four, you have to distract the politicians and the Prince so she can plant the listening device. It's up to you guys now. Once they're distracted, Four you gotta get out there. You'll be on your own from then on, Eight, "One repeated the plan, and you and Four nodded at each other from opposite sides of the room.

You carefully stepped as close to the desk as you could get without being seen as Four edged back to the door, opening it and slamming it, before hiding again. The Prince and Politicians looked at the door cautiously but continued on with their conversation after a few seconds of reluctance. There wasn't anything to throw and he had nothing on him to make noise.

"Five and I are back at the car with Seven," Three stated over the earpiece. So much for the help, if it got messy

"Me and One are on our way," Two added. It really WAS just you and Four now.

Four knew he'd have to call out and make a run for it. All the guards were out, so it was the safest possibility for both him and you. He looked over at you one more time before he let out a yell.

"Hey! Over here, your majesty!" The three men shot up, and the Prince called for his security. Your head snapped to Four with wide eyes, as he began sprinting, opening the door and bolting out, the two politicians running after him. The Prince paused before walking out after them and shutting the door behind him, going to find out where his bodyguards had gone. You sighed quietly.

"The distraction has been taken, planting the listening device now," You whispered over the earpiece, planting the device on the desk, and one on each of the men's coats. You ran to the door, peaking your head out to see if the coast was clear. When you saw no one, you snuck out, heading towards the stairs and sprinting down them. It was only when you got to the exit, the car so close, with your team waiting inside, that your heart stopped. A hand grabbed your hair and yanked you back. You let out a yelp in pain. The car's tinted window hid their faces, but you could tell they were all surprised, and, you hoped, concerned. The person behind you used your hair to pull you back to their chest, pinning your hands behind your back, a knife coming to rest on your throat. You gulped, fearfully, shooting a desperate look to the people in the car.

"Quite a clever stunt you and your friends pulled. But you can't pull the wool over my eyes," A cold voice spoke in your ear. The Prince. You felt the blood in your veins freeze. "I know trickery when I see it. I could hear the fight outside. I know your friends took my guards out. I just set the trap for you. And you fell straight into it," You were terrified. This guy was clearly bordering on the edge of insanity and you were scared of what he'd do to you. Tears were so close to escaping your eyes, but when the car in front of you started up and drove off, you couldn't fight them off. "I've been wanting a new play toy for a while. Let's have some fun, shall we?"

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"One, stop this fucking car!" Four screamed from the back seat, Two and Three have to hold him back from attacking One.

"I've told you, she wasn't careful enough. We can't risk everything we've built for one member,"

"One, I swear to fucking god if you don't turn this car around I will post all the pictures of us and tell everyone that we aren't dead. I will tell them EVERYTHING we've done! Now turn this fucking car around right now!" The air was tense. Four had never been so hysterical about something. One showed no signs of turning the car around so Five grabbed the steering wheel, causing the car to wobble.

"What are you fucking doing?" One yelled, setting the car straight again.

"One, we're going back to get her. We can't risk everyone finding out about us. So do as he fucking says you dumb bastard," Two said, and although she spoke a lot more calmly than Four had, they both held the same venom in their voices. One looked in the rearview mirror and saw that Seven, Five and Three were all glaring at him. Realising he was outnumbered, One let out a loud groan, before sharply turning the car, causing everyone to jolt to the side.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"Get your dirty hands off me," You screamed as two of the Prince's guards, who'd finally woken up, held your arms back.

"You might as well save your voice, no one can hear you," The Prince stated, shooting you a disgusted look. He came right up to your face and you sneered at him before spitting on him. He stumbled back, wiping his face.

"You little bitch!" He snapped before pulling his arm back and punching you in the nose. You moaned as pain spread all around your nose. You could already feel it bleeding, he'd probably broken it. Fantastic. Another punch landed in your gut before you had time to recover and you lost your balance and fell to your knees, coughing at the impact, the two guards still holding your arms. You looked up at him through your hair and he smirked before calling another guard over with a curl of his finger.

"Why don't you teach this little bitch a lesson. Make sure she'll remember it for a long LONG time."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

The car had barely stopped when Four jumped out, not taking the time to wait for the rest of the team as he ran inside. He stepped over the unconscious bodies of bodyguards and the team spread out, looking for the Prince.

"I have eyes on Eight. Higher Western facility, near the politicians' office," The instant Seven's voice spoke the directions, Four sprinted so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet.

Seven had his gun pointed at one of the bodyguard's head, and Two, who joined them a few seconds later, pointed her gun at the other bodyguard. Four watched with baited breath as the pair took their aim. Two bullets flew through the air and the two bodyguards dropped, and your arms dropped weakly to your sides. They'd definitely broken a few things. It hurt to even lookup. The Prince and the remaining bodyguard, the one who had taken the time to torment you, looked around, confusion written on their faces. One and Two ran up to the two remaining men as Four rushed to your side and picked you up, knowing you wouldn't be able to run. You gripped onto him tightly, fear gripping onto every bone in your body. He and Five raced back to the car, needing to get you looked at as soon as possible. Eventually, you blacked out, and all you felt was Four's hand clutching yours desperately.

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They hadn't broken anything but your nose, but the bodyguard had given you two black eyes, some bruised ribs and a few cuts all over from the ring he was wearing when he hit you. Every time you stood, your entire body ached. Four was there to help you through it, of course, taking your hand and guiding you to and from places. One was still pissed off at Four for making him stop the car, potentially jeopardising the mission. And you were just as angry at him for even CONSIDERING leaving you behind.

"Look, I never wanted to leave you behind, Eight," One reasoned "But you have to understand that the team comes before the individual."

"Without the individuals, there'd be no fucking team, One! You left me to die there!" You hissed, slamming your drink down on One's coffee table. You'd come to his trailer to try and have a civil discussion, but everything he said seemed to get under your skin.

"You messed up, and you paid for it!" One shot back, shrugging off your response.

"If you had been me in that situation, would you want to be left alone?" You asked sharply, folding your arms over your chest. One looked at you and looked down again, not giving you an answer. "That's what I thought. When you're ready to apologise to me, you know where to find me," You made your way over to the door and exited, closing it behind you. Four was waiting for you like he said he would be, and you could tell from how red his face was, he had heard the whole conversation. And he wasn't happy. "C'mon let's go to your trailer."

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"He acts like his fucking big brother, getting to decide who comes who goes, who lives, who dies," Four ranted furiously, pacing around the trailer. He'd been there, he knew EXACTLY how you must have felt in that situation. He'd just been foolish enough to believe that One had learnt from the last time.

"Four, he's just a rich asshole. C'mere," You beckoned him from your spot on his couch. Hesitantly, Four came to sit next to you and you curled up next to him "I don't want to talk about him. I just want you here with me. Us and only us."

Four smiled down at you tenderly, pressing a kiss to your forehead and wrapping his arm around you. You rested your head on his chest, feeling how fast his heart was beating. It made you laugh. He was so sweet.

"You're such a softie," Four teased but he pulled you closer to him, leaving no space between you.

"You love it, Four," You responded quietly, voice muffled by his jumper.

"Billy."

"What?"

"My name's Billy," He corrected and you rested your chin on his chest to look up at him. You grinned and Billy nearly felt his heart melt.

"That's a cute name," You mumbled sweetly "I'm (Y/N)," Billy didn't say anything but he rested his head on top of yours, burying his nose in your hair, just appreciating your touch an comfort. He'd tell you someday. How he felt. But right now, he was happy just being near you. That was enough for him.

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Tags: @writingfortoomanyfandoms @metaphorical-love-for-a-car@queens-n-roses @freaky-dcaky @yourealegendfred@fierce-bab@dusthas-beenbitten @bensroger @strangeandwonderfulconcepts@babebenhardy@benhardyjones @silvver-rose

#phoebe writes #ben hardy #6 underground #ben hardy x reader #four x reader #four #billy #billy x reader #one #two #three #five #six #seven

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angelaiswriting · 4 years

Text

The Assistant (14 of ?) | Vladimir Ranskahov x fem!reader

[original picture found on: pinterest]

✏️ Pairings:

(almost official) Vladimir Ranskahov x fem!reader

Anatoly Ranskahov x OC (Paulina)

✏️ Requested by @kellydixon01 : Y/N–hacker, big mouth, even bigger attitude–is the new addition to Fisk’s team. Sent to help the Ranskahovs, she immediately gets on Vladimir’s nerves. But as time passes, they start to take a liking to each other, even if none of them is willing to admit their feelings. Yet.

✏️ Previously on The Assistant (aka I’m shit at updating): Y/N returns home after having spent some painful days in Wesley’s hands and finds Vladimir waiting for her. He unexpectedly takes care of her, gives her a safe place to stay (’just so that he can keep an eye on her’), and as a consequence, they find themselves slowly growing fonder of and closer to each other.

✏️ A/N: sorry it took me one year to update :) many thanks to Alice for the great ideas that helped inspire me again! 💛 more weird things are coming, I don’t even know what this story is aymore lmao we going from serious to crack in the matter of one chapter my homies

✏️ Warnings: nothing, just some stubbornness on Vlad’s part, mentions of terrible singing, fluff with hand holding !!! and a surreal situation with an old friend.

✏️ Word-count: 4,577

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: ULYANA

Days turned into weeks much quicker than he would have ever thought but the truth was, Vladimir enjoyed Y/N’s presence in his apartment. He had even caught himself calling it ‘home’ once or twice – never out loud, of course, always in his mind, but it was in there that it bore more meaning.

She had unofficially moved in with him – just so that I can keep an eye on her, he had told his brother, but both Vlad and Toly knew that the former would never manage to close his eyes long enough to have a good night’s sleep if he had to add her to his list of worries and responsibilities. She had moved in with him and suddenly the walls of his apartment had stopped closing in on him, and the shadows had turned a tad bit lighter, his demons a bit paler.

He had only ever lived with his brother – even before America, when their life had still been in Moscow and he had a girlfriend to call the love of his life. It had been him and Toly; it had always been the two of them ever since their mother had died and they had been left alone in this world. So now he wasn’t used to it – wasn’t used to sharing living spaces and taking turns for his morning shower; wasn’t used to helping someone prepare breakfast in the silence of the kitchen, and he was still learning how to use Netflix. But it had taken him less than he thought it would take, to get used to someone else’s rhythms.

It will only be for few weeks, he had told her at the beginning, on that Monday morning of almost two months ago. After that, he’d send her away to his enemy-friend in Russia, where she’d hopefully be safe, but Vladimir had yet to take that step forward. He hadn’t picked up the phone, nor had he sent an email to one of the men he still had back home to see if Sokolovsky still had an eye on the former kings of the Capital. He simply hadn’t reached out and the plan he should have given shape to still remained confused and untouched, its silhouette still vague in his mind.

The reason behind that was probably the fact that living with her felt easy. Easy and comfortable, almost homely in a way, and he found himself allowing her that very benefit of the doubt he had never truly graced her with before she had gone missing for three days straight.

He never told her these things, of course. He kept them locked inside his mind and his heart, and part of him foolishly hoped that she would pick up on them on her own. That she would look at him one morning, looked right into his eyes, and see something that would light up a lightbulb inside her head. Almost like a cartoonish a-ha! moment, that’s what he hoped for, and he was ashamed of it every single time his thoughts stopped on that. That would be the easier way, and he wouldn’t have to open up to let her in, for she would see and crawl her way to the center of his soul without him being able to stop her.

But then they had started going back to work, back to the garage, and he had found himself opening up a lot more easily than anticipated. There was no more screaming nor fighting coming from his office, and he had even given her permission to use his desk when he wasn’t there.

Little by little, he had let that whatever-this-is feeling he harbored for her consume the weld joints of his armor. A joke thrown his way just before she left with Petya to go to lunch; a cheesy punchline chuckled in the silence of his office when he least expected for her to open her mouth; and then all those Friday nights out at some bar that had somehow become a tradition.

“This job is starting to get boring.”

She dropped down into the chair in front of his desk, laptop abandoned on the new leather couch he had bought a few days after she had shown up again – it was time I threw old one away, that had been his excuse, but deep down he knew he had done all that for her. He had even gone that one step forward and bought her a nice coffee table – and then one of those fancy trays with legs he still didn’t know the name of, just so that she could keep her laptop in her lap without actually burning her thighs. A new desk would have probably been the best solution, but in his mind that meant admitting to everyone that he was doing something for someone else, someone that wasn’t family nor business, and… Well, he just wasn’t ready. What he really wasn’t ready for, though, was for her to understand. And that truly went against all the silly hopes he had, but he was scared, and while Tanya wasn’t on his mind that often anymore, he didn’t want to fuck up –or to get fucked up by yet another person.

“What do you want me to do?” His groan was just a bluff, a way to pretend like he was still the same Vladimir that had welcomed her – if so one could say – on her very first day at the garage. “Give you time off?”

She picked up a pen from his pencil holder and twisted it between her fingers. “I don’t like doing taxes, that’s not part of my job.”

He chuckled for a moment before he covered it with a cough. “Aslan is helping Sergei prepare for the trip, and others barely know any math.”

When all his words were met with was a huff, he dared a quick peek above the frame of his laptop and found her already staring at him. She had taken her glasses off, but still had the indentations of the bridge on the sides of her nose.

“It’s almost time to go clock out,” she pointed out, tapping the pencil on the top of his computer. “Everyone’s already gone home… You’re the boss, we could be leaving whenever you want.”

His right eyebrow rose in an amused expression, and he had to swallow down that chuckle that was threatening to come up again. What was it about her that had this effect on him? And why was he only now embracing it? Inside, he was burning with the desire to cave in and let her win, go home – home – and watch TV, maybe order pizza or Chinese. But a new meeting with Fisk’s man was coming up and soon both Aslan and Sergei would leave for a business trip to Florida, and he was behind on his schedule.

“I can’t.” He offered her a weak shoulder shrug before hinting at the couch with his chin. “But you can call it a day if you want. I have to-”

But she pushed the lid of his laptop down until it closed. “You have to do nothing. I saw what you’re doing and what you have already done. You’re good, Vlad, you can finish early today. When was the last time you took it easy?”

They stared at each other, and he truly did his best to not look away. The truth was, he didn’t know when that was. Sure, he had taken some time off when she had come back beaten and battered, and when she had moved in with him, on the other side of the corridor from her own apartment, and he had stayed home with her. But he had still been busy – busy with her and with his anger, and then the drinking and the kissing… It hadn’t been pure rest; he wasn’t even sure he knew what that was.

“We can’t afford mistakes if we want to fool weasel,” he frowned, a hand moving over his computer to open it again, but hers was still pressing it down.

She chuckled – both at his choice of that word and at the despise in his voice. “One day off won’t kill you, come on.”

He never pushed her as much as he had used to before the accident, but she still looked drained that day, even despite that playful façade she had put up. So, he ended up caving in. It was weird, to feel allowed to do something, take it easy – and for himself, not someone else. He didn’t need anybody’s permission to do anything – or to not do something – but it was almost as though part of the weight he carried on his shoulders had been lifted off of him.

“It’s Friday anyway,” she reminded him as she put her things in his car, a few minutes later, and he found himself grinning behind her, safe in the knowledge that she couldn’t see him.

Friday meant booze and bars, and it was thanks to them that he had gotten to know her better and she… well, he did try opening up a bit more, and alcohol surely helped. But it was one thing to spend all week thinking about spending time with her, doing something normal, civilized people did, and it was another to realize that she was looking forward to those nights probably just as much as he.

“Maybe we could reach the others,” he proposed in the spur of the moment, before he had the time to truly think his proposal over, his brother’s invitation still fresh in his mind. “Just for this once,” he quickly added, but she was already turning toward him with a bright smile on her face.

Vladimir had vague memories about the night before. Sergei and the guys had gotten him absolutely hammered, but he was fairly sure he remembered Piotr howling something vaguely similar to We didn’t think you two lovebirds would make it when he and Y/N had shown up at Anatoly’s place. The only thing he was sure of, when he woke up above his blankets and still dressed in his now-crumpled suit, was that there was no way in both heaven and hell that he had driven himself and his girl back home.

“Are you still alive?” came a drowsy voice from the corridor.

When he twisted his head to the side, she was standing there, just like that night of many weeks ago, leaning against the frame of the door. She had just gotten out of the shower, he noticed when he managed to take in her wet hair still dripping droplets of water onto her shirt.

He heaved a sigh, a noisy one, straight out of his nose, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth and give her an actual answer. Too laced with sleep and grogginess, he just laid there, and somehow, whatever that entailed, in his mind he felt like a fish.

“I’ll take that groan as a yes. Coffee will be ready in a few if this headache doesn’t take me out before I reach the kitchen and the pills.”

It was ten minutes later, when he was finishing getting dressed, that his brother knocked on his bedroom door and almost scared the crap out of him. For the first time in forever, his heart jumped up in his throat and as he whipped around, he almost tripped in his own feet.

“What the fuck, Tolik?” he groaned, Russian scorching and angry in his mouth as he tied the drawstrings of his sweatpants.

Good morning to you as well was the answer he got as he stared as his brother walked forward and sat on his bed. “The living room is messy,” Anatoly pointed out matter-of-factly as he looked around in the room and put the keys to his brother’s apartment back into the pocket of his jacket. “I didn’t even know you had books somewhere.”

Vlad’s brows furrowed. “Did you come to criticize my apartment?”

The other shrugged. “So, did you tell her?” he grinned – a big ass grin that went from ear to ear and that threw uneasiness on Vladimir like a bucket of cold water on the head. “Y/N,” he added when his brother grimaced in annoyance and confusion.

“Tell her what?” He feigned ignorance, and not because he was trying to play coy, but more because he wanted to avoid talking about feelings with his brother. It didn’t matter that he found himself calling him in the dead of night, with a closed-up throat and confusion thrashing his mind as he tried to figure out what, exactly, was making him feel the way he felt.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Vova. Even the guys are starting to notice.”

So maybe his memory of Piotr yelling lovebirds in his brother’s living room wasn’t a faulty memory. The possibility that that had actually happened stopped his mind from working for a moment. “Notice what?”

Really? was saying the look on Anatoly’s face. He stared at him, chuckled to himself, and then he stood up to close the distance between them. With his brother’s hands cupping his face, he felt like a child again. “You took two weeks off of work, that never happened, not even back in Moscow. And they all know you spent them in here with her. Then,” he went on, hands now leaving his face, “you made her workstation a bit more comfortable: new couch, new coffee table, even a new tray table for her laptop. That’s all new, and I have to agree with them in saying so.”

“You didn’t tell them…”

“About you calling me after midnight, trying not to cry because you had been kissing her and you were scared because you enjoyed it?” Anatoly scoffed, and then he scoffed once more at Vladimir’s annoyed expression. “Why would I? I’m your brother, and you’re your own person. You’re old enough to take care of yourself.”

A faint okay was Vladimir’s answer, heart beating wildly inside his chest. His gaze wandered back to the hallway, hoping and praying that she wasn’t there, whether it was accidentally or not.

“You dueted Can’t Help Falling In Love yesterday.”

His head turned back to Toly so fast that he got whiplash and for a moment, a brief second, he risked losing his balance. “What?”

“It was terrible, Paulina was still laughing when I left this morning. Drunk karaoke is not for you – for neither of you. And if you didn’t end up going at it on my living room floor, someone up there truly is looking down on us,” he chuckled. “Everybody was probably too drunk to remember about that this morning, so don’t worry. What you should worry about, though, is telling her.”

It wasn’t like his brother was wrong and he was right when it came to swallowing down anything that got thrown his way – both the blessings and the curses. It was more of a matter of pride, it didn’t matter that he did call Anatoly in almost-tears more than once when he should have been fast asleep. It was also his business, and it wasn’t like it interfered with his job: he still slaved off, he still put his ass on that chair and did what he had to do. The only thing he hadn’t done was pick up the phone and call Sokolovsky, but that was because he didn’t really need him, because he was more than capable of taking care of her, of keeping her safe.

Most of the time, that was.

“Did you come to talk about my feelings?” He wasn’t on the verge of losing his cool, but he did want his brother and his accusations out of his bedroom.

“No,” was the reply. “Your feelings are your own, but it sure does hurt me to see my brother choosing pain over happiness over and over again.”

“I am happy.”

“Yes, for now. But then what? When pretending like you don’t feel anything won’t be enough anymore, what then? You’ll close up again, kick her out?” One of Anatoly’s hands covered his cheek and again, it was like being back home, and it was his mother’s hand the one on his face, warm and homely and safe, distracting his thoughts from whatever his father had been throwing at them that day. “I love you, brother. I always will, even if we have our own lives outside of the garage. And the last thing I want,” he sighed, “is going back to my woman and have her rant about the both of you being too stupid and blind to hold each other’s hand in public.”

Vlad frowned, his head tilting back a bit as he stared at his brother in disbelief.

“I’m kidding. But I do love you and I do want you happy. I don’t know what goes on in that thick skull of yours anymore, but I know what you’re doing to yourself. She won’t eat you alive, she won’t laugh in your face. If anything, after the terrible singing you both did last night, I think she might cry happy tears.”

He removed his brother’s hand from his face and took a step back. “I’ll ask again: Did you come to talk about my feelings for Y/N?”

Instead of saying So you do have feelings for her – because that was what he could read on his face – Tolik sighed in surrender before lifting his gaze to the ceiling for a moment. “No,” he eventually groaned. “Ulyana called. The sink in her bathroom keeps on leaking and she needs help.”

“So? Do you need my permission to go?”

“Fuck off, mudak.” He read disbelief in his brother’s eyes – disbelief more than annoyance at his petty ass. “She hasn’t seen you in months, she’s worried. After all she did for us, you up and leave? She asked explicitly for you, Vova. Just go, fix what needs to be fixed and spend some time with her – she hasn’t gone to bingo afternoons in forever.”

Ulyana had been like a mother and a grandmother all in one, back when he and Anatoly had first arrived in New York with barely anything in their suitcases. They had left everything behind, but had found a friend and ally in her. She had helped them – probably more than she should have – and they had reached their current position also thanks to the goodness of her heart. Ulyana’s tiny apartment felt and smelled like home, like a Russia they’ll probably never live again. Like home and hopes and all kinds of promises, shining under the sun.

It did make him feel bad, facing the accusations of abandoning Lina to her fate just because he had relapsed into something he didn’t want to give a name to. It was like a stab wound to the heart, and his heart didn’t ache just for anybody. She had become more of his responsibility when Tolya and Paulina had gotten together and he had been happy, for a while. But then his demons had got strong again, drawn the curtains of his mind, and even Ulyana’s place had turned dark and cold, and he had felt like there was no more space for him there.

“I’m serious, Vlad: you have to go. Take Y/N with you if you have to, but if I get a call from her, saying that you didn’t show up…”

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, and those three seconds felt longer than three hours as he stood there, under his brother’s accusatory gaze. “Fine, yes, I’ll go.”

The drive to Ulyana’s housing block was long and silent, stretched out even more by the crazy Saturday afternoon traffic. Y/N had yet to ask her usual bunch of questions about what they were going to do and where, exactly, they were going to do it. It was a blessing because he was sure that Ulya was his best-kept secret – after what she had done for him and his brother, without ever expecting anything in return, keeping her out of any kind of trouble was the least he could do.

But he hadn’t visited her in forever, so, whether his actions had managed to get the FBI to knock on her door or not, she was still going to be pissed. In her own way, that is – without violence nor harsh words, and that was truly something he had never been used to.

When they eventually arrived at their destination and he stopped the car in Ulyana’s unused parking lot, for her husband had died twenty years or so ago, he turned in his seat to look at Y/N, suddenly nervous about what he was about to do. It felt almost like a leap of faith, opening up about such a secret to someone like her. That was where that stupid ‘benefit of the doubt’ kicked in, even though, deep down, he had already started to trust her long before that day.

“What’s up?” she asked as she unlocked her seat belt and looked out of the windshield to try and understand why he was still in the car.

He couldn’t read her expression with those shades she was wearing, her sight still sore and sensitive, for her headache was still there, even if a lot lighter compared to what had almost cracked her head open just that morning. It was probably for the best, that he couldn’t look at her in the eye; it was like he wasn’t facing her at all, and it gave him the illusion that he wasn’t exactly spilling some beans, somehow.

“We’re going to meet someone,” he started, hands still gripping the steering wheel. “She is… my friend. I’m sure you know nothing about her.”

Y/N lifted her sunglasses up, looked at him through squinted eyes, before turning towards him with her whole body on the seat. “I know nothing about… who?”

“You will see,” he replied after a moment of indecision, torn as he was between telling her now or introducing her to the old woman when she would welcome them into her home. “It has to remain this way, though. A secret. It won’t end up in one of your files,” he added, hinting back at the files she had put together about him and his brother and Tatyana and everyone back at the garage, and had then shown him a few weeks back.

“Do you want me to pinky promise that?” she chuckled, but he knew that she was serious, only trying to downplay and lighten the atmosphere in the car to put him at ease.

He scoffed at that and simply opened his car door. “Let’s go.”

Inside, the building was a bit more run-down than he remembered it to be from the last time he stepped foot in it. The ceiling lamp in the entrance, a closed space with only the glass door as a source of light, wasn’t working when they walked in, and the staircase had a gloomy look to it when they walked up the steps.

Behind him, he could feel Y/N’s gaze drilling holes in the back of his head, but there was nothing he could do. There was also no need to do anything right now, when she’d see who this whole thing was about in a matter of minutes and judge the whole situation by herself.

“Ulyana Filimonova,” she read the oval plaque right above the peephole when he rang the bell. “Who’s this? I didn’t know you-”

But the door opened and an old lady, shorter than her by a whole head, stared Vladimir down to the ground with an accusatory gaze and a wooden spoon in her hand that, judging by the look in her eyes, she wasn’t scared to use as a weapon.

“Vladimir Borisovich! Where have you been?” Her voice was high and indignant as she spat angry English like it were bullets. But then her gaze landed on Y/N, standing half-shocked, half-amused on Vladimir’s left, and she stared at her with parted lips for a moment before she grinned, the look in her eyes melting away and fading into unexpected happiness. “Ah, finally a girlfriend!” she exclaimed, making Vladimir choke on his spit. “I was getting worried, my boy! But that’s good. I always said you need a softer touch in your life, da?”

Sputtering, Vladimir was about to protest when ‘the girlfriend’ tugged harshly on his hand and gave him a look.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Miss!” she smiled, stretching her hand out to introduce herself.

Ulyana was still talking when she moved to the side to let them in – first Vlad and then Y/N, whose arm she took in hers right after closing the door. “No ‘Miss’ around here,” she joked. “I’ve been happily married for almost forty years and even though my Shura is long gone, I still carry rings around my neck,” and she pulled out the chain from underneath her flowery blouse. “But please, get comfortable, I’ll go put on some tea!” she smiled, accompanying them into a tiny but tidy living room and showing them the two-seat couch. “Vlad never brought anyone home, it’s nice to be finally meeting his love!” And with those words, she left in a hurry.

“Who the hell is this woman?” Y/N whispered when she turned to look at Vladimir, sitting as stiff as a pole next to her. “This is the most surreal situation I’ve ever lived so far.”

“She…” He cleared his throat, still confused as to why Lina thought Y/N was his girlfriend of sorts. Maybe girl friend, with that tiny space in its middle, could be considered correct, but there was definitely no relationship between them – not yet, at least. “She helped me and Toly when we arrived. We used to live two doors down the corridor. She taught us better English.”

She nodded. “I’m surprised you managed to keep her off the records. I’m surely not the best at my job, but I consider myself good enough, and I never got a whiff of her.” She paused for a moment and Vladimir did his best not to look at her, but only spied her expressions from the corner of his eye. “Why does she think I’m your girlfriend?” she asked then, voice soft and almost shy, as she threw a glance in the direction the old woman had disappeared into.

Vladimir sighed, eyes rolling of their own accord as he relaxed against the back of the couch, his shoulder pressing right against hers. “She’s always thought I needed woman in my life. She says that ‘I’m too rough around edges,’ that I need someone to show me the good side of things.” He turned his head, then, and instead of meeting a look that mirrored his, he found her smiling softly at him, almost too lost in her thoughts to pay any attention to him.

“It would be a pity if she found out that we’re not… Y’know, a thing,” she reasoned out loud, taking his hand in hers just a few seconds before Ulyana came back with a box of Danish biscuits.

God bless Ulyana I guess! 🤷🏻‍♀️

Feedback always appreciated, suggestions always welcome as well :)

TAGS (to be added to or removed from any list, shoot me an ask)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @mblaqgi @becs-bunker @gruffle1

The Assistant: @flowers-in-your-hayr

People that might be interested: @kind-wolf @sweetvengeancee @brobachev

#angelaiswriting #the assistant #vladimir ranskahov #vladimir ranskahov imagine #vladimir ranskahov fanfic #vladimir ranskahov x reader #vladimir daredevil #vladimir daredevil imagine #vladimir daredevil x reader

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min-youngis · 4 years

Text

Happy Cactus (pt. i)

gif not mine

~ Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x Reader

~ Summary : It hasn’t really been that long, and it definitely hasn’t been very public, but this thing you two have got going is some good shit. It’s almost like you’re ready to break your heart out of those old chains now.

You’re a grouch and Jungkook just makes you want to smile.

Established Relationship (it’s a secret shhh) ft. ot6

~ Word Count : 1,304

~ Warnings : The word sex, alcohol consumption and uhhh one swear word I think

~ A/N : jk best baby boy but also satan spawn with the power to make me write fic about him even when he isn’t my bias. i honestly don’t know what this is lmao but it has some fluff and a secret relationship and those are p much my kinks so 🤷‍♀️. some new thangs in here that i tried out, some dialogue, some swearing, more characters, we shall see how it goes down. there is, in fact, a pt. ii to this that i’m super excited to write upload. Jungkook and Y/N ’s costumes for reference, or maybe just for a good chuckle, they are quite amusing.

i’d love to hear feedback! spread the love, y'all!

masterlist (it’s growing, my bAby) in my description!

~~~

“You’re….you’re shrimp,” you say, half awed and half amused, almost yelling to be heard over the thumping bass.

Jungkook’s eyes look brighter than usual, no doubt from the contents of the nearly empty cup in his hand.

“At least my costume’s identifiable. What are you supposed to be, a green penis?” he yells back, only slightly slurring, gesturing up and down at your very time consuming and incredibly itchy outfit, drink nearly spilling out the rim of his cup.

You take a step back to avoid being in the line of fire and end up stepping on something suspiciously wet on the floor, that you can only hope is the trashy beer that everybody’s been getting slowly drunk on for the past hour or so.

In the darkness of the room that’s sparsely illuminated by a spinning disco ball hanging from the ceiling, (“It’s for the vibe,” according to Tae,) and with your senses slightly numb due to the drink you’ve been nursing, you barely register the squelch.

You’re prone to theatrics when you’re tipsy and it’s with a scoff and a dirty look that you say, “I’m a happy cactus. Get it? Happy?”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a large, green penis,” he says, adjusting his body so his prawn costume is sideways and isn’t too close to hitting anybody.

Except, in the process, he ends up being too close to you.

And suddenly, he’s standing right there, the closest you two have been in public.

If you weren’t inebriated, you would have stepped away. Distantly, in your mind, the thought enters, that maybe, just maybe, you shouldn’t be able to practically taste the beer in his breath and that he shouldn’t be winding his empty arm around your waist and tugging you to his chest, as close as your costumes allow.

Because the thing about dating somebody in secret is that it’s supposed to be a secret.

It’s laughable almost, how easily you sink into his embrace, leaning into the solace that his arms always seem to exude. You usually let yourself indulge in this kind of proximity only in private, under the covers, or maybe during a movie at one of your houses. Never when you’re both this exposed, your friends scattered in the crowd in the very same room.

It’s too dark for them to notice anything, and They’re drunk, you rationalise in your hazy mind. But a tiny part of you secretly wants them to find out. Maybe out of the corner of their eye, to see the two of you pressed up too close to each other for it to be just a hug between friends.

You would never admit this to yourself when sober, but you want to hold your fucking boyfriend’s hand in public, okay? You want a date that doesn’t just consist of dinner and a movie and then admittedly mind-blowing sex at your house.

(And it’s always your house, because Jungkook lives with Tae and Jimin and you haven’t met a nosier pair in your life.)

More than anything, you want people to stop flirting with Jungkook. You didn’t consider yourself a particularly jealous person until this whole dating in secret thing began and suddenly now you get prickly every time a waitress’s smile is just a little bit brighter or the dude from his dance studio stares at his shoulders for just a little bit longer than necessary.

And this stupid, beautiful boy just never notices.

You’re about to word vomit all this to him, who’s now rocking the two of you slowly side to side, probably unintelligibly, squished as you are to his chest, when a loud, “Y/N! KOOKIE! How are my best friends in the world?” erupts from somewhere on your left side, and now both you and Jungkook are being hauled sideways into a very drunk Jin.

“Hi, Jin,” you both say, voice muffled against his chest that’s rumbling with barely contained giggles, Jungkook’s greeting distinctly chirpier than yours.

You are, as the kids say, over this party.

True, you’ve been there for an hour and a half at most, and you’ve only had two drinks, but this kind of thing isn’t your scene and quite frankly, it’s a miracle that you showed up in the first place.

Jimin and Tae don’t know that their chocolate bribe didn’t work and that Jungkook was the one who actually got you here. You’re annoyingly susceptible to the wounded puppy look that he permanently has on standby, ready to be whipped out at a moment’s notice whenever you’re being characteristically stubborn or when things don’t go his way.

But now you want to leave, preferably with your boyfriend. You want out of the crowd and the music that’s progressed to EDM (courtesy Hobi) and all the disgusting fluids on the floor. You want to change into a large hoodie and some sweatpants and cuddle with Jungkook until you fall asleep and eventually wake up with your frames entangled and a slight hangover.

You’ve become disgustingly sappy over the last couple of months.

Jungkook sees the look on your face, knows what you’re thinking from your pout without you having to say it out loud and saves you the bother of trying to get out of the room alone by slowly lifting Jin’s arms from around the two of you. He placates him and puts a stop to his whine by snagging a passing-by, very disgruntled Yoongi and shoving him into Jin’s embrace instead, like a replacement hug-ee.

Yoongi’s glare would have anybody else cowering, but your boyfriend has been on its receiving end so often, he’s practically immune.

With a quick, unconcerned, “Bye,” Jungkook finishes his drink, signals you to do the same and then crushes both cups, dropping them in the garbage cover near the door.

(“For people with manners,” as stated by Tae.)

He takes your hand and you both walk out the room, destination Jungkook’s room on the first floor.

The difference in atmosphere the moment you step out of the room is stark, and the hallway’s comparatively cooler air sobers you up a bit. You slow down until you’re tugging at his arm and he turns around to face you.

“I didn’t mean to make you leave early. You can go back in and have fun, if you like,” you say, once you have his attention. You want him to stay with you, and he knows that and as helpless as you are to deny him what he wants, he is no better when it comes to you.

He gently tugs you closer, bending and pressing a fleeting kiss against your lips. “But I really want to get out of my costume, it’s riding up my ass,” he says, with a dopey smile on his face.

He knows how to put you at ease and relax the overthinking that you’re prone to, easily stringing together sentences that can’t be misinterpreted, that won’t make you think you’re the villain here for not letting him have his fun or letting that voice in your head nag that you’re being too clingy, no matter the time you spend dissecting his words.

You give a short, quick nod, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding before letting him continue your journey towards his room.

You both strip out of your costumes and change into (Jungkook’s) comfortable clothes, drunkenness slowly washing off and only really noticeable in the occasional, slightly clumsy kisses you two share.

And finally, you get your wish, in bed with Jungkook behind you, arm and leg thrown across your frame, breath fanning the back of your neck. It’s warm and it’s safe and it’s so, so right and sleep comes easy to you that night, like all the other nights you’ve spent with him.

~~~

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illfoandillfie · 4 years

Text

Curtains Part 6

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Roger F!Reader

Summery: Exams, a car show, and an entirely too long wait.

Warnings: Smut (18+), nothing overly kinky, a little bit of a dom/sub dynamic, dom!rog, some light degradation, a little breast/nipple play,fingering, honestly quite tame considering the shit these two normally get up to lmao

Words: 7129

A/N: Oh my god its finally here. The last chapter. I am so sorry it's taken so long but it's been super busy around home and whenever I did get a chance to write I got very worried I was going to balls it up and ruin the whole story lmao. Anyway, I've really loved writing this series and these characters and I hope you enjoy the last part!

Also the British International Motor Show was a real thing that really was held at the Olympia. And Roger did eventually own a Ferrari and a Mercedes, although as far as I know not a Rolls Royce (that was Freddie’s).

Taglist: @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @ezmina98 @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie

@bohemiansweede @rogershoe @lnnuend0 @funitrog @moonlit-wilde

The exams hit you hard. Most nights were spent at the library, staying as late as possible before you dragged yourself home and collapsed on your bed, the morning alarm always coming too soon to start the whole thing over again. The biggest downside of the routine was how little you’d been able to see Roger since it started. When you had managed to catch him he looked as tired and stressed as you felt, neither of you capable of talking for too long before one of you yawned or remembered you were meant to be revising. It filled what little space in your brain that wasn’t already full of anxiety about exams with anxiety about your relationship. You still weren’t entirely sure how solid things with Roger were. They were certainly at a better, more normal, place after your two dates and a not-quite-a-date at the markets. Freddie had spent the entire first half hour you were there eyeing you suspiciously, as if you were going to bolt suddenly or tell him off. He stopped eventually though and you’d had a lovely day, helping to sell a few items when you weren’t wandering around with Roger looking at other stalls. But everything still felt so new and uncertain, especially after the rocky start you’d had, which left you not entirely positive you were officially a couple, and now you couldn’t help worry that the forced distance would make Roger lose interest in you or set you back a few steps after all the progress you’d managed. It didn’t help that you were on edge from not getting laid recently. The last time had been an age ago, in the backseat of Roger’s car. You would have slept with him again at the markets, or more likely after you’d gone home, except your period had started the day before and you couldn’t bring yourself to suggest having sex like that. So, since then you’d been on forced celibacy with only the end of exams to look forward to. Sure, you could have masturbated but between the hours spent sitting the exams and the hours spent cramming for them, you never seemed to find time for it. It all added up to a rather unpleasant desire crushed beneath a lack of sleep and a constant voice in the back of your head telling you that you were fucking something up. Unhelpful for cultivating a good mood or an opportunity to convince Roger to come over for a quickie. In fact, you barely saw him until the day after his final exam.

Feeling slightly better rested since you were free from needing to regurgitate months of class notes, you walked up next door’s driveway and knocked on Roger’s door. “Y/N, what a pleasant surprise, come on in,” Freddie said as he opened the door, “all done then? Exams I mean,” “Yes, thank god. You?” “Yeah, I finished earlier in the week. Never been more relieved in my life, although the day Rog finished was a close second,” he led you through the cluttered living room, your eyes slipping from the old, worn couch to the record player by the phone, into the kitchen where Roger stood, a bowl of cereal in his hands, eyes out of focus as he stared off into space, “Rog, wake up darling, the girl you’ve been whining about is here to see you.” Roger blinked, tired eyes falling to you and pulling a smile onto his face, “Y/N,” “Hey Rog,” He hastily put down the bowl and pulled you into a hug. You sighed into him, mind already more at ease than it had been when you arrived. “How were your exams?” He asked when he finally let you go. “Oh y’know, okay I guess. Probably failed one of them but I’m beyond caring right now, you?” “Yeah, yeah, all good I think. I’m just glad to be able to sleep normally again. Kept having this dream about turning up to an exam naked and then realising it was the wrong subject anyway.” “Jesus, Rog, if you’re going to sit here dissecting your dreams again I’m going to have to leave.” “You call yourself my friend,” “And aren’t you lucky for it. Just remember to wash out your bowl this time,” Freddie grabbed the cup of tea he’d been making and exited with a wave that you returned. “Was that because of me? Does he still not like me?” “He likes you fine, I promise,” Roger grabbed your hand and led you out to the living room, “I’ve just been driving him nuts these last few days.” He dropped onto the couch with a creak and pulled you down onto his lap. “Nuts how?” “Oh y’know, exam stuff mostly. Weird little rituals I started doing to make sure I passed, like, um, I had to wear a particular pair of shoes to every exam, my sparkly silver ones, otherwise I was convinced I would fail. Nearly had a breakdown when I couldn’t find them one morning. Stuff like that.” “Would the other stuff be related to his girl you’ve been whining about comment?” “Maybe,” Roger looked away, as if slightly embarrassed to admit it, “I might have kept bugging him with questions about whether he’d seen you around. He went right off at me the other night, told me to pull my head in and just go see you but it was one in the morning so,” he shrugged as he trailed off, still focused on the other side of the room. “You really thought about me that much?” “Yeah, course,” he finally looked at your properly, “I missed… hanging out with you,” “Me too,” you smiled shyly, trying to work out if hanging out was a good sign or not. You decided to continue with the plan that had brought you to his door that morning, just in case, “But, if you’re up for it, I have an idea of something we could do tomorrow.” “Oh yeah? Does it involve making out a lot?” “I guess it could,” “Consider me there,” You laughed as he took hold of your chin and pulled you into a kiss. Maybe it was a good sign after all.

If Roger hadn’t broken off the kiss to yawn three different times, apologising after each one, you would have been hard pressed not to end up in his bed. He wasn’t quite as worked up as you were, admitting he’d developed the habit of wanking on the morning of every exam he had, but he was still eager for more than just making out, encouraging you to roll your hips and grind against him. But he was clearly too exhausted. “Where’re you going?” he asked as you wriggled off his lap and stood up. “You’re dead on your feet Rog, you should go catch up on some sleep,” “I’m not, come on come ba-“ he was cut off by another yawn. “See?” “Okay, fine. Maybe you have a point. But you don’t have to leave, you could come nap with me and then when I wake up in a couple of hours we can continue this, but tucked up in bed.” You laughed, “Nice try, Rog, but I’m gonna go home, let you rest properly. We’ll have all of tomorrow though. I’ll come by at tenish okay?” “Tenish it is. Can you give me a hint about what you have planned?” “No but I promise you’ll enjoy it.” “That could be anything,” he said as he walked you to the door, tilting his head and resting it against the frame. “Exactly. Don’t want to spoil it. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you made to leave but Roger caught your hand and pulled you back against him, leaving you slightly breathless, lips tingling with the kiss. “One for the road,” he shrugged, trying not to grin too much. “Go get some rest Rog,” you laughed, “Oh! And wear comfortable walking shoes tomorrow,” “Walking? That doesn’t sound like making out.”

You only had to knock once the next morning before Roger was opening the door, looking excited and better rested, though there were still heavy bags under his eyes. You’d seen the same bags on your own face but, thankfully, makeup covered a multitude of sins. “So, will you finally tell me where we’re going?” “No but if you don’t mind driving, I’ll instruct you where to go,” “You’re kidding me! You aren’t going to tell me anything but you want me to drive?” he narrowed his eyes and stared at you but you just smiled sweetly back until he relented, “good thing I like you so much or I woulda told you to shove it up your arse.” “You’re the best Rog,” you giggled, swooping in to kiss his cheek, “promise it’ll be worth it.” “Yeah yeah, get in the bloody car,” he shook his head but you caught him smiling to himself as he got into the drivers seat. “Your gonna need go left out of the driveway,” “I am, am I?” he said before following your instruction and turning left. You directed him there with only one minor detour when Roger managed to get stuck in the wrong lane and missed his turn. A few streets away from your destination he saw a sign directing passers-by to visit the British International Motor Show, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, but he said nothing, just let you tell him where to go. You could tell he was getting more excited with each street you directed him down, trying not to get his hopes up as you seemed to creep closer to the show. The dam burst when you told him to pull up in the carpark of the Olympia. “No fucking way,” he said softly, trying to concentrate on not hitting any other cars as he pulled into a spot, even as his eyes darted around the crowd of people entering the venue, “You got us tickets to the motor show?” “Mmhmm,” you nodded, digging around in your bag for your pre-purchased tickets, “you mentioned on our last date that you were a bit of a rev head so I thought you might like it.” The way he looked at you made your whole body feel like it was infested with a swarm of butterflies. It was a look of barely contained glee and adoration that had you beaming right back at him. Once he was out of the car he hurried round to your side, pulling you into a hug and spinning you around in a circle as he squeezed you tight. “Christ, Y/N,” “I guess that means you like it?” you laughed as he put you back on solid ground. “Like it? This is the sweetest thing a girl as ever done for me. Might actually be the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. As if I needed more reasons to fall for you.” Your breath caught in your throat and the swarm under your skin went haywire but Roger barely seemed to realise what he said, too excited and impatient to see the show. He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the entrance.

Most of the day was spent wandering around the show, Roger almost bouncing from one car to the next. There were all sorts to see, some brand new and unveiled that morning, some the kind your parents had driven around in as teenagers. There were more economic models, aimed at families or young adults looking for their first car and some were high end, luxury models with sleek designs and shiny finishes. Those were the sort that caught Roger’s eye most, never mind the outrageous prices you couldn’t even dream of affording. It was while standing in front of one of them, a gorgeous black Rolls-Royce from the mid-60s, that you nudged Roger with your elbow. “Y’know how when I first saw your Morris I said it wasn’t the type of car I imagined you in?” “Yeah,” “This is the sort of car I was picturing.” “Really? I’ve always loved a Rolls. Them and Ferraris. As a kid I used to have pictures of them ripped out of magazines and stuck up on my bedroom walls. Well, them and about a hundred other cars,” he chuckled at the memory and then fell silent for a bit, lost in thought, absentmindedly squeezing your hand. You were about to ask what he was thinking when he spoke again. “One day I’m going to own one.” “Are you now?” “Yup. One day Queen’s gonna hit it real fucking big. I’m not just saying that either, I mean it. We’ve really fucking got something the four of us, and one day we’ll have the number one song in the country and sell so many albums I’ll be able to buy one of each, a Rolls and a Ferrari. Maybe a Mercedes too. And I’ll take you out in them, wherever you want to go. We could drive down the coast, spend the weekend in our beach house. Or maybe out to the countryside, nice and peaceful and quiet. And if we stay at home I’ll take you out shopping. We’ll go to all the high-end stores and buy everything we want. Shoes and jewels and fur coats and everything." You leaned your head on his shoulder as he spoke, “That sounds wonderful,” “You haven’t heard the best part though,” “Oh?” He dropped his head down, lowering his voice so only you could hear him, “Haven’t even mentioned how I’ll fuck you in the change rooms of all those fancy shops. A hand over your mouth to keep you quiet because we both know how loud you get.” It was a mark of how long it had been that you began panting just from feeling his breath against your ear, “Looks like this car has enough room in the backseat. Just in case the shops are closed.” He stood up straight again, laughing, “Maybe we’ll sneak in there later. Shame I’m not rich already, could’ve just paid off the security so he’d give us a few moments alone with the car.” You knew he was joking about sneaking into the car but it didn’t help you calm down at all. Roger must have sensed your need, had probably been able to feel it seeping out of your skin, because he spent the rest of the day teasing you with small touches and whispered comments. He may have given up the teasing and just fucked you except that the number of people and the amount of security hired kept you from finding anywhere even remotely appropriate. The bathrooms were too crowded, extra portaloos hired and placed around the side of the building to accommodate everyone, and the back of the building faced the carpark and had a constant stream of people passing by or standing around directing traffic and loiterers. You considered suggesting the backseat of his car again but your head and thighs ached at the thought. After a final quick look around inside you decided to call it a day and head home where there was plenty of space and a big comfortable bed waiting.

By the time you arrived home it was early evening, your feet sore despite wearing your most comfortable pair of shoes. Roger’s stomach grumbled as he walked you to your front door, a loud reminder that neither of you had eaten more than a few snacks vendors had been selling at the show. “I had so much fun today,” he said, valiantly ignoring his stomach, “like an unbelievable amount of fun.” “Me too. Didn’t realise a car show could be quite that good,” you teased, “You wanna come in? Keep the fun going? We could get dinner, watch some TV,” “You’ve spent all day with me, sure you aren’t sick of me yet?” “Course not. Come on you sound like your starving and I’ve got a coupon for pizza stuck to my fridge,” “Well who am I to say no to that?” he said as he followed you inside, “where’s the coupon, I’ll call the order in.” “You don’t have to do that,” “No, no, let me. Least I can do to thank you for today. Any preferences?” “Uh, pepperoni if you don’t mind,” you called from the kitchen, returning with the coupon and handing it to Roger. “I definitely don’t mind, pepperoni is obviously the best,” Roger laughed and picked up the phone, as you quickly ducked into your room and made sure it was tidy. He followed you when he was done, peering into the living room and the kitchen as he searched for you. “Don’t have to clean up on my account,” You jumped a little at the sound of his voice behind you. “I’ve been in your room before, you’re much neater than me.” “Surprised you noticed the room enough to make that judgement,” “True, was always much more interested in you and how little you were wearing,” “Exactly,” you said, trying not to let on how fast your heart was racing at just the mention of the previous nights you’d spent together. “But I’m very messy,” Roger shot you a grin as he walked over to your desk, fingers brushing lightly over a few of the knickknacks you kept there before he moved to your modest bookshelf. You weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself as you watched him investigate your belongings, perching on the end of your bed, hoping he liked what he found. For the most part he just brushed his fingers lightly over your belongings, smiling softly and occasionally pausing to make a comment. He picked up the candle from your desk to smell it, complementing the scent as he put it back in its place. A few of the books on your shelf were pulled off and held up as he asked your opinions of them. He found a pair of your sunglasses and pushed them into his own face, checking himself out in your mirror before taking them off again, and then turned his attention to your record collection, spending much longer examining it than anything else. When he was done shuffling through the stack, making impressed hums when he found ones he particularly liked, he turned back to you. “Well I’m sorry to say but you have fantastic taste in music and I really have no other choice but to steal half of them,” “Is that so?” you asked, releasing a relieved breath, “Doesn’t seem fair,” “Well,” he walked the few steps towards where you still sat, leaning down until his lips were mere centimetres from yours, “it’s either that or you keep them and I fall madly in love with you.” The butterfly feeling returned, “Oh?” It was all you could manage to say. A loud knock from the front of the house interrupted you. “That’ll be the pizza,” you said quietly, torn between answering the door and closing the space between you. The decision was made when Roger’s stomach growled again. He dropped a quick kiss to your lips and then stood up with a small sigh.

If it had been up to you the night would have been spent snuggled up on the couch, eating pizza, drinking wine, and goofing around, until you retired to the bedroom and let the street hear you screaming Roger’s name. And you were pretty sure Roger’s mind was running along the same tracks. The only obstruction to your plan was the lack of sleep you’d both been suffering from, causing both of you to nod off before you could move from the couch. You woke in the morning, the TV no longer playing the comedy it had been left on but a test pattern card with odd organ music behind it. You blinked the sleep from your eyes as you tried to remember why you were on the couch and not in your bed, the night coming back to you as you sat up and realised you’d been curled up with your head on Roger’s thigh. He woke with a start when you stood up to stretch and turn off the TV. “Y/N?” he voice was still thick with sleep, eyes bleary and hair all over the place as he lifted his head from what must have been an uncomfortable position. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. We fell asleep on the couch.” “Oh, right,” “You can go back to sleep if you want,” “Nah, ‘m up now. Bathroom?” “Just through that doorway over there.” Roger nodded his thanks as he yawned and, rubbing his eyes, headed off. You grabbed the last of the, now cold, pizza and the wine glasses and followed him towards the kitchen, dropping the leftovers on the bench before turning to stick the kettle on. When he returned to the kitchen he looked marginally more alert, hair not quite the bird’s nest it had been when he woke. He dropped a kiss to your temple. “D’you want breakfast?” you asked, peering into the fridge, “I can do eggs on toast.” “Only if it’s no trouble,” “Not at all,” you grabbed the carton of eggs and the butter before you closed the fridge, “if you make the tea.” “I can do tea. Make a pretty good cuppa if I do say so myself.” “So you’re a tea connoisseur now?” “Never said that, where do your mugs live?” “Cupboard on the left,” “Ah ha,” there was a tinkling as he pulled out two, “All I’m saying is I’m good at making tea.” “Rog it’s adding boiling water to bagged leaves, not sure you can be bad at it,” “Well tell that to John. He’s a fantastic bassist but Jesus every cuppa he’s ever made me has tasted like shit.” You laughed, glancing away from the stovetop to watch Roger move about your kitchen like he belonged there. True, that might have been to do with how similar your kitchen was to his, most of the student accommodation in the area having the same basic layout, but it was nice all the same. “How do you take it?” “Uh,” your first thought was something entirely too inappropriate for so early in the morning, “dash of milk, two sugars,” “Coming right up.”

“So,” you said, dragging the word out as you brought your plates down to the table, Roger already there with the mugs of tea. “So, what?” Roger imitated your lengthened word, an amused lilt to his voice. “Dunno, you got any plans for today?” “Meeting the boys a bit later, band stuff. Might try and squeeze in a nap at some point. No offence but your couch isn’t overly comfortable to sleep on, although the cute girl using me as a pillow did help,” You giggled as he nudged your foot with his, it really was unfair how attractive he looked even when ruffled from a night on the couch. “What about you? Any plans?” “Oh, uhhh,” you didn’t have anything specific but couldn’t very well tell Roger you’d kept the day open in case he’d wanted to stay in bed with you for the better part of it, “Think my friends said something about going out for coffee, so I’ll see if they’re still keen for it.” “Oh yeah? Do these friends know about me?” “They know I’ve kind of had a thing going on and they know I was avoiding a particular guy for a while, but I haven’t, like, actually told them about you yet. Wanted to wait until I knew we were going to be okay, y’know?” “Yeah, I get that.” There was a moment of almost silence, the only sounds those of your knives and forks scraping across your plates. Your brain was suddenly much louder than it had been a second before, full of thoughts about whether or not you should tell your friends about Roger when you saw them, nerves about theoretically introducing them to him and then, oh god, introducing him to your family, having to meet his, all the stuff that a proper relationship would mean, all the stuff you’d been trying to run from when you’d cancelled that date. But there wasn’t really any way to go back now without everyone getting even more hurt than last time, he’d twice now said he was falling for you and, though you hadn’t vocalised it, you thought maybe you were falling for him too. But of all the thoughts jumbled in your head, the loudest by far was the realisation you’d be going another day without getting laid. It was torture. You’d got so close last night and god you wanted it so much. You had a brief vision of sweeping everything off the table, plates and cutlery hitting the floor, and Roger instantly pushing down your pants and lifting you onto the clear surface, his fingers slipping into your underwear and - Roger broke the silence and pulled you from the fantasy, “If you wanted you could come over tonight. I’ll make you dinner,” You shook your head to clear it, “really? “Yeah, really. I’ll even let you rummage through all my junk like I went through yours,” “Sounds fun, I’ll be there,” “Cool, uh, I think I should get home around three-thirty, so any time after that.”

Roger helped you tidy up the dishes before he left, another lingering kiss your souvenir, in addition to the desperate need to get off. You attempted to kill some time doing just that, but nothing seemed to be enough. It wasn’t Roger. You wanted Roger. And as lovely and terrifying a sentiment as that was, it did mean you had to go to meet your friends completely worked up and wet. When you told Roger later, sleepily blurting it out while curled up in his arms that night, he chuckled and, though it was dark, you could tell he was grinning. The same grin he’d been wearing when you knocked on his door that afternoon. “Is Freddie here?” you asked as he led you towards the couch. “No, just us. I’ve kicked the others out for the night. Freddie’ll end up staying with Bri or John, they were still arguing about it when I left them.” “Arguing?” you fell into the seat beside Roger, toeing off your shoes and curling your legs up under you, angling your body to face where he was leaning against the arm of the couch, one leg bent in front of him, one touching the floor. “Something about John’s girlfriend, I think, or maybe it was Brian’s roommate? I don’t know, I didn’t hang around to listen, they’ll sort it out,” he waved his hand dismissively, “But that means more food for us.” “So what are you making me then?” “Well, actually,” he glanced away, hand slipping into his shirt to rub his shoulder, “was thinking I’d order some takeout. There’s really nothing to cook with in the fridge and I’m a terrible chef anyway. I could offer you toast but the chance of it being edible is about fifty fifty. But there’s the chippy a few streets away or, um, an alright curry place, whichever you prefer.” “Fish and chips sounds good. I’ve eaten nothing but cake and coffee today so anything savoury would be brilliant really.” “So your friends were free then? How’d it go?” “Yeah, really fun. You might have been mentioned once or twice,” “Only once or twice?” “Once or twice is practically unstoppable gushing for me. They’re both insisting on meeting you, by the way, so that’s something to look forward to I guess,” you scrunched your nose up in discomfort. “I’d love to meet them,” he said, taking your hand leaning towards you, “And you’ve got nothing to worry about, they’ll love me. I’m very loveable.” You let yourself relax as you laughed, Roger joining in as he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, fingers trailing down your jaw, kissing you softly.

It should have come as no surprise that you’d end up making out within minutes of arriving. The weeks since you’d last slept together plus the unfulfilled tension from the previous night all boiled down to a neediness you couldn’t remember feeling with anyone else, the soft kiss fast becoming firmer as you found yourself underneath Roger, fingertips digging into his back. He was grinding against you rhythmically, your skirt pushed further up your thighs, trying to pull you tighter against him, breathing getting more ragged with each passing moment. It felt good but there were too many clothes in your way, you needed more. A whine fell from your lips unexpectedly. “Someone’s a bit desperate,” Roger said, tone vaguely mocking, giving you just a hint of the teasing control he usually showed you, “should we move this to my room?” “God yes,” He grinned and planted another kiss against your lips before he pushed himself to his feet, pulling you up by your hand, not letting go until you were standing in the doorway of his room. It was similar to your own room in that it faced the back yard, a big glass door leading outside. The biggest difference was the curtain, open to let the sun in but no doubt it actually existed. Roger dropped your hand to cross the room and you turned your attention to the rest of it, tempted to rummage through his belongings the way he’d examined yours. If you hadn’t been so worked up you would have but instead you stepped into the room and glanced around, killing time until Roger was back against you. It wasn’t neat but it wasn’t as messy as you’d been led to believe it would be and you wondered how long he’d spent tidying it. The bookshelf wasn’t full and yet not all the books were lined up, some of them stacked in uneven piles, some leaning against others, no discernible order to them, though you could spot a few titles you recognised from your own collection. His desk held a stack of textbooks and a few loose pages of handwritten notes, and you could easily imagine him hunched over as he studied, scribbling down things he recognised as important even if his tired eyes and brain couldn’t fully comprehend them. Your gaze had just fallen on the neatest part of the room, his collection of records all meticulously lined up and just begging to be rifled through, when a noise drew your attention. Roger checked the back door was locked and drew the curtain over it, blocking out the view of the back garden and the natural afternoon light. Your stomach did a flip. “We, uh, we’ve never had so much privacy,” you tried to make it sound like a joke, though you weren’t sure you succeeded, suddenly feeling too nervous to speak properly. “Yeah, s’pose that’s true,” he gave a small half shrug and took the few steps towards you, stopping just in front of you, “but that’s okay. We’ll make it work,” and then his lips were on yours, the rough neediness almost forgotten as he held your face, reassuringly rubbing his thumb over your jaw. It helped you relax again, stoking your desire though you couldn’t help thinking things would be vastly different with an empty house and closed curtains. Your fingers fell to his belt, blindly struggling to unbuckle it, but Roger grabbed your wrist. “Hey, there’s no rush, okay?” “I know but it’s been so long,” it wasn’t a lie, it had been far too long, but that wasn’t the only reason you wanted to speed things up. You didn’t mention that you were nervous about your dynamic changing with the privacy, worried it wouldn’t be as good if you weren’t being controlled or degraded or performing for someone. “So you won’t mind waiting a little longer then,” You whined as his lips brushed over your neck, his hands still holding your wrists, “Please, I need you,” “Patience, love. First time I’ve had my slut all to myself, can’t blame me for wanting to take my time.” Your breath hitched at the name and the casual way it was said, not expecting to hear it when you were so closed off from the world and he was being so deliberately, infuriatingly, slow. It made your head spin. He let your wrists go, moving his hands to your shirt and pulling it up over your head, fingers trailing softly down your sides to toy with the waistband of your skirt. “Good girl for wearing this, you’re learning.” The praise made you shiver but it was nothing compared to his touch. Every light brush of his fingers made you want him more, had you almost vibrating with need, but he refused to speed up or even touch you where you most wanted him. And you melted into it, hovering on the edge of begging, surprised at how easily he could play you but not really surprised at all. Yes, it was just you and Roger with no one to see or overhear, none of that tension you loved so much that came with the possibility of being walked in on or caught out. But you didn’t miss it.

Your hands once again slipped to his belt and this time he let you undo it, taking the chance to tug his own shirt off as he kicked the discarded pants across the floor, before he slipped your skirt down your legs, kneeling as he did so, leaving a single big bruise on the inside of your thigh. He leaned back to admire the mark and you stepped out of the material pooled around your feet. For a fraction of a second you thought he was finally going to give you something real, his breath ghosting over the front of your underwear as he leaned towards you, still looking up at you, blue eyes glinting. “Hop on the bed, love,” He chuckled as he pushed himself to his feet, listening to you whine and curse even as you did exactly what he told you to. You didn’t stop complaining until his weight was over yours again, your legs trying to wrap around him and pull him against your throbbing cunt. He just held your legs down and laughed softly, “You’re still just a desperate slut aren’t you. Little bit pathetic how much you want me after a couple of weeks without. But no, you don’t get my cock that quickly. I told you I want to take my time.” “You want me too,” you whined, sounding nowhere near as convincing as you’d hoped, “I can feel how hard you are.” “Yes, I want you. Of course I do, love, been thinking about it since you came over the other morning.” Roger resumed the grinding he’d started out on the couch, dragging his cock along your folds, still too many layers between for you to be satisfied. It was torture, but no matter what you tried he wouldn’t give you more, “But there’s this little thing called delayed gratification, you might have heard of it.” “You’re such an arsehole,” you half whined, half laughed as he chuckled into your neck, doing his best to leave you with another mark. “Well, yeah. That’s not news. Maybe I’ll let you have my fingers though, since you have waited such a long time,” “Please, I need something, anything,” “Add ‘begs easily’ to the list of things I love about you,” he left a kiss against your neck and then shuffled backwards. He paused, glancing down to your underpants and then back to your chest. “What?” “You’re still wearing a bra. Can’t have that.” “Oh,” you giggled, “easily fixed,” you sat up and quickly unhooked the clasp behind your back, shrugging it from your shoulders and adding it to the clothing that littered the once clean floor. “Thank god for easy fixes,” Roger said softly, pushing his fingertips against your shoulder until you leaned back far enough for him to drag his tongue over one nipple. “Hey, you said fingers,” you whined. “You said anything,” he grinned back at you, “but I guess fingers could work too.” You hissed when he pinched your other nipple and pulled on it, gently biting on the first, “Rog, please,” He ignored you in favour of dipping his lips to the inside of one breast, sucking at the skin until another purple bruise formed.

Roger shuffled back further and you squirmed at the thought of finally, finally getting what you needed. Just the motion of him hooking his fingers into your underpants to pull them down had your stomach tightening with anticipation. As soon as they were free of your legs he held them up, “soaked,” was all he said before they too were discarded and he was settling into place between your legs. You could feel his warm breath against your pussy as he dragged a single finger between your folds, a whine escaping you as your frustration grew. And then the finger was slipping inside you, so easily it made Roger whine himself. “God you really are soaked. I was just teasing before but Jesus,” “M-more,” was all you could think to say, stuttering it out as you bucked your hips. “Patience, love,” he reminded you but added a second finger, pumping them into you slowly, still not enough. Your back arched as you tried to readjust your position so he’d hit the spots you knew he could but he just placed his other hand on your thigh, stroking you softly until you relaxed again. “Tell me what you want, love,” “More, please,” “More of the same? Just my fingers?” “N-no no,” “Then tell me,” “Your cock, please, want you to fuck me now,” the sentence devolved into a whine as he pulled his fingers from you, pausing to push off his underwear, and crawled back up the bed, hovering over you. Once again you tried to wrap your legs around him, arms around his neck to pull him closer, but this time he didn’t stop you. Instead Roger lined himself up and sunk into you, as easily as his fingers had, his hands slipping up to your sides. He dropped his mouth to your neck and then your jaw and then your lips as he slid his arms under your back to hold you tight. “My good, patient, girl. Fuck your cunt feels so good.” he said softly, quickly finding your lips again as he fucked you steadily. You whimpered at the praise, finally getting what you’d so badly wanted as you clawed at Roger’s back, making sure he wouldn’t pull away too far. Though he’d started off intentionally slowly, deliberately working you up before he’d even finished undressing you, now that he was finally inside you, finally where you both wanted him to be, he’d lost all of his methodical pace. His hands were on your back and then one was on your arse and then your breasts, unsure where he wanted to touch you most. He was kissing you passionately one moment and the next he was whispering filth into your ear, praise and degrading names alike, thoughts broken up by small hickeys sucked into your skin. The second it occurred to him that something might drive you wild he was doing it.

It didn’t take long for you to cum, so much pent-up desire coursing through your bloodstream that you fell over the edge easily when he hitched your leg higher on his hip. It changed the angle he was hitting you just enough to have him rub against your wall, a jolt running through you and stealing your breath. “So pretty when you cum, can you show me again?” You nodded, unsure you’d be able to form words if you tried. Small aftershocks were still making you whimper into Roger’s shoulder and yet you could feel the same tingly warmth building again already. “Oh,” the sharp sound escaped you when Roger’s thumb brushed over your clit, his breath hitching as you clenched around him, “Rog, god, ke- keep doing that,” He brushed your clit again and smiled as your head fell back, a low moan tumbling from you when he began rubbing it properly. All you could hear was rough uneven breaths, not sure they were yours or Roger’s, the sound dulled under your heart beating in your ears. And then suddenly you were there again, moans getting louder as you crept closer to the edge and fell over it. Roger’s eyes were squeezed shut as he thrust into you a few more times, extending the ecstasy you felt until he hit his own climax, coating your walls and gasping in your ear.

For a while neither of you moved, just lay there trying to clear your foggy minds. When he realised he was still laying on you, Roger carefully extracted himself and rolled onto his back, an arm stretched out, inviting you to cuddle up close. You did, humming lightly when he gently rubbed your arm. “So, was that good? Even with the closed curtains?” “Mmhmm, might go so far as to say unbelievably good.” “Any other adjectives you wanna throw out there? Mind-blowing maybe? Or Incredible? The best you’ve ever had?” When the giggles subsided, Roger continuing a little more seriously, “I really liked it too, y’know, having my girlfriend to myself and all.” You’d been expecting to feel anxious when the G word eventually got used. After all, it represented so much of what had made you nervous enough to run away, what still made you nervous about dating and what it might eventually lead to. But there wasn’t really any anxiety or worry when you actually heard it, maybe a small pang in your stomach but you barely noticed it. Instead you could have sworn your heart skipped a beat, “Girlfriend?” “Yeah,” you could hear the smile in his voice, “that okay?” You quickly flipped onto your front, bringing you face to face with Roger, “More than okay. Say it again?” “My girlfriend,” he grinned as he spoke and you felt an equally large smile stretch your own cheeks in response. “My boyfriend,” “Yeah, like the sound of that,” You kissed him hard, not quite believing how far you’d come since he’d first caught you masturbating or how much you liked being with him, dating him. “Y’know, I think we could fit in another round before we need to worry about dinner,” he traced his finger along your shoulder as if he were playing connect the dots with the hickeys he’d left you, “Two maybe. You always cum fast when I use you rough.”

#my writing #roger taylor smut #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #(lowkey have a couple ideas for blub/hc things maybe #)

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har-rison-s · 5 years

Text

lasagna evening

request: Could you write some domestic fluff with adult stan uris

A/N: (2020 edit: this was my first ever stanley writing :>) Man oh man do i love this concept. ajsndfjsdf i love, i just love. I apologise for the title lmao i dont have any other ideas alsdfsdjn. This is so fluffy and cliché that you're going to die :D Btw, gifs of Andy Bean are very hard to find and I'm mad about it. Hope this is what you were looking for. Happy reading!

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“Honey, I'm home!” Stan says in a louder voice so his loved one could hear him. For she's known to often leave music playing loudly through their apartment and go into another room to do something. He hears the smooth voice of Billie Holiday singing about autumn in New York and he smiles to himself, kicking off his shoes. The music is loud enough for her not to hear him at all.

He walks into the kitchen, both hands holding a grocery bag tightly until he puts them both on the center counter. Her music is playing right in front of him, just a few feet between him and the sound system.

“Baby!” He calls again. Stan leaves the bags be and they crinkle a bit, the products falling on top of one another. He walks over to the sound system and turns the song's volume down. And he hears her humming. It's coming from her study.

Stan jogs a little down the hallway to get to her and reaches the door frame of her study. He peaks his head in. “Babylove,” he says and smiles immediately upon seeing his girl sitting on her carpet, her back turned to him, still humming and obviously hunched over something.

She whips her head around and smiles wide. There's a wicked glimmer in her eyes. “Honey!” She squeals and hurriedly gets up from her position, almost falling over her own legs, and tip-toes over to her one and only.

He leans in to steal a kiss from her soft angel lips and she still has to stand on her tip-toes for him to succeed. She embraces him then, her arms around his neck, and smiles wide. Stan recieves a loving kiss on the cheek and smiles, too. His eyes are full of love for the woman in front of him.

“What are you doing in here?” He asks, his hand going in slow circles over her back.

“Before you turned my music down,” she says, pouting and pointing her index finger into the middle of his chest, “I was listening to Billie and making another small sculpture.” She smiles, proud of herself.

“You're getting inspired again?” Stan raises his eyebrows in happy surprise and his love nods, biting her bottom lip. “So, who's the muse?”

“You, silly.” She says and they both laugh. She notices Stan already glancing behind her shoulder to see what she's making. To not spoil the surprise, she brings his eyes back to her, holding his chin softly. “It's not finished yet. When it will be, you'll be the first to see. And you know that.”

“Of course. You know I'm impatient about seeing your art.” He tells her and tickles her sides a little, making her giggle in the most beautiful way.

“So,” she claps her hands, “what are we making tonight?”

“Hmm, let's see...” Stan pretends to think, “seeing as I bought the ingredients for lasagna, I guess we're making... lasagna?” He squints, teasing his girl. She laughs and kisses him on the cheek again. And then all over his face, which makes Stanley laugh instead.

When he's about to plead for breath, she stops and grabs his hand, closing her study door with the other. She drags them both back down the hallway and lets go of Stan's hand to turn the volume higher. Stan gives her a mock-annoyed look, but they both laugh.

One of the billion, trillion things he loves so much about his girl is her energy and youthfulness. They're only two years apart, but Stanley has always felt older than he actually is. And he wanted to enjoy his youth when it was happening, but a lot of things kept him from it.

Her youthfulness and eagerness and sort-of hyperactivity brings joy in his life. Makes him happy about still being here, having a life. She's brighter than the sun to him in many ways.

“Do you have the recipe?” Stan asks her as they're unpacking the groceries.

“Uh-huh, I printed it out. It should be next to the sink.” She replies, pulling tomato after tomato out of the bag.

“Terrible place for a paper to be, if you ask me.” He tells her, but she only laughs. Stan walks over to the sink and sure enough, there is a page with a recipe printed on it. And it's not wet. He quickly goes over the ingredients and steps. “So how was work today?”

She works as a museum manager/administrator in a pottery museum in town. Taking that she's an artist herself, she needs to be in an artistic place and area at all times. An administrator might not seem like the job to you, but to her it's the perfect one that pays the bills and takes her on holidays with her loved one. Many artists to meet, artworks to see and inspiration to suck in.

“Quite amazing. You know I met that one artist I've always wanted to host at my museum—”

“Emily Lacey?” Stan finishes instead of her. She nods.

“Yup. And she's even more lovely than I thought she'd be. She's got great sense of humor, a great sense of style, of course, and turns out we have a lot in common.” She tells him. Stan smiles, watching her rush around the kitchen and talk. “She likes to read books, go to the cinema, travelling, hiking.”

“Wow, you two are basically twins.” He states.

“I know, right?” She looks at him with wide eyes, clearly excited. Stanley chuckles. “How was your day?” She asks him.

“It was good.” He says. “Better now that I'm home.” Stan states and they share a look of love and knowing. “The book is coming along well, there's not much left. And I had to teach a new class today! All the kids were sweethearts.”

“How old were they?” She asks and, while doing so, gives Stan a piece of dough to flatten out. They both start working on a piece.

“Uh, they're... I think second or third grade, so eight to nine.” Stan says in between grunts of pushing the wooden roll on the dough. “Why such a question?”

She shrugs. “Just wondering. Thought they'd put you in a college now.” She admits, and huffs.

“Huh.” He turns to her, puts the roll down and crosses his arms over his chest. “Don't you think I'm good enough for primary school?”

She laughs and huffs again. “No, I think you're more than good enough for primary school, and better than perfect for teaching college kids ornithology.” She tells him, honestly.

“Listen, it's nothing wrong with me.” Stan insists, pointing at his chest and raising his eyebrows. “Ornithology is not the most desired class in college, even for biology majors. So they have one professor in each college that isn't exactly an ornithologyst, but knows enough and can memorise texts from books. And they put that guy to teach ornithology if it's at all necessary.” He explains in detail.

“But that is so unfair! I bet you're not the only ornithologyst without a chance to teach in college, and they put some knock-offs in your place.” She justifies.

“You have a fair point.” Stanley agrees. She smiles wide.

“I know. You gotta fight for your rights, hon.” She tells him. “We both know that your passion is ornithology and that you're an actual ornithologyst. They should let, whoever's in charge of it, the people who really know what they're talking about teach ornithology. It makes a huge difference for the kids.”

“Listen, if your artist carrier ever flakes, you should become an education politican.” Stan says upon restarting to flatten the dough. His love laughs out loud, holding her tummy. Stanley only smiles wide to himself.

“Can you even imagine me dressed in formal clothes everyday, having that politician-lady haircut, wearing glasses and talking in a very serious voice about the issues of today?” She asks him, mimicking the way politicians speak in the last part. She even makes a funny face. “I could never. I mean, yeah, they pay you like, crazy money, but I'd never do that.” She shakes her head, still quietly laughing to herself. Stanley keeps smiling.

Merely two hours later, the couple have finished their lasagna. They had put on their food-making playlist, which is basically a playlist full of songs that they know all the lyrics to and sing together to at the top of their lungs. Includes ABBA, Queen, David Bowie, Journey, Elton John and many, many others.

They're happily setting the coffee table in the living room, and they're almost finished. Stan is already turning on the TV, wrapped in a blanket and waiting for his one and only to join him.

She's still getting them forks and spoons, and when she has, she turns off all the lights in the apartment. Except for the little light in the kitchen above the stove, that one always stays on.

She tip-toes—a habit of hers that is not entirely healthy for her feet—into the living room and puts the instruments down on the table. She collapses into Stan's open, waiting arms with a happy sigh. He wraps the blanket around her and keeps his arm around her, too.

Her fingers push between his and they lock together. As if their hands were crafted just to be interlocked with the other's, no one else's. They feel like they're made for each other.

Stanley presses a kiss into her hair. “What are we watching tonight?” He asks, his cheek now pressed where his lips just were.

“Hmm,” she thinks and watches Stan browsing through movies and tv-shows on the screen, “something funny. Don't you think?”

“Yeah, we always watch dramas.” He agrees. “I'm kinda sick of you making me cry every other evening.” Stan admits then, and they both laugh. Stan yawns.

“Do you have a favorite?” She questions, looking up at him. He looks down at her and almost gets hypnotised. Looking at her makes him go a bit weak, every and anytime. The years spent together either don't do anything to help it or even give more to the effect.

“I don't watch that many comedies, not my favorite genre.” He tells her as his hand caresses the side of her face. She closes her eyes to that. “You can choose. Show me your favorite!” He suggests and she smiles. “Just not anything dumb, okay? I know you like those a lot, but, please, spare me.”

She looks at him and rolls her eyes playfully. “Alright, alright.” She agrees and turns to lay on her stomach, over Stan's lap and takes the remote from his hand. “I'll spare your soul from the doom of dumb comedy movies, my prince.” She teases and Stan smiles. “Aha!” She exclaims upon finally finding the movie she was looking for.

She pushes the 'play' button and reaches for their two plates of lasagna while the intro plays. She straightens her back, sitting normally just like Stan and giving him his lasagna piece.

“Hear ye, hear ye. Feast your eyes and ears with the wonder that is Bruce Almighty!” She theatrically introduces the movie. She likes Shakespeare and Old English, despite that she may not be the best at using it right. Stan smiles at her.

They lean in to steal a few kisses from each other before indulging in their home-made (hopefully, well-made) lasagna and the world of Jim Carrey's comedy.

Permanent taglist: @v0idbella @inlovewithmiddleagedcelebs @works-of-fanfiction @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @stfxlou @ur-gunna-h8-ths@empressdreams @betweenloveandfire @but-legendsneverdie@deardeacy @thewinchesterchronicles @mavieesttriste16@mrsmazzello@benhardyseyes @langdonzvoid @intrrverted @the-freak-cassie-131

A/N: Tell me why everytime I look at a picture of Stanley Uris, I immediately want to cry. Oh my God. heurehuherufshfsdh.

#stanley uris #stan uris #stanley uris x reader #stan uris x reader #stanley uris imagines #stanley uris imagine #stan uris imagines #stan uris imagine #adult!stan uris imagine #adult!stanley uris imagine #adult!stan uris x imagine #adult!stanley uris x reader #it imagine #it imagines #it chapter two imagine #it chapter two imagines #the losers club imagine #the losers club imagines

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