#i wish i could just ... say or do anything to make it better. say anything else than 'i'm sorry'
Text
The little bean: Anthony Bridgerton x pregnant!wife!reader
A/N: So..... After my "Too much" series I've been asked to do something with Antony and pregnancy trope. And since 1) I got baby fever and 2) Bridgertons are back, there is no better time than now.
***
“Y/N, my love, what are you doing?”
“I’m holding a book…?”
Ever since Y/N found out she was pregnant with the heir (which she would rather address as her precious little baby, instead of giving him titles before he or she was even born) Anthony entered right into an overprotective mood. If anything he would just keep her home, away from any prying eyes, that – in his opinion – might somehow take a look inside, at his baby and perhaps, see the little one before it came into the view of a proud viscount father.
Y/N could barely walk around the Bridgerton household, let alone the garden, without her husband chasing after her with a very concerned look, ready to carry her wherever she wished, just so that her feet wouldn’t touch the ground.
There were so many dangers on the way after all.
Wild animals. (i.e. bees, dogs and strays cats)
Speeding carriages.
Stones on which she might trip and fall.
Too much sun.
Too little sun.
And worst of all-
Members of the ton.
It was merely the first trimester and viscountess was torn between calming Anthony down (tactfully avoiding the information that the next months will be much more challenging) or just rushing away to her mother-in-law (yet, again) to seek aid in keeping him in check.
And just when she thought the oldest Bridgerton could not get any more obsessive, he took the lecture she was reading out of her hands.
“My dear, you cannot carry such weights. It’s straining and I am to protect you from threats.”
“It’s a book…” she frowned a little, but not without a hint of amusement in her voice
“It’s heavy.”
“It's a 200 page novel…”
“It’s heavy.” Anthony’s voice was gentle, but firm. Both demanding and pleading.
“Anthony…”
“Y/N.”
“I can hold my own book.”
“We got servants for that. In fact – let me call upon your maid and –“ he started walking towards the door in sheer purpose to liberate his dearest wife from the unnecessary burden.
Nonetheless his dearest wife had quite a different plan, reaching to grab his hand and stopping him in his tracks.
“My love. Please, come. Let us sit.” She guided him to the ottoman, still keeping the soft touch that was grounding to him.
Much to her surprise Anthony rushed to the furniture first, fixing pillows and blankets so Y/N could sit comfortably. And apparently that word, in his language, meant sitting half a meter in the air, covered from head to toe, regardless of the perfect spring weather outside.
“Here. Perfect.” He flashed a perfect smile, content with the spot he made for her.
“Anthony…”
“Yes, my love?” as he spun around meeting with her desperate look, the smile slowly disappeared from his face. “Y/N? Are you not feeling well?” Anthony grabbed both her hands in his, searching her face for any symptoms of malaise, dizziness, nausea. “Do you need some water? Or-“
“No, no, Anthony, please just listen to me for a moment-“
“Perhaps I should call upon Daphne, she already had a child of her own and she would be of help. Or maybe my mother could-“
“Anthony!” she laughed whole-heartedly at his feverishness “I am not going to give birth in the fourth month of pregnancy! Please just calm down.”
“Just say a word and I’ll call for a medic immediately. Do not fret my dearest, I will take the best care of you. I swear on my life that-“
At that moment Y/N used the most effective way to stop his blubbering in the form of putting his hand on her slightly rounded belly in which their baby was healthily growing.
“Shh.” She whispered, putting her own palm on top of Anthony's, calming him down, letting him caress the stomach in hope to make him calm down. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. I don’t need medic. Nor your mother. And certainly not your younger sister. I am feeling good and the only thing that concerns me is my husband's distress over nothing.”
“Nothing? You are carrying our baby!”
“And our baby needs his father to stop fretting.”
“But-“
“Here!” her eyes grew wide as she guided his hand to another place “did you feel it?”
“Was it--?” Anthony’s face expression mirrored the one of his wife.
“It kicked…” she whispered as their gazes met and for a second that extended into eternity, they just kept looking into each other’s eyes expressing so many feelings.
And then, almost as if in a dream, Anthony fell to his knees in front of Y/N, pressing his head into her belly.
“Our baby.” He whispered, kissing her body through the material of the dress. “our little baby.” He wrapped arms around her midsection with his ear pressed to the home of the child, almost hoping to hear him or her inside.
“Our baby…” she repeated with tears in her eyes. Despite knowing and obviously – feeling the imminent arrival of the new family member it was the first time she actually felt and knew. And it was beautiful. Her little bean was really there. Growing and waiting for the right moment to appear in the world, landing right into the waiting, safe arms of loving mother and father.
“Do you think it can hear us?” Anthony pressed one ear to her stomach, his entire face lighting up at the possibility.
“Depends.” She chuckled
“On what?” his eyes travelled up to meet hers.
“If I say yes, will that mean you start talking to my insides?”
Anthony smirked.
“I will do that, even if you say no.”
“Then why the question?”
“Testing your knowledge.”
“I am not a doctor, Anthony. My expertise in the area might be a little limited.”
“Very well. Then give me an answer as a mother, not a medic.”
“Yes. Yes, I think it can hear us.” She cupped Anthony’s cheek in the affectionate gesture. There was something utterly heartening in seeing him like this. Holding her (and/or the baby) like she was the most precious thing in the world, needing the assurance that his child was already reaching to him.
That it could hear him, even if it wasn’t even born yet. Hoping for the love of the Lord that it was truly happening. That in a few months, that were going to pass by with extraordinary speed, the little one, a girl or a boy, would take a corporal form. That the viscount would not only be a noble and a husband but would also take on the new role – a father. A protector. Caregiver. A teacher, guardian and a guide. That somehow – his life would be complete. He’ll have his own little family. Something that was nearly impossible to him a few years prior.
And now-
“Anthony…” Y/N whispered, wiping a single tear from his eyes. “Sweetheart, what is wrong?”
“Nothing. Nothing is wrong, love. It’s all perfect.”
“Then why are you-?”
“I’m not.” He cleared his throat and gathered himself.
“Of course not.” She laughed softly brushing his hair. “But if you’d want to actually talk to the baby, that would stay in this little circle.”
Anthony smiled lovingly, grateful for having his miracle of a woman in his life. She understood him so perfectly well.
“We’re waiting for you, little one.” He whispered against her attire, with a little muffled voice, be it from emotions or closeness of his lips on her body. “You are already loved by two people, with more to come.”
‘You can say it Anthony…” Y/N whispered, knowing what he was holding back.
“I love you my little one.” The viscount whispered with the softest voice, caressing the place where the kick was previously felt.
And they stood like that for a while longer, enjoying that moment of joy and thinking about the future that looked quite bright.
#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony x reader#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton#bridgerton#anthony x you#anthony bridgerton fluff
188 notes
·
View notes
Note
hey pookie love your writing and the memes you be adding at the end are sooo😭😭😭😭
I was wondering if you could write something about watching true crimes w Jude real fluffy and cute 🥺
sending you kisses 😚
i changed it up a bit! hope u don’t mind :3
—————————————————————
“babe, that shit’s fucked up.”
it is a normal saturday noon, and like always you and jude decided to spend your free day together. you wanted to get some coffee, he wants to shop for a bit, so naturally you combine both of your wishes.
getting ready in your bedroom, you sigh as you look at jude through the mirror. he himself looks quite comfortable laying on top of your bed sheets, his phone at hand. he knew that you like to listen to podcasts while getting ready, though he did nit know what kind of podcasts exactly.
“what do you mean, love?” you lean closer to the mirror as you do your lashes, determination written over your face.
jude scoffs, “unbelievable.” he mutters to himself as he gets up from your bed, moving closer to you as he watches you do your, whatever it is.
“that dude just said that some murderer gutted one of his victims with his mouth. and then ate him. like? the fuck?” he looks bewildered by the content you oh so calmly listen to, not really affected by anything.
finishing one eye, you turn around to look up at your boyfriend, his face showcasing how he feels about your podcast.
“bebé, it’s true crime, of course they describe how some stuff happened.” you explain, quickly pressing a kiss on his abdomen before turning around to finish your make up.
jude stays quiet for a while, just watching you do your thing, humming to yourself. the podcast is still playing in the background, the description if certain acts getting more and more detailed and even brutal.
he decides to speak up again, his imagination running wild as he listens to the words, “and you are not, y’know, affected by it?”
he steps closer to your body, massaging your shoulders with bis big hands, smirking to himself as you sigh and lean against his touch.
you shake your head, “no, it helps me relax and get ready faster.”
“relax, you say?” he raises his eyebrows, his hands now trailing down from your shoulders to the front of your neck, “i can help you relax even better, hm?”
you groan as you push away his hands, “not now, love, gotta get ready.”
he sighs and moves back to your bed, watching you get ready once more, “boring.” he says under his breath.
“shut it.”
“make me.”
“jude.”
“sorry.”
——————————————————
#jude bellingham#jude bellingham x reader#football x reader#football one shot#x reader#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham x you#football#jude bellingham fluff
236 notes
·
View notes
Text
Golden Hour
Jing Yuan | M. Reader
----------
Reincarnation AU
----------
There's a particular painting inside the Luofu Museum. It's a painting of the former General, they say that the General never smiles and always has a blank expression. That painting is the most precious and one of a kind in the whole world...
Why?
Because it's the only time...
Where the General finally smiles...
----------
"Huh... "Wise and Brave; Jing Yuan." Hey, wouldn't it be funny if he's actually you from the past?"
"Nonsense, we just have the same name."
[Name] turn his head towards the white haired man with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah.. Sure.. But you do have the same smile as him." He said as he look back at the painting in front of them.
The General in the painting looks almost identical to the man standing beside him down to the same smile. Then again, [Name] couldn't imagine Jing Yuan being all stoic like, a smile fits him better. "You know... They say that the General had fallen in love with the Strategist in the Xianzhou, some even say that the Strategist was the reason why he started smiling."
"Really?"
"It's just a myth though, don't know if it's true."
Jing Yuan chuckles at that statement, after all myths are just myths, there's no telling if it's real or not. It's probably fake, people usually make up things just to satisfy their own fantasies, but something in him tells him otherwise.
That maybe, just maybe... It's the truth.
.
.
.
.
.
"ARE YOU INSANE?!"
"It's the most optimal solution, General."
"BY SACRIFICING MY MEN!?"
"Losing a handful of soldiers are better than losing civilians, plus—isn't it their duty to give their live for the people and die in battle?"
"HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT WITH SUCH A CALM VOICE?!" The General huffs as he glared daggers at the man in front of him, the man who proposed the very strategy that practically sacrifices his men "for the greater good." Jing Yuan always wonder how this man is able to be the Strategist of the Xianzhou...
A man who stood to benefit from betraying others... It's not proven or anything and yet...
Jing Yuan is certain that he'd turn against the Reignbow Arbiter in a heartbeat...
There's isn't a sane bone in his body.
The other man sigh at Jing Yuan's response as he crosses his arms and spoke up with his usual calm yet firm voice. "And here I thought you'd be more reasonable, given that you're the General."
"The leader of an organization is at the pinnacle of it and, at the same time, he is its slave. The leader must be more than willing to commit any atrocity in order to ensure the organisation's survival."
He hates it.... He hates this man so much...
How could he talk about that so casually? As if these men... Were just mere pawns to him... After all sacrificing a few pawns means relatively little if it means your King's safety.
'He's not thinking about the people.. He's thinking about the Xianzhou Loufu's survival instead...'
"They were right about you... You're a wolf in sheep's clothing..." He started as he continues to glare daggers at the man. The man only gave him an unamused look as he asked in a calm voice. "And why would you think that?" Jing Yuan scoffed at the question as he crosses his arms. "Talking to you is impossible."
"But in all honesty, give my strategy some thought, General."
"There's nothing left to think regarding that. I want you to change it this instant."
The man sigh at the order he was given, he uncrossed his arms and took back the papers from the General's desk. "As you wish."
And with that... The man left his office.
Jing Yuan sigh as he put a hand on his forehead and look down at his wooden desk. "I can't believe that man... [Name] was it..?" He mumbled under his breath.
'It's as if a life meant relatively little to him.'
.
.
.
.
.
"I never knew you could be a skilled doctor.."
"I was the Head Physician before becoming your strategist, General."
"..."
The two fall silent as [Name] bandaged the general's wounds. It seems even the "Mighty General of the Loufu" can get hurt. How fascinating. Once he's done, [Name] lets out a sigh and puts back the supplies he had used. "I suggest you shouldn't go to any missions at the moment. Let your wounds heal."
Jing Yuan remains silent as he inspects his carefully treated wounds. The bandages aren't too tight, and his body isn't as sore anymore. [Name] might be a sociopath with the types of strategies he comes up with. But he's a wonderful physician. Maybe he should stay as one.
"Can't have you start bleeding out in the middle of a fight after all. Unless you wanted me to operate on you then go ahead."
Jing Yuan can't help but sigh at those words. Of course the doctor has to open his mouth and end it on that note... even if he's good, [Name]'s still a sociopath though..
"...Understood."
"Good."
.
.
.
.
.
The crowd was silent as they watched the starskiff flies to through the sky. Reaching greater heights. "Another sent of.." The doctor mumbled under his breath.
"Sad, isn't it?"
"Not really."
Oh you sociopath! Jing Yuan snapped his head towards him. He was about to argue until he saw a soft smile on the doctor's face. A soft. Melancholy. Smile.
"It's not sad. It's poetic." [Name] says softly as he watches the starskiff. "In a way, if you're at a loss, you could look up at the sky and.... remember that they're watching over you.. and there's nothing to be afraid of.." Turning his head towards the general, [Name] gave him a closed eye smile as his hair got caught in the wind. "It's almost romantic, is it not?"
Jing Yuan felt a strange and warm feeling on his chest. Without thinking, he returns the smile with his own. "If you put it that way.. it is kinda poetic.."
----------
"Well... I heard that the Strategist is far more worse than the General." Jing Yuan spoke up, making [Name] turn his head to look at him with a raised eyebrow. "Really?" He asked as he crosses his arms, waiting for am explanation. "Yup, they say that the Strategist is a sociopath. I've also heard that the General was the reason the Strategist began to have a "heart". " Jing Yuan concluded with a smirk on his face.
[Name] can't help but chuckle at those words. For some reason.. he had a feeling it was true..
#seme male reader#top male reader#hsr#hsr x male reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x male reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr jing yuan#jing yuan#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan x male reader#x male reader#x reader
215 notes
·
View notes
Note
Feel free to reject this, but can you write the housewardens x a reader with self harm scars? Maybe something like them comforting the reader or getting them to open up.
battle scars
masterlist | request rules | ko-fi
housewardens reactions to seeing your self harm scars
characters: leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, vil schoenheit, malleus draconia
warnings: mentions of self harm, please don't read if that makes you uncomfortable, angst to comfort, crying, azul's is extra angsty, i didn't do all the housewardens i hope that's okay anon<3
𝑳𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒂 𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒓
You wake up suddenly to light shining into the room. Slowly opening your eyes, you find the sun shining through the window. You groan and bury your face in Leona's chest, who's peacefully sleeping next to you.
You're about to fall back asleep when you feel the warmth of skin on one of your arms. Your eyes flick back open to see the shirt sleeve you were sleeping in must have ridden up your arm and is lying on top of Leona's.
You quickly bring your arm back and pull the sleeve back down to cover it. Glancing up at Leona, you let out a breath when it doesn't seem he's awake to have seen anything.
Sometimes you wish you could just delete the scars on you. They never bring happy memories, always there as a reminder of the mistakes you made in the past. You hated them and just wish you could erase them permanently. It's the reason why you wear long sleeves all the time. You can't stand for anyone to judge you.
Leona's always teasing you for wearing long sleeves all the time, but you can't bring yourself to stop, just wanting to cover up and stay hidden as long as possible.
You settle back into Leona when you start to feel sleep overtake you, but are startled awake again when you hear a grumble next to you.
"You shouldn't cover up," you stare up at Leona, whose eyes are still closed, wondering if you were hearing things. It's when his eyes flick open that you're sure he said it.
"What are you talking about?" you question him, trying to act like nothing's wrong and you don't know what he's saying. One side of his lips twitches upwards, letting out a small scoff.
"Why do you always wear long sleeves?" you're now fully aware of where the conversation is going, and you would do anything to not be talking about it.
He seems to notice your hesitance in answering the question, and instead of pushing it, he lets out a small sigh and closes his eyes again.
You're left to question exactly what he knows and how he could have found out before you hear him mutter one more thing.
"You shouldn't have to hide who you are; scars tell you what you went through and how you overcame it, it's nothing you should be ashamed of." With those words, he falls back asleep like nothing happened, and you're left to wonder how he found out and how long he's known, but you know he does have a point and as he brings you closer to him in his sleep, you think maybe you don't have to hide anymore. All thanks to the sleepy lion lying next to you.
𝑨𝒛𝒖𝒍 𝑨𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒐
You don't necessarily like big events, but you figured it was only to support Azul, so you let yourself be a part of it. That eventually turns out to be your worst mistake.
The guest list for the event includes everyone Azul could possibly get ahold of. It's obvious there's an elaborate business plan in place, but you don't know the exact details, so you decide to keep to yourself mostly.
It's not until you hear certain voices behind you that your body tenses up and goes rigid. No, it can't be. You slowly move to the other side of the table to get a better look.
One glance at the people and tears start forming in your eyes. You quickly get as far away as possible and eventually find the bathroom, tears clouding your vision.
You look in the mirror, and all your worst insecurities start floating to the surface, making more tears roll down your cheeks. You roll up your sleeves, still staring into the mirror, and can clearly see the deep scars on your arms, even with blurry eyes.
Through the whole ordeal, you don't hear the door being knocked on and the soft voice on the other side. All you can do is stare into the mirror, flashbacks coming back so violently that you would have fallen to the floor if not for the arms you feel around you.
A familiar scent overwhelms you, and you immediately know who it is, but you still don't have the strength to stop crying. You feel yourself slowly brought to the ground, sitting on Azul's lap with his arms around you, practically crushing yourself to his chest.
You don't know how long you stay there on the bathroom floor, but eventually, the warmth of Azul's body and the hands rubbing your back help you calm down. He doesn't force you to say anything, just keeps cradling you, but your voice starts talking before your brain can tell you not to.
You haven't told this to anyone before, but the way he's holding you makes you feel the safest, and you tell him everything. You tell him about how the people you saw at the event used to make fun of how you looked and gave you the deepest insecurities about yourself, which led to the scars covering your arms.
Azul's grip on you tightens at some parts of the story, but then immediately loosens as his hands start to move over the scars on your arms, gently going over them with his thumb.
You don't know how long you stay like that until your mind wanders to the event still going on, and you quickly sit up, accidentally scaring Azul out of the state he was in.
"The event—" You begin to speak, but Azul quickly shakes his head and shushes you.
"Don't worry about it, the event's completely fine. I was more worried about you." You eventually return to the event, Azul not leaving your side once, and you don't see the people that caused your bathroom meltdown… or either of the Leeches for that matter.
𝑽𝒊𝒍 𝑺𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒆𝒏𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒕
You didn't expect it to happen so suddenly. One moment you're sweating your ass off in gym, and then the next thing you know you're in a cool bed, with a concerned Vil hovering over you.
"What happened?" You attempt to sit up when you're hit with a wave of dizziness and are led back to lay down by Vil's hands.
"Don't move, you passed out on the field from heat exhaustion." You visibly see how distraught he is, and can't help but feel guilty by putting him in this position.
You feel yourself shiver slightly from the temperature of the room, and move to put your hands over your arms for some kind of heat. It's when you feel the smoothness of skin instead of the fabric of a shirt that you realize you're not wearing the sweater you usually wore.
You try your best to inconspicuously move your arms under the blanket, but you see the way Vil barely glances down at your arms, and tries his best to try to seem interested in something on the wall in front of him.
It's when he makes eye contact with you that you know. You break the eye contact, staring down at the sheets under you, not wanting to face him. You can't even begin to wonder what he would think about the darkest years of your life, forever a reminder and etched onto your body.
You don't notice the tears running down your cheeks until you feel Vil gently wiping them off your face.
"Please don't cry, pretty." Your heart clenches at the pet name, like it has many times before when he'd use it. The gentle tone in his voice makes more involuntary tears fall and no matter how hard you try, they won't stop.
He shushes you as he climbs into the bed next to you, bringing your body closer to him. The heat of his body starts to calm you, and you get as close to him as you could possibly get, not wanting to let go.
When he doesn't leave your side for the remainder of the day, and gets everything you need and want, you know you found your happy place and you never want to leave.
𝑴𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒔 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒂
You don't notice how late it's gotten until you hear rustling next to you, and a familiar figure takes a seat next to you. You didn't mean to stay out here this long, you got too lost in the feeling of the wind across your skin.
You know that Malleus is always here, so it makes sense that he would eventually show up, but you were planning on leaving before he got here. You don't think you can handle him seeing the scars that shown all up your forearms.
You start to stand, muttering something about not wanting to bother him when his arm shoots up to stop you, grabbing your wrist. The grip he holds is so gentle, not even using enough force to harm a butterfly, yet you still find yourself flinching away from his grasp.
He's visibly startled from your reaction as his arm shoots backwards away from you. It breaks you to see his reaction as he moved even further away from you.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" He starts apologizing, but you stop him before he can get any further.
"Please don't apologize, it's not your fault, it's entirely mine." You see Malleus' expression go from worry to confusion as he listens to you.
His gaze falls onto your arm, and you quickly cross your arms over your chest, wincing slightly at the dull burn you feel. Before you know it he's back in front of you, worry back on his expression.
"You're hurt." You can't stop him from carefully grabbing your arm and turning it around to look at it. "Who hurt you?" You want to cry from the innocence of the question, and can't stop the tears from actually falling.
You end up telling him everything and how you've been feeling like you're just bothering everyone with your problems. He listens intently to you, his thumb rubbing over your hand as he holds your wrist.
"Mortal lives are already so short as they are, please don't make yours any shorter, love." He brings one of his hands up to tilt your chin to face him. "Tell me if you're ever feeling like this, alright?" You nod with watery eyes as he brings you into his chest, engulfing you with his scent and warmth.
buy me a coffee ♡
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst azul#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul ashengrotto#azul x reader#twst x reader#disney twst#twst malleus#twst housewardens#malleus draconia#malleus draconia x reader#malleus x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#twst leona#leona kingscholar#leona x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#twst vil#vil schoenheit#vil x reader#twst angst#twst fluff#twisted wonderland fluff#twisted wonderland angst
164 notes
·
View notes
Note
ok ok but imagine being simon’s gf and könig just being so infatuated with u :( he likes you so so much, believes you deserve better than simon and just pines after you ^_^
very im on fire of him
könig’s never been one to be discreet about his feelings, especially toward you. he doesn’t owe simon anything, much less loyalty. his crush has become an inside joke amongst the crew, has gotten dirty looks thrown at him by simon too many times to count for being just slightly too touchy to be friendly, too intense in his yearning. tuning in intently whenever you talk, doing small favors for you whenever he gets the chance, asks after you when you’re gone. too close for comfort, oughta get himself in trouble, simon says.
its hard to ignore a stare that burns a hole in the side of your head, weighted like a caress on all the exposed parts of your body. könig gets some sort of satisfaction out of watching you squirm under his intense gaze, eyes trained on you most of the time he’s around, because at least he makes you feel something. he wishes to sliver underneath your skin and infiltrate your thoughts just as you’ve done to him, sending his emotions into haywire just by way of existing. smiling at him so brightly, extending a fraction of the warmth and kindness that comes naturally to you, craves it when he’s alone at night. your boyfriend can’t blame him.
simon’s weird, quiet coworker, helplessly infatuated with you, his too cute, too sweet, too soft girlfriend. could only dream of experiencing the parts of you that are exclusively for simon — wonders how someone like you even ended up with a man like him. looking far too out of place under his tattooed arm, bottom lip tucked between pearly teeth bashfully while he chats to the group of guys in typical boyish manner. the occasional ducks of his head to kiss your forehead when he remembers you’re there is not enough attention showed to such a pretty, doting thing like you, in könig’s humble opinion. it’s not even that he believes he’s better than him, but a selfish part of him would rather you end up in his calloused hands than anyone elses. his mind strays the longer he observes you, imagines all the ways he’d treat you better, take care of you like you deserve. would’ve probably already proposed to you by now given the chance. you might seem happy enough, but that doesn’t stop him from searching for cracks in the polished porcelain. always waiting for a spot to slip in.
he finally gets you alone one night, finds you where you wandered off into price’s basement to fetch more beer. coming behind you to grab the case from your delicate hands like lifting a feather off the ground.
“boyfriend not here to do this for you?”
after you regain your composure from the startle, you scoff, peering up at könig through your lashes. “just thought i’d do something nice for him.”
“sweet. does he always allow you to do a man’s job?” sarcasm bites at his words.
“allow me—?”
“do you think he even noticed your absence, maus?” he presses a bit harder, his face holding the same indifference it always does under his mask, tone flat around his accent. “as i did?”
his eyes search yours for a second, looking for any sign of reciprocation for his feelings, and somehow you can tell he knows you don’t know how to respond. as a show of mercy, he steps to the side to let you squeeze past his frame and up the stairs leading back inside the house, heavy footsteps following slowly behind. he watches as you so easily slip back into simon’s side, how his arm finds its home around your shoulders without effort. concern knits your boyfriend’s eyebrows together as he leans down to peck your lips, never breaking eye contact with könig over your shoulder, a petty display of ownership. he watches.
#bella writes⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚#this might’ve been a smut request but my brain went <3 unrequited love <3#simon x reader x könig#konig cod#konig x reader#konig call of duty#könig cod#könig x reader#konig x you#konig x y/n#könig call of duty#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#könig fanfiction#könig x you#könig x y/n#könig mw2#ghost x reader#ghost cod#cod#cod x reader
265 notes
·
View notes
Text
Alright, so there's been a lot of chatter about some of the most common racist takes in the fandom lately, and I know most people aren't engaging in good faith but I'm gonna spell some things out anyway. Here's a handy-dandy White Fan's Intro to Racist Fanon 101
Why is it racist to depict Ed as uncontrollably violent?
Because he's not actually depicted that way in the show. OFMD goes out of its way to depict Ed's relationship with violence as complex and intensely traumatic for him. Because he has so many hangups around violence, Ed is one of the least violent characters in a show full of violent characters. He is always shown giving people many chances before they're able to push him into reacting with violence.
Even if you think you're just doing a character study on a guy who is really very complex and nuanced, please take the time to consider if you're assigning more weight to Ed's violent actions than those of other characters or assuming he's worse than he actually is (for example, Ed never physically hurt the crew during his kraken spiral, just Izzy. His crime was being a shitty boss, not going on mindlessly violent rampages).
What do other common fanon depictions of Ed that are racist look like?
The biggest ones are depicting Ed as untidy/messy, as illiterate, and as needing a white man (most often Izzy) to clean up after him. I hope I shouldn't have to spell out why these are racist, but please keep an eye out for them in the fanon you consume so you can be critical of how you respond when they pop up.
Are you saying that all Izzy fans are racist?
Liking a character is morally neutral. Insisting that the viewpoint of an antagonistic character is the lens through which the show should be understood, though, especially when that antagonistic character's whole deal in the first season of the show was trying to control the behavior of the brown lead so he could gain power for himself, however...
Just please consider - why do you find Izzy's tears more deserving of sympathy and compassion than Ed's?
But my hot take/fic/meta doesn't say anything about Ed's skin color!
It doesn't have to. Most of the racist takes/fic/meta out there don't mention Ed's skin color explicitly. Racism doesn't just look like saying "this character is a brown man so he's bad." Everyone who grows up in a racist society (that's everyone on the planet, btw, you included) has biases to unlearn, and those biases impact how you interact with the world around you, including with the media you consume.
The thing is, OFMD isn't a subtle show. It's very consistent with telling us who Ed is, how he responds to situations, and why he behaves the way he does. If you find it easier to throw all that aside in favor of believing what a white antagonistic character tells you about him, then you should really take a bit to examine that.
And here's the most important thing to keep in mind:
This is not about you.
Trust me, it has to be pretty damn bad for fans of color to call out racism in fandom. Every time we do, we know we're gonna harrassment and just some truly awful shit in our inboxes. But you, random white fan who Did A Racism? No one is out to get you. No one thinks you're an awful person for including a racist trope in your stuff, we just wish you'd examine it so we can make this fandom a better place for everyone.
I have had amazing discussions with white fans who saw my posts on fandom racism and wanted a sensitivity read or a check so they could fix an instance where they uncritically included a racist trope. But most people who make similar mistakes will just double down and insist they didn't do anything wrong, and that makes fandom a worse place for all of us.
Fans of color deserve to feel safe and included in this fandom, and we're just tired of feeling like we have to beg to get some circles to see poc as people. You can do your part by being critical of these tropes and your reactions to them when they pop up.
165 notes
·
View notes
Text
He's My Man (Part 2)
Summary: The reader isn't quite so sure if she can trust Russell with her secrets but he's decided she's going to get his help, whether she wants it or not. Reluctantly she accepts but in the process realizes she might actually be starting to care about him...
Masterlist
Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader
Word Count: 4,500ish
Warnings: language, gun shot injury mention, mentions of death, angst, fluff
A/N: Ooooh things are heating up! Please enjoy!
__________
Russell stared at you with what one could only describe as a look of wonder. You didn’t exactly blame him. Eating four large cheese danishes and chugging back a week’s worth of coffee in the span of fifteen minutes was enough to make anyone’s eyes widen.
You tossed your trash in his motel waste bin when you finished and returned to your seat at the tiny corner table. With an obnoxiously loud slurp of even more coffee, Russell titled his head, shaking it slightly.
“Good god. You have never been more attractive to me, which is saying something.” You slurped again, Russell letting his curiosity in your eating habits fade away in favor of the elephant in the room. He straightened in his seat, pausing a beat. “So. What’s this long story?”
Your fingertips rattled against the side of the large styrofoam cup, a small amount of heat radiating through. Now that you’d had some time to think, or rather stress eat, you knew this was a mistake. A big one. You needed to kick Russell out of your life and the sooner the better.
“I think you have the wrong idea about what’s going on and I thought it better we talk in private,” you said. Russell wore a weary expression, his eyes dissecting your every micro-movement. “I’m not interested in a relationship or a date or conversation. I don’t do that considering my line of work and I imagine you keep things casual with yours. So you take your money and consider this a warning. Contact me again and I will have you dealt with, understand?”
Russell leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a clenched jaw. You narrowed your eyes in response, Russell picking at his bandage without realizing.
“Stop that,” you mumbled when he kept doing it, his lip twitching up in a not so friendly way.
“You threaten me and in the next breath are worried about my damn stitches? I don’t think you realize just how good I am at my job,” he said, placing both hands on the table, folding them together. You swallowed, Russell staring so intently you had to glance away. “Alright. Back at the coffee shop, that was a moment of bravery and now it’s passed? Tough shit. We’re in the weeds now and we ain’t leaving until I know you do your job of your own free will. Understand?”
“Forget I said anything.” You stood up, Russell matching the movement and catching your bicep before you could take a step. Yes, he was injured but even one armed, he had enough raw strength in him to keep you from leaving.
“Tell me or I dig on my own and make things a lot riskier for both of us.” He dropped his hand, nodding to the seat. Russell sighed. “I trusted you. You can do the same.”
“You’re one guy.” You shook your head. “Drop this or you’ll wind up dead or worse.”
“I made my living doing jobs where if I fucked up I’d wish I were dead over the alternative. I know how to keep a secret. Maybe I can help, maybe I can’t. But you opened the box. You can’t just close it again.”
“Yes, I can. Goodbye, Russell.” You grabbed your coffee and headed for the door, pausing when you had a hand on the handle.
But what if he could help…he was ex-special ops…
Russell’s hand slid over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. You frowned, a reassuring smile greeting you.
“Do you like your job?” he asked.
“S’complicated,” you whispered.
“How complicated?”
“Jobs like yours…that’s up to me to do that stuff but I…I work for someone else.” You found Russell’s unreadable green eyes and sighed. “I’m a fixer for the local mafia. It’s not a job you get to quit and stay alive very long.”
Russell contemplated your words, lips forming a thin line before he nodded. “I can take care of that assuming your story checks out.”
“My story?” you asked, Russell humming. “Why would I lie-”
“You could be playing me for any number of reasons. Like I said, I’m going to check your story out and if it’s all kosher, we’ll figure out where to go from there. Capiche?”
“Fine,” you grit out, shaking his hand away. “But do it quietly. You got three days.”
Late Evening
Your eye actually twitched when you answered your front door that night to find not your pizza delivery man before you but Russell fucking Shaw. He wore a deep navy utility jacket that hung loosely around his trim waist and a pair of black jeans. You weren’t sure why but his shift from lighter colored clothing this morning to this dark, edgy look made him look as dangerous as you expected he was.
“Russell,” you said. He didn’t bother hiding his smirk, eyes roaming over your body. You glanced down at your soft pale yellow pajama shirt and matching shorts set, huffing when he slipped past you inside.
“You totally are the kind of woman to having matching jammies,” he chuckled. You gripped the door tight, ready to kick him out just as your delivery driver pulled up.
“Just…take off your boots.” Two minutes later you had your pizza and garlic knots on your kitchen counter while Russell leaned back against it, his jacket since removed and tossed on the back of your couch. He wore a black zip up that was undone over a black t-shirt, Russell shifting at your growing unease.
“Listen,” he said, holding up his hands. “You got questions but first off, I’m not here to hurt you. This is just what I wear when I need to go…looking around places I ain’t exactly invited into.”
“Like my home?” He stared blankly, eyes drifting down to your chest. “The flirting was cute. Eye-fucking me in my kitchen, not so much.”
“You have sauce all over your shirt.” You glanced down, spotting marinara drops all over your short sleeve button up top from where you’d had the edge of the pizza box pressed against your torso as you’d carried it in. “Thanks for thinking so highly of me, though. Makes a guy feel special.”
“I’m on edge, alright?” you snapped, grabbing a towel and trying to get most of the sauce out. “Plus I just ruined a two hundred dollar shirt.”
“Figured you for a oversized men’s t-shirts kind of gal but little sets from french boutiques suites you.” You froze, Russell dropping his hands. “I know all about your shopping habits. You have high quality taste, much richer than the average suburbanite.”
“And?” you said, tossing the towel down, hands going to your hips. “Are you about to kidnap me and turn me over to the mafia or what?”
Russell approached you slowly, gently picking up the towel from the floor and dabbing it with some dish soap.
“If I had wanted to hurt you or take you or whatever else is going through your head, you wouldn’t have seen me coming.” He rubbed the towel against the damp spot on your shirt, letting the fabric get soapy. “Let that soak for a few minutes and then after you have some dinner, toss it in the wash. It’ll come out good as new.”
“How do you know that?” you asked, Russell hanging your towel on the oven handle.
“Because knowing how to get stains out of all types of fabrics is kind of necessary in my line of work,” he said, opening a few cabinets before finding the one with the plates. “Now. Can you put the knife you thought you grabbed without me seeing back and we have a civilized conversation over pizza?”
You weren’t sure how he’d seen you swipe the knife from the butchers block but figured he had a point. If he’d wanted to screw you over, he would have done it already. After excusing yourself, you returned in a pair of skinny black joggers and a slightly cropped gray AC/DC shirt to find Russell had already plated two sizeable portions for yourselves.
“See? Now that’s a look more fitting for the princess of darkness,” he chuckled.
“That’s queen of darkness to you,” you said, taking a seat at the island in front of one of the plates. “Do me a favor, lover boy. Grab me a guinness from the fridge.”
“Dark stout. Always a good choice.” He got out two, removing the cap for you before retreating to the other side of the island.
“As much as I love uninvited house guests who welcome themselves to my food and beer, why are you here, Russell?” You took a large bite of pizza, Russell long necking his beer for a moment.
“Yet I don’t see you kicking me out. It’s okay to admit you’ve fallen for me, Y/N,” he teased. You growled, Russell’s eyebrows raising in amusement. “Hot damn, woman. I love when you get all grr. Tells me you are a force to be reckoned with.”
You rolled your eyes, Russell taking an extra large bite. “Stop flirting and talk.”
“Why can’t I do both?” he asked, not waiting for an answer. “But to answer your original question, I’m here because your story checked out and that’s kind of a problem.”
“Excuse me? Why is that an issue?”
He set his plate down and gripped the island, leaning over it slightly. “Y/N. I can call up a few friends and wipe out a local mafia family no problem.”
“Awesome. Then what’s the fucking problem?” Russell tilted his head, like you’d just walked into some kind of trap he’d set.
“Y/N. Despite all the obvious sexual tension brewing between us, you failed to mention that you have a boyfriend. You know, the head of this fucking mafia family. The boyfriend that buys you those fancy french pajama sets? The one that bought that espresso machine over there? Girl, you better explain yourself because I am not a hired gun.”
You chewed quietly for a few moments under the heated scrutiny of Russell’s gaze before you pushed the plate away.
“My dad was an accomplished doctor. He was very well respected. I grew up very comfortably until I was about eight.” Russell loosened his stance and began to eat while you decided what he needed to absolutely know. “My dad unknowingly saved a mobster’s life one night in the ER. Mr. Lauter.”
“The former head of the mafia and this guy, Owen, your supposed boyfriend’s dad?” You nodded before taking a big swig from your bottle.
“Well, that pissed off Mr. Elpine who had almost had a successful hit on Mr. Lauter. Elpine tried to get my dad to kill Lauter. Dad refused and the next morning on the way to school, the brake lines in our car didn’t work. Dad and I walked away. Mom and my brother didn’t. Dad was scared Elpine would come after me again.”
“Your father went to Lauter for protection,” said Russell. You picked up your pizza as he put together the rest of the pieces. “Lauter offers him protection for saving his life but something happens and your dad ends up working for Lauter as his fixer.”
“The paranoia got to dad. He would take me on these weekend hunting trips all the time and teach me survival skills and medical stuff and I was a fucking kid, Russell. I didn’t want to do that shit but dad was…twitchy. PTSD for sure, a mental break too. I always guessed there was some brain trauma after the accident that never healed. He got real bad when I went to college. Bad enough that Lauter stepped in when my dad attacked me when I came home for the holidays. Lauter killed him and the fucked up part was I wasn’t even upset. My real dad had died when I was a kid. But…when a mob boss kills for you whether you wanted them to or not-”
“They think they own you for life.” You nodded. “So you became the fixer.”
“They let me finish college under the condition I come back and work for the family. They leave me be except for when I need to patch someone in the crew up. It’s honestly not that bad. They gave me a lot of money over the years. I hate to say this but Mr. Lauter was pretty good to me.”
Russell cleared his throat. “You do know how fucked up what he did to you is, right?”
“Of course I do,” you said, closing your eyes. “But compared to my dad and Owen, he was the lesser evil.”
“I came across the fact Mr. Lauter died about three weeks ago from heart disease.” You hummed. “Tell me about this fuckface, Owen.”
“Dude has had a crush on me since he was fucking twelve. He has it in his head that the family owns me, literally. Lauter always reined him in but since he’s been gone, Owen’s been…pushy. Telling the crew I’m his girlfriend, asking them to follow me. Thankfully, and this is why this is so weird, I grew up around a lot of the guys. Making me work and fix people, fine. But some kind of forced romance? They aren’t cool with it, at least they’re kind of ignoring Owen. I’ve kept Owen off my back because he’s grieving and busy trying to take over but he’s going to back on my ass soon. This time, those guys will have to listen to their new boss.”
“So…I take out Owen and you think you’re in the clear. You could have just said that.” He finished off his beer and washed his hands at the sink. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going grab essentials, and I mean essentials, while I pack up your dinner in what I expect is some color coordinated tupperware. Then you’re going to take my car and drive to Elmhurst Camping Grounds. It’s about four hours north of here and no, you will stop for anything so use the bathroom before you go and I’ll pack you a snack. You’re going to park in the visitors lot and go to the airstream in lot 4. It’ll be isolated. You knock on the door and there’ll be a guy inside. Colter. You stay with him, go wherever he goes and do whatever he tells you to without question. You don’t leave his side until I come and get you, understand?”
“I feel like if I ask questions you’ll just tell me I don’t want to know.” Russell smirked.
“I love that big brain of yours.” You rolled your eyes but felt a tiny smile on your face. “Warming up to me are we?”
“Fuck no. But uh, who the hell are you sending me to?”
“My baby brother. Don’t worry. His ugly mug will keep you safe.”
Four Hours Later
“Uh, hi,” you said, practically bouncing up and down at midnight in front of a strange tall man at a very nice airstream RV.
“Y/N,” he said as you forced a smile. “Bathroom is right there-”
You darted past him and into the small cubby bathroom, grateful after the long drive. The man was waiting leaned against a small counter space when you exited, a temporary bed made up behind him in what looked like a breakfast nook.
“Sorry to barge in. Russell said not to stop for anything.”
“S’alright,” he said. “Bed’s made up if you want to crash. I’m going to stay up a bit longer by the fire. You’re welcome to join if you like.”
“Thanks, uh…” you said, a very brief smile on his face as you tried to remember what Russell had called him.
“Colter. It’s not a problem.” He skirted by you and outside, taking a seat in a foldable camping chair. You had questions but for the moment, all you wanted was to get some rest.
You woke up around six thirty, jolting up in your bed to find a very wet and nearly naked Colter trying to pick up a mug he’d dropped.
“Well good morning,” you said, his hand in a death grip on the towel just barely concealing him away.
“Morning,” he said, slowly backing up to the bedroom. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Not a problem,” you said, catching a whiff of coffee.
“Mug are in the first cabinet if you want a cup. I’ll be out in a minute,” he said. He excused himself to his room and slid the divider shut, leaving you to the rest of the airstreamer.
A moment later you were outside in front of a small fire, sitting in a chair with warm coffee in your hands. It was cool and you wished you’d thought to pack a jacket in your haste last night.
You were rubbing your arms when something was draped over your shoulders, a thick heavy hoodie.
“Russell got you out of there pretty quick, huh?” asked Colter, taking the mug while you shrugged into the warm fleece.
“Yeah. All I grabbed was my wallet, some cash and my computer. He told me I could buy clothes here,” you said. Colter handed you back the mug and took a seat beside you.
“I checked his car. He had a duffel full of his clothes in there I brought inside. You can use his stuff, or mine, until we can hit a store.”
“Thanks,” you said, smelling Russell’s deodorant on the fabric. Colter saw you tug the hood up, a question on the tip of his tongue but he decided against it. The air was still and quiet apart from the crackle of fire and morning birds.
“So,” said Colter, not looking at you as he drank. “You and Russell…you like, his girlfriend-”
“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I just met the guy yesterday. All I did was patch him up.”
“Right.” You sunk lower in your chair, slurping loudly.
“Were you special ops like him?” you asked. Colter shook his head.
“Civilian. Never had any formal training, just what we grew up with.” Well, that was an interesting statement. What the hell did it mean though? “Our father was a survivalist, taught us things.”
“Oh. My dad was a little out there too.” Was that why Russell was so adamant about helping you out of your situation? No. Maybe it played a part, but no. He’d wanted to help before you told him that. “Does Russell do this sort of thing often?”
“No clue. First time I talked to him in years was two days ago. I helped him find a friend of his. I was there when he got that bullet hole in him you fixed.”
Alrighty then. Russell was becoming more and more intriguing by the second.
“So you don’t know a lot about him then,” you said. Colter shrugged.
“I guess I’m figuring him out too but he’s a good guy. He’s somebody you want as a friend.” You hummed, finishing your coffee off. Colter excused himself to get you more and returned with a fresh cup, steam billowing from within.
“You trail run?” you asked, Colter’s eyes showing a flash of surprise. “Muddy sneakers by the door. I did cross country in school.”
“I try to get out most mornings. The hot water should be good to go in about five minutes if you want a shower.”
“Thanks.” You licked your lips as you remembered the sight of him exiting the bathroom not long ago. Sure, Colter was hot but Russell…well the image of that man in nothing but a towel as water dripped down his body…You shifted in your seat, squeezing your legs together to try and get a hold of yourself. Colter smirked slightly in his seat. “What?”
“I’m good at reading people is all.”
“And? What am I saying?” you asked, staring him down. Colter only smiled as he looked away to the fire.
“You’re wondering if Russell works out and picturing him naked.” You glared at him but it did nothing to hide the heat radiating off your cheeks. “Hey, you’re a grown woman. You can do as you please.”
“I think I will take that shower now.” You stood and set the mug down on the ground, shooting Colter one last look. There’d been no malice or teasing in his voice. He was simply being straight with you. “Listen. I just…I haven’t exactly been around good guys much, or ever. I’m not saying there’s anything there beyond physical attraction, okay?”
“Okay,” he said, looking at you like you were the worst liar in the world. “Whatever you say.”
You grumbled and went inside to take a very cold shower.
Three Days Later - Spokane, Washington
“Hey, Colt,” you said, pushing up the long sleeves of Russell’s gray henley you wore. Colter hummed around the piece of grilled chicken in his mouth as you spun your laptop around from the other side of the airstream’s dining table. “Could she have gone here? Looks like a decommissioned game trail.”
“Yeah, yeah that fits,” he said with his mouth full, chewing and swallowing quickly so he could take a closer look. You returned to your own dinner, Colter mentioning he was going to take a look after dark.
Things had fallen into an easy pattern with the two of you. Colter was very different than his brother but it wasn’t a bad thing. He didn’t talk much and worked as a rewardist. He’d planned on sticking around the east coast for when Russell met up with you again but an urgent case in Washington popped up. You’d spent most of the past three days driving cross-country behind Colter’s truck and the airstreamer, learning what the hell a rewardist was.
Colter had told you about the case at first to keep your mind off of Russell but you’d reluctantly taken an interest and now were deep in the weeds of helping him locate a missing young woman.
“You want to come look with me?” asked Colter, breaking you out of your train of thought. You blinked, a small smile on his face. “Come on. It’ll get you some experience with rewardest work and stop you from doom scrolling.”
“Alright,” you sighed. While you appreciated Colter’s attempts to make you feel better, you were starting to get very concerned. You hadn’t heard from Russell since you left your house a few days ago and there was nothing in the news about the local mafia members being killed. Or him.
Colter rubbed your back when you helped him unhook it from the airstream. He tended to do that when you started to get stressed out. He hadn’t been lying before. He really was good at reading people.
“Colter,” you said in the dark truck, the hum of the vehicle quiet in the cab as he drove. “What if something happened to him and he needs our help?”
“He knows what he’s doing. A job like this, he’s got to do a lot of prep work and he’s got to put a crew together. Trusted friends. Try not to worry.” You bit your bottom lip as you stared out the window, trees passing by.
If only it were that simple.
It was two in the morning by the time you and Colter made it back to the camping grounds. You’d found Martha in not too great of shape but she was alive and the doctors said she’d make a full recovery with time. Colter has tried to give you some of the reward money for helping but you hadn’t done all that much in your opinion.
“Stay here,” he said when he turned the truck into your lot and you spotted a dark figure sitting by the fire. He took his gun from the back of jeans and got out, pausing halfway out the door. He smiled over at you and you caught the dark figure give an awkward little wave. “Should I tell him how much you’ve been worried?”
“Not. A. Word. Colter,” you said before hopping out and happily rushing over to where Russell rose to his feet. You didn’t realize you were giving him a hug until he was laughing, returning it and lifting you off the ground.
“I missed my queen of darkness too,” he chuckled, setting you down with a smirk. You scoffed, Russell’s eyebrows raising at your attire. “Is that my jacket? And shirt?”
“Why waste the money on new stuff,” you shrugged, Russell grinning like an idiot. “Stop that.”
“I’m sure that was the reason.” Colter came over, the boys sharing a nod. “You keep my little delinquent out of trouble?”
“She’s a breeze,” said Colter, taking a seat. “Even helped with my latest case. She should try the rewardist thing. She’s good at it.”
“Maybe. All I want to know is am I good?” you asked. Russell took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. He nodded, the tension running of out your body. “Thank you, Russell. Thank your friends too. I’ll pay you guys-”
“No payment. This was because you’re my friend, plain and simple. Just knowing you’re safe is more than enough.” You smiled, letting yourself rest your head against his shoulder. “You should rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“How-”
“In the morning. I need to catch up with my little brother.” You nodded, enjoying the feel of his heavy hand as it ran over your head. “Go sleep, Y/N. You’re exhausted.”
You reluctantly peeled yourself away and went inside to find your makeshift bed had been done up for you already. You didn’t even try to fight the flutters in your stomach when you spotted a yellow pajama shirt and shorts set neatly folded on top. There was a note beside it, a stupid ass smile finding it’s way onto your face.
Brand new. Imported from France. Don’t get used to fancy ass presents like these. I ain’t made of money. Even if these are soft as fuck and I totally wish they made these for men. I still think you’d look better wearing a band tee to bed.
Russ
P.S. They had a sale so I got you something else too. Check your backpack.
You shook your head and grabbed your bag from the floor, taking out a very elegant black bag. You undid the tissue paper and went wide eyed.
Inside was a very, very, fancy black lace bra and multiple pairs of gorgeous bikini style undies in soft muted colors. There was another note waiting for you inside, your heart stilling.
No strings attached. Hopefully these will cover you for a little while until you can get settled again.
“Oh, Russell,” you said quietly, thumbing over the bag, smiling to yourself as your insides did very happy backflips.
He wasn’t just a pretty and protective face. He was thoughtful too.
And you were starting to fall for a guy that’d most likely be gone by this time tomorrow.
Fuck.
__________
A/N: Part 3 coming soon!
#russell shaw#Russell Shaw x reader#russell shaw fanfiction#Tracker Fanfiction#Tracker#Russell Shaw x you#Russell Shaw Series
174 notes
·
View notes
Note
can u write hc's for sub!enha and their first time w their bf :00
no need to ask me twice ugh i love this
enhypen & their first times
pairings ᱖ sub/switch!enha x dom/switch!male!reader
warnings ᱖ explicit content, established and implied relationships, subtle sub/dom dynamics, conversations of virginity, underlying corruption kinks, sub!enha, dom!reader, subtop!heeseung + jay + jake, subbot!sunghoon + sunoo + jungwon
important notes ᱖ hi!! thank you so much for suggesting and i love this so much! you never specified top/bottom, so i did follow my personal preference. the oldest three are sub!tops, and the youngest three are sub!bottoms, however they are all still subs, i hope its not an issue!
heeseung 박희승 : patient
heeseung, compared to other members, may need a bit more time to be ready for anything sexual beyond making out and greedy touches. needless to say, you two will be taking it slowly and patiently. he has trouble relaxing and relinquishing any control to you, but with the way your fingers scrape against his scalp and the tone of your voice when you whisper in his ear.. ah, even if he wasnt ready, something switched in his mind. he wouldnt be one to lean back and let it happen; you would speak him through it all for him to be comfortable. this includes whispering sweet praises and reassurances as your fingers wrap around his cock, and interlocking your fingers with his when you move your lips to bite at the pale skin of his neck. just know that the moment youre actually on him he might fall into some sort of.. daze, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he let you do all the work. you would have to be slow as to not overwhelm him or make him overthink, but itll be beyond heavenly for the both of you.
jay 박정성 : intimate
see, for him, jay never exactly wishes to be out of control. but theres something about you—his beautiful boyfriend—that allows him to give in. running your hands down his chiseled chest and nipping at his ear, it seems like majority of the night would be calculated foreplay. youd trace a line up his jaw and fuck would he have a hard time keeping his hands off you. simply send him that one glare, however, and hed put his hands behind his back if he had to. its your eyes that make him melt like that. hes never seen you like this before and that in itself was a turn on. when you ride him for the first time with a hand around his throat and lips against his (well, barely. your minds are too fogged you think you may be missing his lips when youre kissing), he thinks that theres nothing better in this world but to be like this with you.
jake 시재윤 : need
have you ever seen a man genuinely so eager to get you off that he forgets about his own raging hard on? ah right, thats jake. the second your makeout session morphed into something more, this man was putty in your hands. grinding on his thigh with your hands tangled in his hair.. well its certainly far from a romantic first encounter with sex, but the desperate whines and curses slipping from jakes lips are enough to make it worth it. you seriously could mold this man into whatever you wanted with your hands. when you told him to suck you off? he was on his knees before you could even finish the second. due to all the pent up frustration in him after a few months of not having any sort of sex, just know that hed come untouched in his pants just from blowing you.. and hed have zero shame about it.
sunghoon 박성훈 : lust
while a lot of people assume that sunoo would be the most of a brat or tease, i disagree. sunghoon is the definition of bratty when it comes to these situations, and youd only just get a taste of how he can be when it is your first time. it was like there was zero warning for how he would be, but part of you isnt complaining. how pretty he looks against the sheets, giving you that smirk and lidded gaze as you have two fingers knuckle deep in him. maybe you partially wanted to give up and give into him, but the way he taunted you with his words and his body was far too great of a reward to give up. overall, itd feel more like a game than anything; a back and forth until you snapped and pressed his face into the sheets. who said anything about first times being gentle? you probably only did it because he pushed your sanity just a bit too far this time.
sunoo 김선우 : playful
really, it started as a cute make out session. no more than pressing teasing kisses to each others lips and jokingly tugging at waistbands. so how did you end up here, with sunoo on his knees in between your legs? well, regardless of how, just know that itd all be lighthearted and playful. teasing insults, gentle bites, and maybe a bit of humiliation. it was more casual than you were expecting for your first time, but you werent complaining. the way he giggled when you bit his thighs was enough to ease any of your nerves and insecurities, truly. no need to even begin to speak about the way he looked at you and spoke meaningless insults to motivate you; some comments along the lines of "well? if you havent messed up my makeup already, you really arent that good."
jungwon 양정원 : affection
on the contrary, your first time with jungwon would be quiet and intimate. the only words that would leave your lips would be 'i love you''s and sweet nothings filled with praise. despite taking it slow, it was truly nothing but love and trust. he trusted you with his body, shivering at the way your cold hands felt against his bare waist. and you? you trusted him with your ego here, but that would be a topic for another time. gentle kisses against his chest that trail down to his hips and his feet resting on your shoulders—you were never a religious man, but you swore that this was heaven itself.
#༝ i2hoon#༝ enha#enhypen#enhypen smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen x male reader#enhypen reactions#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#heeseung smut#heeseung x reader#jay smut#jay x reader#jake smut#jake x reader#sunghoon smut#sunghoon x reader#sunoo smut#sunoo x reader#jungwon smut#jungwon x reader#kpop smut#kpop imagines#male reader#sub enhypen#dom reader
69 notes
·
View notes
Text
Steel Here
(Boothill x Fem!Reader)
cw-: Body dysmorphia, slight talks of hating themself, other than that fluff fluff
🎀 authorsnote: Rn I'm feeling like my body isn't great so I used this fic to sort of get it out! And it actually felt great!
please don't steal my work!
Boothill’s quietly sitting in his room that you begged him to have on The Astral Express. As his girlfriend you've been trying to get him to stay around more and he adores it.
But it also gives him more time to really think...and he doesn't know if he likes that part.
Ok...he hates it. He hates that fact that he has to see himself when he passes a mirror, he hates it when he feels his cool steel against his face, he hates how he can't feel your hugs...
Boothill stands and looks in the mirror, flexing his mechanical arms softly and glancing over his fake abs. He shakes his left metal leg and sighs.
He hears the small mechanical noise of his bedroom door and looks over to it. He smiles softly as he sees you.
“Hey sweet thang...” He shoots you a warm smirk, trying to cover up what he was doing as he quickly sits on his bed. You glance over at the mirror and back to him. Piecing it in your mind what exactly he was doing. “What do ya need hon...?”
You're silent as he asks. No response as you just blink. Your eyes communicate to him that you want him to tell you what you saw.
Your boyfriend sighs a little. Placing his head in his hands and closing his eyes.
“Don't gimme that look...” He breathes, obviously frustrated as he looks back up at you, “Fine...I'm startin' to wish I was me again...I don't want this body anymor'.”
"Oh honey..." You whisper softly as you sit next to him on the bed. You place a hand on his back but remember he won't even be able to feel it...
“See...now would ya look at that...?” Boothills voice drawls, he places a hand on your thigh and sighs as you shiver at the cold metal. “I...guess this is ma' life now..." He scoffs softly. "Can't even curse...it's all 'muddle fudger' this and 'fork that' and 'son of a nice lady'..."
"Boothill sweetheart..." You whisper as you lean against him. "Don't say that..."
Boothill hesitates on resting his temple against your head, he doesn’t need his body reminding him that part of his ridiculous body is only metal.
But he doesn’t know what else to do to comfort himself. He’s frustrated to the moon and back, frustrated at being in this body he doesn’t want.
“I don’t think you understand, darlin’” Boothill whispers. “I miss the me I once was. I just… don’t feel quite like myself anymore…”
"You're still...my Boothill..." You pull away gently and grasp his cheek.
The corner of his lips quirk upwards at your words, but the warm touch and caress of your hand on his cheek still doesn’t feel the same. He wishes of his could feel the same kind of texture he once thrived from and took for granted in his human skin...not just his face.
It’s almost...cold to him.
“You’re the only one who can remind me of the old me that’s still lyin’ somewhere underneath this piece’o’junk body.” He murmurs.
"It's not a piece'o'junk..." You imitate him with a smile. "Boothill... you're amazing just the way you are..."
There you go smiling. If there’s anything that’s capable of changing his mood for the better, it’s you.
Boothill gives you a chuckle. “Look who’s sweet talkin’ who now,” his voice is a bit more lighthearted than previously. “You’ve gotta stop bein’ like this darlin’. You’re gonna make me blush.”
You smile softly and kiss his cheek. "Honey...look at me..." You take his face in your hands. "I love you..."
Boothill smiles, feeling your lips press against his cheek. His hands find their way to your wrists, gently caressing them and wishing he could feel your skin. He knows it's definitely a lot warmer than the cold of his steel.
“You’re a real charmer, y’know that?” He says, his voice low and amused. “I don’t reckon I can look anywhere else when ya say things like that.”
"Now...how can we make you feel better?" You hum softly in his ear.
“You have no idea how bad I want that...” Boothill replies with a grin. He pulls your face closer to his and whispers into your ear. “But you’ve got to keep those sweet words of yours comin’.” Boothill’s voice is low and seductive. “I’m starvin’ here, darlin’.”
"Pamper Queen tonight aren't we?" You laugh, placing your hand on his chest.
“Only for my darlin’.” He teases, placing a hand over yours and gently rubbing his thumb against your skin. Boothill’s other hand caresses your cheek. “Let’s be frank; you’ve gotten me spoiled rotten, and I ain’t mad about it.”
Your face contorts into a look of pure thought. "Here...since you give me massages sometimes..." You get up and walk over to his closet.
Boothill’s curious as his gaze follow your movements, hands resting on the arm rest. He wonders if you’re looking for something specific.
“Whatcha lookin’ for, darlin’?” He asks, tilting his head to rest his cheek on his metal palm, fingers pressed against his chin.
"How about we polish your metal?" You pull out some wax and a waxing machine.
Boothill’s expression changes into something resembling a mix of disbelief and shock, then into amusement as he bursts into laughter. He had an expectation for what you were going to do, but this wasn’t it.
“Is that a euphemism for something I’m not gettin’?" He jokes, his laughter trailing into a playful smirk as he watches you closely.
"Well...I don't know the equivalent of a massage for cyborgs!" You whine playfully.
Boothill chuckles as he playfully rolls his eyes at you. “Oh, I’m certain a few people out there would call this ‘metal maintenance’ or something.”
He then rises to his feet. “And I wouldn’t mind havin’ ya give me a good ol’ metal maintenance, darlin’. But I hope you know I’m ticklish in some spots.”
"How are you ticklish..." You murmur and plug it into the wall.
Boothill chuckles again, crossing his arms as he gazes down at the metal machine in your hands. “I’m ticklish ‘round my neck and behind my knee, believe it or not. I ain’t kiddin’.”
He walks over to you and stands before you, a grin spreading on his face. “I’ve got a feelin’ you’re gonna use this as a weapon against me, aren’t ya?”
"Phantom tickles on the knee I guess..." You hum and fire it up. "And it's NOT a weapon..."
“Aww, shoot… and here I was, thinkin’ you’d give me a break.” He quips, shrugging his shoulder and letting out a small chuckle.
In truth, Boothill is a little excited for you to polish him. “How are you at polishin’ machines, darlin’? Cause it ain’t gonna be clean if you don’t know what you’re doin’...” He teases as he glances at the polishing machine, then back at you.
You hesitate and cough. "I'm...great?" You quickly get to work before he can question anything.
Boothill raises a brow as he eyes you with a small, amused smirk. He has a feeling you're definitely not good with these machines.
“I’m sure ya are.” He teases, a small, playful chuckle falling from his lips.
While Boothill initially stands still, he can’t help but feel a little ticklish as he can feel the machine polish the outer surface of his thigh. “Careful with that…”
You giggle softly as you keep polishing his metal body. You slide up to his neck and carefully polish it.
A soft, amused chuckle leaves Boothill as he can’t help it. Your gentle polish on his neck is a little ticklish, which causes him to tense up from the sensation. He’d definitely describe it as ticklishness. He rests a hand on the back of your head as you polish his neck, caressing the underside of his fingers against your skin.
“Oh, what a sight to see. I’ve got my pretty lady polishin’ me to perfection.” He teases.
"D-Don't distract me or I'll move!" You whine.
“Distract you?” Boothill murmurs, his lips tilting into a small smirk. “I’m just complimentin' you.”
He gently moves your chin with a finger, guiding it to meet his gaze as he gazes down at you. “And don’t move. I like the way your beautiful eyes look when you’re focused on me.” A tease disguised as a compliment.
You freeze as your heart pounds in your chest...which was not the best move because the polisher slides right off him and shoots at the wall.
A small gasp leaves Boothill when he watches the polisher slide off him. But then he bursts into a hearty chuckle, his hands resting on his waist. His eyes are closed while he laughs, and when he’s done, he glances at the wall where the polisher’s been launched into.
“That wall didn’t do nothin’ to deserve that, darlin’...“ He teases through stifled giggles.
"Y-Yeah well...you distracted me!" You whine before sitting in his lap.
Boothill pulls you onto his lap and rests his chin on your shoulder, his arms naturally wrapping around your waist. As you lean against him, he can see the machine embedded into the wall from the corner of his eye. He shakes his head and laughs again.
“You’re a feisty one, aren’t ya?” He teases, nuzzling his face to the crook of your neck and trailing his lips against your skin.
"It's not like I did it on purpose..." You mutter into his hair.
Boothill lets out another chuckle, feeling the warmth of your breath against his head. “I know you didn’t.” He murmurs, letting out a low sigh that’s a mix of contentment and relief.
He gently presses his cheek to the top of your head, his fingers gently rubbing your waist. “I’m just teasin’ ya, darlin’. You wouldn’t hurt a fly. ‘Sides, look at the bright side.” He adds. “At least the machine didn’t land on my toes.”
"You don't even have toes!" You blink and roll your eyes.
Boothill’s expression turns into a grin as he laughs, pulling you closer to him. “See? Told ya you’re the feisty one.” He teases, tilting his head to kiss your temple. He places another kiss on the top of your head, savoring the feeling of your warmth against his.
“Maybe I don’t have toes.” He begins, placing another kiss on your cheek. “But this body’s got everything else ya need.”
"See that's my Boothill..." You smile warmly. "Don't think of yourself the way you were before...and if you do...let me know?" You whisper.
As he hears your words, a soft smile forms on Boothill's face. He places a hand on your cheek, gently stroking the side of your face as his other rests on your waist.
His eyes look deep into yours with affection, and a corner of his lips quirks upwards. “That's a mighty good offer ya’re givin’ me here, darlin’. But I’d rather you stop me from thinkin’ like that before I could.”
"Now that is a better plan..." You smile before leaning in to kiss him.
Boothill’s eyes flutter to a close as your lips press against his, a warm fluttering feeling erupting in his chest. The kiss is slow and tender, and he melts against your touch as he pulls you a little closer and into his embrace.
Once the kiss ends, Boothill opens his eyes and sighs, feeling calmer and a lot more pleasant than before.
“You’re way too good for this broken ol’ geezer.” He whispers affectionately.
"Boothill...honey... you're not even old!" You laugh softly and nuzzle against him.
Boothill lets out a low chuckle, his hand gently caressing your skin as he leans into your touch. "You sure about that, darlin'? I feel like a relic with all this metal on me."
He glances down at his metallic hand, flexing his fingers. Then, he looks back at you with a smile. “But as long as you’re tellin’ me otherwise, I guess I ain’t.”
"That's what I thought~" You press a kiss to his forehead.
A smirk spreads on Boothill’s face as he watches you kiss his forehead. He lifts a hand and gently caresses your face, his thumb rubbing your skin.
“Ain’t you a precious one?” He muses, his grin widening as he gazes at you. “I reckon I ain’t that old after all.” He adds, his teasing tone laced with an affectionate edge. “What gives you the right to be so adorable?”
"I'm your girlfriend, it's my job!" You smile warmly.
Once again, Boothill’s gaze falls into yours, and he feels a flutter in his chest at your words. He rests a hand on your waist, caressing your skin with the back of his cold metal fingers.
“You’re right,” he murmurs, a warm smile spreading on his face as he nods. His eyes lock with yours, and he lifts a hand to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“And I reckon you’re doin’ a real good job at it, darlin’...” He adds, his voice low, warm and affectionate.
"Y'know... I'm always going to be here..." You smile. "Hey, hey!" You start to giggle. "I'm 'steel' here..." You joke.
Boothill lets out a loud laugh, shaking his head as you throw in a joke. He takes your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours, lifting it to his lips and planting a kiss on your knuckles.
“You’re real clever,” he murmurs, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his smile grows wider. In all honesty, he appreciates the effort you’re putting into cheering him up.
“Ain’t a doubt in me that you’d always be here for me, darlin’.”
You kiss him one more time. This time more passionate and love infused. As you pull away you smile. "I'll always...be here..."
The unexpected passion in your kiss catches Boothill off guard and leaves him breathless. As you pull away, he lets out a low gasp, his grip on your hand tightening just a little.
When you declare your promise, he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he lets the moment sink in. He feels a wave of warmth wash over him, and he whispers back.
“I’ll be here for you, too, darlin’...”
🎀End🎀
If you want to be added to my Taglist please check out my rules here!
#fanfic#honkai star rail#honkai sr#honkai star rail smut#hsr#boothill x reader#boothill hsr#boothill#boothill smut#new writer boost#new writers on tumblr#honkai fanfic
75 notes
·
View notes
Note
If you’re willing could you maybe write a little thing (idk the word for it sorry 😭) about replaced God MC getting annoyed with Gabriel and choosing to get energy from Michellel instead??
Yes! I love this, I was thinking of cucking em with lower demons but it would get their heads turning if you chose one of them!
(I really hope you like it I feel like I messed it up!)
Wrong Move (Gabriel)
Cw: technically c*cking?, pining, one sided relationship, angel energy exchange, slight edge play,
-
Gabriel knew you wouldn’t forgive him easily for…branding you…liking your best friend and charging a war against Hell, then kidnapping you…
Gabriel sighs as he watches you tremble as Michael Carrie’s you to your room for some…angel energy….he wished you’d give him a chance! He’s gotta be better! No angel has done…such activities until you came around so they all have the same experience level…
It hurt since it wasn’t just once…this is the with time…it irked him to know you chose the cry baby to him…he could hear his whimpers and moans…it made his heart ache…
He thought about the brand marking he left on you, it hurt to know…he scared your perfect vessel. But…you gave him no chance to make it up, he could heal it! But…you ordered him to deal with and live with the scars there…
He whimpers as he hears Michael moaning loudly, enjoying himself with you…Gabriel had gotten so upset he even tried peeking in in you two a few times.
Each time Michael just…was so obedient, only doing as you say…even letting you edge him.
“A-aah! M-my Lord…I’m close! Please have mercy!”
Gabriel paused, he’s never heard Michael sound like that, he’s never seen him look like that…
Gabriel’s own body heated up at the thought often of you doing this to him…he can feel his cock throbbing in its cage and as he glances towards the other angels groin, he notices…the lack of a chastity cage….
His eyes widen realizing you took off Michael’s cage.
He sobs in frustration quietly, leaving, trembling in a mix of embarrassment and frustration. He needs to make this up to you…
~
The next day you wake up to Gabriel having made you breakfast. He has your clothes laid out and is smiling to you. “My Lord, I’m sorry…I’ve been very…dare I say inappropriate.”
Gabriel sighs and looks away trying to think of what to say.
“Have I said before? That I love you, I deeply value you and will do all I can to protect my Lord…” Gabriel leans forwards and rest his forehead on yours. “Please, please Master…let me heal the wound I have you, I’m sorry…I regret it.”
You barely seem bothered, making him feel wounded, his smile falters but he gets his hopes up when you brush his hair to the side so you can look in his eyes.
“Gabriel. I knew you were watching.”
Gabriel freezes and lowers his gaze. “I-I’m sorr-“
You interrupt him. “Don’t be a brat, I’m not going to chose you next time because your pride wants it…”
You grab his halo and yank it so he flops on the bed, landing beside you. Gabriel looks to you in surprise but since you don’t key go of his halo he decides to behave and stay down. He looks up to you nervously.
“Maybe next time I’ll let you sit in the room, gagged and tied up so you can sit back and enjoy the sight without bothering us.” You coldly tease, leaning over you pluck a feather from Gabriel’s wings. “Get Michael. I need some more energy.”
Gabriel whimpered as you let go of his halo.
“M-Master please give me a chance! I will prove myself to you! I’ll do anything you want! My entire being is just for your pleasure!” He pleaded…you hated his desperate tantrums whenever you decline him something like this. “Once chance is all I’m asking for please…”
As you sit up on the bed he gets on the ground on your side of the bed and gets on his knees and bow, his head on the ground as he bows to you. You know it’s a sign of respect but you grin and place a foot on his head, pushing his face against the ground.
“What a whiny bitch you are…now get Michael and I’ll let you watch.”
Gabriel held back a whimper and hurried away, trying to hid the tears in his eyes from your rejection…he’s sure he can make it up later…just not now…
#whb#dom reader#sub whb#sub gabriel#sub michael#nsft#what in hell is bad#gabriel x reader#michael x mc#michael x reader#Gabriel x mc
133 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rock Hard (Rock Band! Cross Guild x Reader)
Part 4. The Drummer
Prelude // The Vocalist // The Guitarist // The Drummer
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, Crocodile is an asshole (I mean it), Crocodile calls you a whore in a derogatory sense but you straighten him out about that, possessive Crocodile, light choking, desk sex, PiV sex, creampie
WC: 2.5k
Summary: Of course Crocodile finds out about you and Buggy. And you and Mihawk. Because that’s just the way your life is going. He seems to be taking the news extremely poorly.
Notes: y’all wanted mean Crocodile, you get mean Crocodile
Tagging: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @keiva1000
You contemplate never going to work again. Preferably faking your own death, creating a new identity, and starting over in some small European country where they don’t have internet and you can just be a sheep farmer. That seems like the more reasonable solution- as opposed to getting out of bed and facing Mihawk or Buggy. You could call in sick but for some reason that’s worse than any of the previous options so you begrudgingly peel yourself out of bed to get ready for work.
Your only saving grace is that you’re working with Crocodile today and ironing out sponsors for their first concert- a task that shouldn’t involve either of the men you’re desperate to avoid. If you keep your head down you should be able to artfully dodge them.
And by artfully dodge you mean using the stairs and fast walking though hallways as you don’t bother to stop at your own desk- opting to start your day in Crocodile’s office. You hover at the door to his office, listening to make sure there’s no one else in there (like other pesky band members) before knocking. He tells you to come in and you do, relieved to see he’s alone.
“Did you get the papers I left on your desk?” Is his first question and it has you cursing under your breath.
“Sorry- I must have missed it-“ You know your lie is caught the second he looks at you with one eyebrow raised.
“I came straight here, I was running late.” Another lie, but a better one that Crocodile seems to accept.
“I’ll have Daz grab them off your desk in a bit, there’s something I need to talk to you about first.” He motions for you to sit at one of the chairs across from his desk.
You hesitate, walking closer but stay standing behind the chair. “Something wrong with the venue?”
“No, everything with that is going fine. It’s something more personal.”
Shit.
“Last night I had to stop a fist fight from breaking out between Buggy and Mihawk.”
Fuck.
“Would you happen to know anything about why that might have happened?”
You can tell by his tone of voice his question is rhetorical, and you wish you had followed through with your plan on faking your death. Taking a deep breath, you dig deep to find some sort of reasonable response.
“I’m sorry. Some of my actions have been incredibly unprofessional.” You keep your eyes glued on the chair in front of you but you can still feel Crocodile’s glare burning into you.
“Unprofessional? Look if I had know you’d be such a whore-“
That last word has you seeing red and your gaze snaps up to meet his. “Excuse me? I understand that I fucked up but that gives you no right to call me that. If you’re going to call anyone a whore look at your bandmates and take your pick. Buggy begged for weeks and Mihawk couldn’t stand the concept of Buggy having something up on him that he dragged me into a closet. Get your fucking facts straight before you decide to start throwing names around.”
Standing up to him throws Crocodile for a second, and you watch his glare falter into surprise for a second before coming back as he stands up and rounds his desk. “Oh, I’m sorry, is weak willed more appropriate? Degenerate? Pathetic?”
He’s standing over you now, large frame crowding yours in an attempt to make shrink back. You don’t.
“Does saying that make you feel better? Or do you just get off on talking like that to your subordinates?” Anger and adrenaline fueled your words, not backing down even when his body moved to cage you against his desk.
“What makes you think you can talk to me like that?” His prosthetic, an expensive robotic hand, slams into the desk by your side but you don’t flinch.
“You’re already going to fire me. I might as well keep what’s left of my pride.” You answer honestly, not breaking eye contact.
Crocodile laughs- honest to god laughs at that. “Well, I guess I can appreciate that.”
Silence hangs in the air as his body continues to press the backs of your thighs into his desk. You’re not sure what to say, only that you’re not going to try and slink away and lose this fight.
“I had to stop Mihawk from denting Buggy’s painted face in. Buggy was getting awfully descriptive to get under his skin.” Crocodile muses and you grimace.
“I’m going to kill both of them.”
Crocodile doesn’t respond but as the silence stretches on you notice the way he’s carefully looking over you, gaze dragging down your face and neck. His hips are square with yours but hovering just out of indecent range and then it all clicks.
“You fucking hypocrite.”
“Excuse me?” Crocodile tone lowers, clearly pissed.
“You’re just like them! Probably mostly like Mihawk if I had to guess.” You stand up straight, chest pressing into his. “You’re mad that Buggy had something up on you. You insecure, petty-“
You’re cut off as his hand shoots up and grabs your jaw, forcing your face to keep staring up at him but giving him more control. You flinched back at the move but try not to let it scare you- the second he actually hurts you your knee is perfectly set up to hit his groin.
“You can dish it out but you can’t handle it?” You fire back, voice slightly muffled by the way his fingers dig into your cheeks.
“I would never get jealous over anything involving that clown. And I can take a lot more than a few rather tame insults.” His grip tightens. “What I don’t appreciate are brats.”
“The way you’re looking at me suggests otherwise.”
Your knee, which was previously itching to debilitate him, creeps up slowly and you can feel his hard length straining against his pants. He makes a noise almost like a growl when you press down and you grin wide. The grip on your jaw turns slack as he grinds his length against your knee before settling even closer to you, pressure held against his cock.
“Just admit it Crocodile.” You whisper, tilting your head so it’s laying gently in his hand. “Admit that you’re jealous.”
“Fuck you.” Despite his words his thumb caresses your jaw and his hips slowly grind into your knee again.
“I’ll leave. You need this more than I do. Say it.” You press you knee in further, getting close to hurting him with the amount of pressure you’re exerting.
“I’m not jealous.” He restates, but there’s less bite to the statement.
“Fine.” You straighten your leg back out and his reaction is immediate.
“Fuck- wait a damn-“ His grip on your face tightens once again and you feel his other hand grab onto your hip.
Despite him holding your face he doesn’t look at you, eyes focused downwards as he works through the thoughts in his head. He moves your jaw, tilting it slightly to the side as he leans down to bring his face to the column of your neck. His breath is hot as it fans over your skin and his nose slightly nudges you.
“I’m not jealous.” You’re about to wrench out of his grip but when he continues you still. “I’m competitive. I’m possessive. Just like Mihawk I thought about you under that fucking clown- and then with him-“
“You probably didn’t even like me until Buggy-“ You begin to snarl but Crocodile cuts your off by finally moving to look in your eyes.
“I’m not a toddler and you’re not a fucking toy. You’ve had my gaze for some time why do you- I remembered you from Marines. I spotted you then and I remembered you and that’s why you’re here. You stood out to me and I chose you to be my manager. I chose you.” There’s a sincerity to his words that catches you off guard- a sharp contrast to the argumentative push and pull.
Your eyes scan his face for any trace of deceit but you can’t find it and you find yourself floundering as the game suddenly changed. You find yourself melting into his strong grip almost against your will.
“Don’t lie to me.” You whisper, now afraid of the emotional weight added.
“I’m not. I haven’t. I won’t.” He promises.
And you believe him.
“Tell me you want me.”
“I want you.”
You surge forward to close the small gap between you two, mouths roughly meeting. His hand slips down to your neck as your tongues and teeth clash in the messy, heated kiss. His teeth tug at your bottom lip as the hand around your neck grips loosely, just enough to feel that he has control over you.
With one of your free hands you reach down and slide a hand roughly underneath the waistband of his pants to palm at his erection. He groans into your mouth as he moves his hips to grind into your hand. Before you can reach your fingers around him your hand is yanked out and Crocodile is stepping away.
“Pants off. Now.” He barks and while your hands automatically go to the fastenings on your pants you pause once you think about it.
“If you want them off so bad-“ You don’t get the rest of that bratty thought out of your head before Crocodile is manhandling you.
He turns you around and pushes between your shoulder blades until your chest hits his desk. Before you can even complain your pants and underwear are yanked down to your ankles and his foot kicks yours so your legs are spread wide.
“Smart fucking mouth- gonna make you shut up-“ You hear the click of his belt and the unzipping of his pants and that keeps you glued to the desk.
“Look at this. So fucking wet. You love getting pushed around?” You feel his tip drag along your entrance and you moan, but that’s not good enough. “Use your words.”
“Yes-“ You whine and are rewarded when his tip presses into you.
“That’s right- that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
You try to think of some clever retort but lose every single thought in your head when he pushes himself all the way into your in one sharp motion. Both of you moan loud as he bottoms out inside of you. There’s a sharp pain that makes you feel like you might be ripped in half but as he grinds himself in and grips your hips it quickly fades into pleasure.
“That’s it- just needed to be stuffed full with my cock- fuck-“ The grip on your hips is bruising as he starts to move, thick length dragging out and then snapping back in.
The sharp thrusts force your thighs to dig into the hard corner of the desk but the pain adds wonderfully to the flood of sensations. Crocodile sneaks one of his hands around your neck and pulls you back just enough so he can bite into your neck, another pain that makes your head dizzy with pleasure. You know exactly what he’s doing- marking you so the other two will know exactly what happened. The thought is electric as you imagine what Buggy and Mihawk’s reaction will be.
“You’re so fucking tight around me- can’t wait to feel you cum all over my cock-“ The hand around your neck grips tighter, not cutting off your air in any way but keeping you firmly locked against him.
His other hand reaches down and presses into your clit causing you to moan and clench around him. You know you’re close but you can’t tell him, all you can do is moan and whine as he pounds into you.
“Tell me- either of them cum inside you? Did they claim you like that?” He asks and you shake your head no- the correct answer. “Fuck- that’s right- gonna fill you up- make you mine-“
You cum hard around him, vision whiting out as he keeps relentlessly thrusting into you.
“I’m- fuck-“ He swears loud as he stops buried all the way inside you, his cum shooting out deep into you.
He holds himself in there, grip around your neck still keeping you up. Both of you pant and you can feel both of your cum sliding out of you and onto the desk below, but you can’t bring yourself to care about the mess. Crocodile kisses your neck right where he bit into it before letting you go and you let yourself lay on his desk while he slides himself out of you. You hear him shuffling around and after a few moments you feel him lightly wiping you off with some tissues.
“Thanks.” Is all you can manage, looking over your shoulder to give him a tired smile.
“You can lay down on the couch.” He offers, head tilting towards the ridiculously expensive couch off towards the side of his office.
“Not kicking me out?” You ask, half joking, half not as you take up his offer and wobble over to lay down.
“Of course not.” He straightens up some of the papers and pens you both scattered everywhere. “I don’t- I would hope this could be more than a one time thing.”
“You were serious.”
“Of course I was.” He stops what he was doing to walk over to you, bending down as he holds your face.
You’re confused, you’re tired, you’re overworked, and you just got fucked within an inch of your life. You were not ready for something that seems so serious. Crocodile seems to pick up on that and can’t hide a twinge of disappointment coming over his face.
“I don’t- I’ve had a long few weeks and I’m not saying no. But-“ You sigh and nuzzle into his hand. “Is this really a good time?”
He sighs, you’re right. “We really need to be focused on this first concert.”
You nod, pressing a kiss to his palm. “You will do the concert and then after we can seriously work this all out.”
“I knew I hired a good manager.” He gives you an uncharacteristically soft smile before straightening back up again. “Rest all you need today but tomorrow it’s all work.”
“Yes sir.” You respond, and you don’t miss the way his gaze snaps back to yours at the title.
“Next time, that’s the only way you’ll refer to me.” He says like a promise before returning to his desk and getting back to work.
You got comfortable on the couch, pulling one of the pillows under your head to get comfortable and rest a bit before you had to get back up. But every time you thought your head was clear thoughts of all three men flooded your head.
Again the only thought you had was of how truly fucked you were.
#one piece x reader#one piece x you#x reader#sir crocodile x reader#crocodile x reader#sir crocodile x you#cross guild x reader#the cross guild x reader#buggy x reader#dracule mihawk x reader#mihawk x reader
60 notes
·
View notes
Text
Riz heard Fabian laughing in the living room from his place at the kitchen counter filling tortilla’s with shredded cheese. Adaine and Gorgug started yelling about something else, and Fig and Ayda had been off together somewhere else the rest of the night so far. This was his chance to talk to Kristen. To apologize to Kristen.
She was currently crouched in front of the oven, rapidly pressing the down arrow to get the temperature as low as possible. Riz wiped the sweat and cheese off of his hands onto his pants and tried to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat. He knew he was in the wrong, and he felt guilty about it. So why was acknowledging it out loud so hard?
“Um… Kristen?” Riz cringed as he said her name, hearing how it came out like a question. He nervously hopped off the counter, landing on the floor lightly.
“Don’t worry, I know how to make quesadillas. I’m gonna put them in the oven to keep them warm until they’re all done cooking,” Kristen said, standing up from hovering down by the oven. She flapped a hand over her shoulder at him as she spoke as if to dismiss him.
“No, that’s not- I just- I’m sorry,” Riz blurted out, fumbling the words. Oh boy, he should have prepared what to say. Why was he just winging this?
“Don’t be sorry dude. You can’t read my mind, how’re you supposed to know I wasn’t just gonna put these bad babies in here to cook.” Riz could hear the confusion in her voice and pictured the pinch in her brow that was surely there. He wished she would turn around so he could see her face to get a better read of the whole conversation.
“No, Kristen, I meant-“
“Oh! Yeah, you can go hang with the others while I bang this out-“
“No!” Riz immediately heard the annoyance in his tone and swallowed. Not a great start here, Gugak. He mumbled an apology for snapping. “I meant. For everything this year. I’m sorry.”
When Kristen turned to look at him, Riz suddenly wished she would turn back around. The furrow was there between her eyebrows, but her gaze was piercing, as if trying to read Riz’s mind. Riz wiped his sweaty hands on his pants again.
“What do you mean?”
“Just. I put a lot of pressure on you and Fig this year with school stuff. If you guys didn’t want to go to classes, I shouldn’t have made you. It wasn’t fair of me to make that choice for you.” Riz couldn’t meet her eyes and looked instead at her freckled shoulder. He couldn’t bring himself to admit to being self conscious about his friends all going off after high school and doing other things without him. What if the only thing keeping their friend group together was adventuring? What if the only thing that kept them all in Riz’s life was that he was a good adventurer?
Why do you think your friends keep you around, Riz Gugak? Are you just a funny little thing that finds the clues?
Baron’s words rang out in Riz’s head. He squeezed his eyes shut tight for a second, face screwed up. Focus. Kristen hadn’t said anything yet, so Riz continued.
“I didn’t mean to make you do anything you didn’t want to do. I’m sorry for pressuring you.” He finally looked back up at her face. She had a soft smile, looking slightly confused. Riz tilted his head, also confused. Shouldn’t she be angry?
“Riz, man. I’ve got ADHD. The hardest part about school is doing the work outside of classes. You helped me, by always being there to make sure I was doing my essays.” She crouched back down, placing a hand on his shoulder, “I really appreciate your help this year man. I know it was super stressful for you too.”
Riz felt his ears droop down. The reassurance was nice, but Riz felt undeserving of it. “You wouldn’t have had to do the work if I wasn’t pressuring you to do it. School isn’t everything, at least not for everyone. It was important to me, so I made it important to you, without giving you a choice. I’m sorry.”
“Riz, I like school. It’s just hard to stay focused on work by myself. I would have told you if I didn’t want to do it, or if you were pressuring me. And hey man. If something is important to you, it’s important to me. We’re friends.” Kristen shook his shoulder a little, still smiling at him.
She must have seen something on his face, his guilt still written plainly there, because she frowned at him. “What’s wrong man?”
Riz just shook his head, suddenly feeling choked up. He should just tell her, explain that he was nervous about staying friends after school. How he was scared about the not knowing the future. Feeling doubtful that they would all stay close friends.
Doubt was kinda Kristen’s thing, after all.
“I guess I just got caught up in figuring out something for us to do after high school. Together. And I managed to decide everyone’s future for them because I was too scared that we would all separate otherwise.” Saying it out loud made Riz sound so selfish. He had been selfish. But he was apologizing and learning and he would try not to do it again.
Riz startled slightly when Kristen pulled him in for a hug, but quickly wrapped his arms around her.
“I think you’re being too hard on yourself.“ She pulled back from the hug and punched him in the shoulder. Ow, Riz assumed she still forgot how buff she got over the summer.
“And hey. Who knows what the future is gonna look like for all of us. But I’ll tell you one thing. I’ll be there, by your side. I promise. Our friendship isn’t defined just by school,” Kristen said. As she spoke, Riz felt a cool, night breeze blow by, though no windows were open in the kitchen. He smiled back at her, starting to feel better.
“Kristen! The Ball! How long do quesadillas take?” Fabian yelled from the other room, breaking the peace that had settled over Riz and Kristen.
Kristen shot up, turning to the stove as she moved. “Oh shit, how many do you think we can fit in one pan?” She had already stuffed four onto the pan, the tortillas crumpled and overlapping. “Maybe we should just put them in the oven?”
Riz snorted, jumping back up on the counter. “We’ll be fine. Just get another pan out, I’ll help you.”
Kristen paused for a second, turning to smile knowingly at him. “We are gonna be fine, Riz. Promise.” She nudged him gently with her elbow and got another pan for him. And together, they made quesadillas for their friends.
#listen#i wanted to expand on riz feeling like he needed to apologize to kristen and fig#writing#riz gukgak#kristen applebees#tbk#d20 fantasy high#dimension 20 fhjy#dimension 20#fantasy high fic
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Vino Veritas - Part III
A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic
Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. NSFW. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. 😆 Part 1 Part 2
III. Just what the world needs, Another Fucking Sunset Wedding
It’s almost sweet. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Frank had been waiting for you to catch the shuttle to the wedding venue, dallying in the lobby pretending to look at an atrocious modern art print while keeping one eye on the hallway.
“You look nice,” he grumbles, taking in your white A-line sundress printed with big red roses.
“Thanks,” you say, admiring his navy blue suit unabashedly, since he brought it up first. “You look very handsome.”
This makes him stand up a little straighter, clearly not sure how to take the compliment, but you dare to think, he liked it.
When the shuttle drops you off at the base of the vineyard you look up the steep hill planted with curling grape vines in their nice neat rows with a sense of dread.
“Fuck.”
“What?”
“I am not wearing the right shoes for this.”
He looks down at your platform heels. “It said in the itinerary you’d have to walk up a hill.”
“Ok, but what was I supposed to wear? Hiking boots? The unfair standards of women’s dress clothes don’t allow for that.”
He holds out a hand, albeit begrudgingly. “Come on. I’ll help you.”
“I swear, these shoes are actually usually the sensible option.”
“Sure they are. Wearing anything that elevates your feet four inches off the ground is a sensible option.”
You sigh, and take his hand, trying to ignore the thrill running through your bones as you feel the strength in his fingers and his arm, as he helps propel you up the incline.
“I can’t believe they don’t have…stairs, or something? Did the old people have to do this?”
“Presumably not.”
“Then what the fuck?”
“Quite.”
Men’s dress shoes aren’t exactly made for rough terrain either, and at one point you both almost slip, clutching each other in a bid not to tumble back down the hill. It’s…nice, you have to admit, to be held close by this man.
He looks at you with wide eyes, for a moment for all the world appearing as though he’s drowning, before that thunderous frown appears. “Fuck this.”
You yip with surprise as he sweeps you up into his arms, and marches determinedly the rest of the way up the hill. Before you can even think about taking it as a romantic gesture, he practically drops you back to your feet at the top, releasing you as though you’d burned him.
You sit together in the back, as usual, though Frank very pointedly crosses his arms and is careful to keep a respectable amount of distance between you.
That shouldn’t make you feel sad, but it does.
The excruciatingly drawn-out bullshit Reception
“I used to like this song,” you muse, watching the dancers on the floor with an odd mixture of wistfulness and distaste. Kevin dips his new bride, and a mean little part of you really wishes he would drop her.
“Do you…want to dance?”
Frank could have knocked you over with a feather, after how he’d behaved earlier. It definitely colors your answer, the knee-jerk impulse to push him away too.
“I said I used to like it.”
“Fine.”
Then, of course, you feel bad. And maybe you feel…a sliver of hope, however stupid.
“Why, do you want to dance?”
“Of course I don’t want to dance. It’s moronic and ridiculous. No one wants to fucking dance.” There is more venom in this statement, than perhaps the situation calls for.
After a moment, a bit softer and with a hint of apology, he qualifies, “I just thought it might take your mind off things.”
If you looked miserable, it’s ironic that for once, Kevin was not the cause of it.
Perhaps this should send you running in the opposite direction too.
“Do you want to take a walk?” you ask instead.
He looks pointedly down at your questionable footwear, but you point at the basket behind you bearing what are professed by a whimsically written sign: Walking Shoes. They’re some kind of slide on deal that will do in a pinch. Honestly you’re willing to go bare foot, if it gets you out of that tent.
The meandering and pointless Walk
“You know, I was actually diagnosed with PTSD after the whole Kevin thing?”
Frank snorts at that, the farthest reaction from sympathy he can manage. “Rich people’s PTSD.”
“I’m not rich.”
“Fine. Privileged.”
That’s probably true. Goddammit.
“Well…am I not allowed to have problems?”
“Sure, just no one wants to hear about them. Anyone who doesn’t have to worry about food, housing, or getting shot by the police should just keep it to themselves.”
“That’s not very healthy.”
He shrugs. “It’s not just you. No one should care about my problems either.”
“What if I care?”
He snorts. “Then I will feel even sorrier for you than I already do.”
“Ok, fine. Maybe not me specifically. But what if…say, you find someone else you actually like. Isn’t it ok to talk about your problems with friends?”
“Isn’t that a terrible thing to do to someone you like? Making friends or a significant other listen to your problems for free, when you should be paying a shrink for it?”
“It’s just a thing people do who are close to each other. They talk.”
“People who aren’t close too, apparently.” He says all this with a surprising amount of cheer in his tone, either enjoying himself, or the walk, or the view…or maybe even your company.
He changes the subject as you round a bend. “So, are you glad you came to this thing? You made your show of strength, you’ve got your closure now that the knot is tied and they’re legally bound to be miserable together, and you’ve fled the scene with his half-brother, whom he despises, which the family surely will gossip about. You could almost chalk it as a win, if you squint just right.”
You huff, breathing a little heavy as you walk up a hill on the ridge the path follows. It truly is beautiful in the backcountry of the vineyard, rolling mountains planted with nice neat rows of green vines.
He makes a good point, but strangely…you don’t feel satisfied. “I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I’m not sure how I feel,” you admit, pausing to incline your head up at him. He pauses too, looking down that straight nose at you, and he is standing very close. You fancy you sense him tense, as though about to take some great leap, and he looks at your mouth with something like consternation, when a god-awful yowling roar travels down the path at you.
You both turn to see a very big, very unhappy cat displaying its impressively large and sharp canines at you.
“What the fuck is that?”
“I think it’s a mountain lion.”
“What the fuck do we do?”
“I don’t know. We’re too far away, no one will hear us scream.”
“Is it a bobcat?”
“It’s not a fucking bobcat. Look at the tail.”
“You should run. It’s going to eat me anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m smaller and slower.”
“I wouldn’t presume about the last part.”
It roars again, and you clutch at his arm.
Suddenly Frank charges the thing, making that god-awful hissing sound from earlier with his finger in his ear. They both sound like demons from hell, and with shock you watch as the predator backs away.
“Now, we run,” says Frank, grabbing your hand and booking it down the hill.
You run what feels like a long way. Your legs are burning, and the stupid little slide-ons are not made for athletic activity. And the thing about running downhill is…sometimes gravity gets the best of you. Like now, when you trip over a rock, and take Frank with you. Suddenly you are both tumbling down a steep grassy incline, locked together in a death roll.
“Fuck!”
“Fuck!”
“Fuck!”
“Fuck!”
When at last you come to a stop you are utterly stunned. “Y/n?”
You just lie there, unable to move.
“Y/n?”
Are you even alive?
Suddenly, Frank grabs your arm, hauling you around. “Ah!”
He looks…so worried, that if he hadn’t wrenched your back, you would have been touched.
“I’m fine! Jesus!”
“Ok. Sorry.”
You lie there for another moment looking up at him. He has grass in his hair; it’s endearing somehow, seeing this put-together grouch of a man just a little undone.
“You saved me,” you tease, sitting up beside him.
“I saved us.”
“Yeah right. It would have eaten me anyway. Why’d you save me?”
“Because I’m an idiot.”
“Oh, come on.”
“Just trying to spare myself the guilt.”
He reaches up to pluck grass out of your hair. His light touch gives you a thrill down your spine. Again, you are aware that you are very close, and his dark eyes have gone wide again, that slightly panicked look he gets. His gaze flicks to your mouth, then back to your eyes, and you are completely taken by surprise when he grabs the back of your head and pulls you swiftly into a hard kiss.
He retreats from it just as quickly, and now he does look like he’s seen a ghost. “Fuck. Sorry.”
“I—”
Before you can say anything he’s grabbed you again, and this kiss is less forceful, though maybe no less desperate. You’re able to reach up to cup his cheeks before he shoves you away again, this time hard enough that you topple back in the grass.
“Hey!”
“Sorry,” he pants again, looking for all the world like a horse that would like to bolt. “I don’t—it’s been a long time. Heat of the moment. Near death experience. Fuck. I’m sorry.”
“How long?” you ask, incredulous. Because, this man is so…so. Fucking. Good looking. How has he not been with anyone?
He scowls at the grass. “I don’t think I’ve felt real pleasure since 2006.”
This admission makes your eyes go wide. You sincerely hope he’s exaggerating, but then again, the way he behaves towards people…maybe he’s not.
“It’s just…” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “If it all sucks, then fuck it, but if it doesn’t? Then there’s so much pressure.”
A part of you wants to snark at him. Well well well, welcome to the human race at last. But another part of you…another part of you just wants to kiss him senseless and fuck him silly, and make him feel all the things you’ve both been missing out on because he’s been such a goddamned coward this whole time and you’re not much better.
Maybe he reads the pity on your face, because he feels the need to defend, “Not that I haven’t been with anyone. Just…”
“You weren’t that into it?”
He looks away, glaring at the world again. “Yeah.”
“It’s been a while for me too,” you admit.
“Please don’t say it was Kevin,” he snarks. “I’ll kill myself.”
You laugh. “No, your brother was incredibly, monumentally selfish in bed. I literally could have had better sex with a lamppost.”
He looks at you sideways. “That really shouldn’t make me as happy as it does.”
Your lips twist as you try not to smile. Frank, however, is back to frowning at the vineyards again. “We can’t have sex right now. I don’t have any protection. It would be irresponsible.”
You’re a little amused, that his brain has leapt immediately to sex, while you are sitting in the dry grass together. Apparently just kissing was not enough—or maybe he’s been thinking about it for a while. You’d be a liar, if you said you haven’t.
“What if I said you’re in luck?”
“I would say that’s highly improbable.”
You feel bold enough to cup his cheek, bringing his attention back to you. It doesn’t take much persuading this time, when you press your lips to his. He kisses you back, his fingers digging into your ribcage, and you’re not really sure who’s more desperate to feel alive after defying death at the claws of a tiger or whatever the fuck that thing had been.
“That’s not helping,” he pants when you part.
“Why? Are you actually into it?”
He pulls you closer with hands on your waist. “Pretty into it,” he admits begrudgingly. You smile against his mouth, suddenly feeling electrified from head to toe. The colors of the world around you seem brighter, somehow. You take him by surprise when suddenly you straddle his waist, perching on his legs and pushing him back down into the grass, your pretty skirts spread around you.
“What—”
You unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, freeing him to the desert air. “Oh…” When you bend over to lick his tip and take him into your mouth you get an even more emphatic, “Oh…”
“What about now?” you ask him as you withdraw with a pop.
He blinks, for the first time since you’ve met, speechless. At least, for a few long moments.
“I think I’d like to be inside you.”
“How’s your health?”
“Fair to middling, for a man my age.” You give him a look, and damn if he doesn’t soften for you, even if just for a fleeting second. “Clean,” he answers quietly. “You?”
“Clean. And fully armed with IUD.”
He blinks. “Like they use to blow up humvees in the Middle East?”
You laugh, throwing your head back, your curls bouncing around your shoulders. You haven’t had this much fun in a long time. “Like, an intrauterine-device?”
“That definitely makes more sense.”
“Well?”
You watch as he licks his fingers, reaching under your dress to push your panties aside and find your center. The saliva is appreciated but not necessary. You are drenched, and his big fingers rubbing your clit feel like magic. “Is all that for me?” He sounds genuinely surprised, like this was a gift from the universe he did not expect to receive. Usually it’s more inclined to deliver a kick to the balls.
“Who else would it be for? The lynx?” He snorts, and in a softer tone you confess, “I have been a wet little mess for you since…the moment we started arguing in the airport.” He blinks at this, dumbstruck for a moment, before kissing you with an edge of desperation you both feel keenly in your bones.
He guides you onto him with his big hands on your buttocks. That feels like magic too, his thick tip at your entrance sinking in. It’s your turn to say, “Oh,” with your head thrown back, his big cock sliding deeper and deeper inside you, until he’s filled you to the hilt. For a moment you just sit like that together, joined, wrapped up in each other’s arms. It’s wonderful.
You imagine how ridiculous you must look, to an outsider looking in. Two people tangled in the dirt, grass in your hair, dust all over your nice clothes. You giggle a little to yourself.
“Something funny?”
“Just…do you ever think about how silly humans look, doing the things we do?”
“All the time.”
You laugh joyously, but you feel him withdrawing from you, that subtle tension returned in his limbs. You realize he thinks you’re making fun of him. It’s like this man expects he’ll have to defend himself from the world at any given moment. Then, from what he’s told you about his life, you guess he has. You don’t let him get too far, pulling him closer. “But fuck it feels glorious. I don’t care. Fuck me, Frank. I need you.”
You feel him relax, and maybe even surrender. He moves for you, and you with him, his thumb on your button and his mouth on your neck as you ride him out…it’s the fastest you’ve ever orgasmed, with another person involved, that shining pleasure ambushing you in the cradle of your hips and spreading outwards. It’s almost embarrassing, except he’s right behind you, holding you almost desperately with arms locked around your waist, his face buried in the bend of your neck. Neither of you are quiet about it, your yells echoing across the empty hills.
“Oh my god…” you pant, resting your forehead against his.
“Can’t say…I believe much in god,” he informs you, out of breath.
“Me neither,” you admit. “But that was fucking fantastic.”
“Yeah. That was pretty damn good.” He sounds so surprised about it.
He kisses you, more softly this time. There is a long moment of eye contact between you; it is vulnerable, and electric, and raw. He is the first to look away, almost flinchingly. Then he focuses on the business of disentangling yourselves.
“I’m afraid we’re about to make a huge mess.”
“You don’t have a handkerchief?”
“What am I, a nineteenth century dandy?”
“Okay, relax, Romeo. I’ve got it.”
You rather cleverly, if you don’t say so yourself, use the petticoat of your dress to avoid staining his trousers as you uncouple, in a way that won’t leave you an embarrassing mess when you return to the tent either.
“I like that dress even more now,” he quips, looking at you with something almost akin to tenderness as you right yourselves. He reaches up to pull another sprig of straw out of your hair with a smirk.
“Frank…” You’re not really sure what you want to say. There’s a pent up ball of something in your chest, and it kind of actually hurts, and you’re not sure you like it at all.
“No,” he answers resolutely, but he cranes his neck down to kiss you anyway. “Want to go back to my room?”
“Yes.”
TBC...
-----------------
ahhhhh I didn't have the courage to make it as awkward as the movie 🤣🤣🤣 but I feel like I need to make a note here bc i'm always writing wildly irresponsible sex practices: always use protection with a new partner. It's just a good idea. And ALWAYS use some kind of birth control, or you WILL get pregnant. mother nature is a bitch.
#destination wedding#frank x you#frank reeves x you#keanu reeves#keanuverse#keanuverse fic#destination wedding frank x you#frank x y/n#frank x reader#keanu reeves x reader#vino veritas destination wedding fic
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
I had a thought about Wish and why it didn't work that I don't know if others have mentioned.
It was made clear to me after I saw this concept art for Star Boy what this film lacked. It lacked a throughline of DESIRE AND RELATIONSHIPS; not just romantic desire, though the scrapped possibility of "romance" is what made me think about it.
Also, just wanted to say how ironic it is that Star Boy is so reminiscent of Jack Frost from Rise Of The Guardians while Chris Pine, who voiced Jack Frost in ROTG, was the villain (and best part) of this disappointing film.
Despite being ABOUT people's desires and wishes, both Asha and her grandfather's desires are nebulous. "I want to inspire people", "I want more". More what? Inspire them how? Their motivations are pretty unclear, as are their desires. The King even points this out, and he's right to do so.
It wouldn't be so bad for Asha to want her grandfather's wish to be fulfilled if the film could make you feel emotionally invested in him and his motivations. Love for her grandfather and a grave injustice against him and others is a FANTASTIC motivation, which is undermined by the fact that everyone's pretty darn happy in Rosas, and there's no sign to indicate that there's something deeply wrong underneath the surface.
The problem with presenting a society that needs change in a film is that you need to show why it's not working, and yet by all accounts Rosas is a wonderful place to live. SHOW US, DON'T TELL US, WHY THIS IS A GRAVE INJUSTICE. You have to show who's being hurt by showing them being hurt.
It's unfortunate that a movie in the same month dealt with wishes on stars 10000 times better than Wish did, but Puss In Boots The Last Wish did pretty much everything better than Wish did. That being said, they had a blueprint for how to make Wish work, and they didn't even follow it:
Encanto.
I love Encanto. It's not Disney's strongest film, especially plotwise, but what it lacks in plot it makes up for in getting you emotionally invested. The music, the tragedy, the character relationships, they all work. And even Encanto didn't have a romance, but it had suffering, desire, and something was wrong that needed to be fixed, and most importantly, it convinced the audience of that.
In comparison, you have a king taking people's Wishes away because he saw the destructive potential of unfettered desire and greed, all in exchange for peace and happiness - and yet we do not see people suffering from this decision. We see Asha get angry about it before we ever see why she should be angry.
People have already mentioned that Wish lacks camp, so I'm not gonna go into that, but it lacks camp and any Disney animated film that lacks camp is one not worth watching.
In terms of relationships, the only one in the film that has any sort of chemistry or emotional complexity is that of Asha and Magnifico. They literally sing a love song to each other in the movie, which baffles me because it gives you the idea of a budding romance/non romantic but loving relationship between the protagonist and antagonist of this film, only to be followed by a heartwrenching betrayal that justifies Magnifico's descent into darkness. And that would have been a fantastic story (after removing the weird age gap, obviously, though Disney's no stranger to that).
There is no other relationship in Asha's life that seems to mean anything to her, not even her relationship with her grandfather, because the only interactions we see her have with him before deciding what's best for him is 1 single scene where she actively avoids spending time with him and her mother to sneak off.
In Coco, we understand how important Hector as a great grandfather is, because of this scene.
In Encanto, we immediately see how and why Mirabelle loves her family and is proud of them, and yet also how she suffers from their exclusion and isolation of her.
The character who is *described* as caring for others but never shown caring for anybody only ever has a moment with the villainous king, who himself only ever has chemistry with her and his wife.
What's infuriating is that there's a deleted scene that, if combined with another scene showing Asha's childhood and why her grandfather means so much to her, would've made her motivation clear.
There's a deleted scene where her grandfather sings a beautiful song, and her and her mother sit there in emotional silence.
Would've been nice to have it in the film.
The most interesting character in the film is King Magnifico, which is why they had to scrape all the nuance out of him in the second act. Asha is described as selfless but is deeply selfish and self-centred. Her desires are nebulous. Her motivations aren't convincing. The character they try to sell you is one we never see.
A romance may not have been entirely necessary, but Asha having a real relationship and therefore emotional stakes with someone absolutely would have. It would have clarified and justified her desires, her motivations.
What a waste.
-
P.S. The Animation in Wish is gorgeous, lively, and well-done, but the rendering, lighting and watercolour effects were badly executed. Please make the proper distinction - the characters move beautifully.
P.P.S. Yeah the music's bad. Say what you want about Lin Manuel Miranda but he's at least talented enough and Broadway enough to know how music can synergize with story and character. None of my criticisms about him as a person extends to his musical ability - Moana is my favourite movie, and he did a fantastic job there and on Encanto.
Apologies for the long post, but after seeing so many rants about this film I realized there's still something to touch upon that people haven't fully addressed.
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
goldleaf
pairing: hong jisoo (joshua) x gender neutral reader
genre: angst, hanahaki au
word count: 1.1k
warnings: no happy ending, mentions of death + implied main character death…eventually, One mention of swearing, unrequited love, the normal hanahaki au things (blood, throwing up, etc.)
author note: um so guess who found out she can actually write angst! it’s written in joshua’s pov the entire time and reader is just kinda in the background (they’re still important though!) also, if you want a lil more info about how i wrote this, check out my reblog! lots of love ♡
masterlist
when joshua sees you with them, he can’t deny that he feels…more than he wishes he did.
he’s sick and tired of the hollowness in his chest but it’s fine. it’ll all be fine once he sees you happy, right? that's what he says to convince himself before looking up at the sky and seeing you in the shape of the clouds and the way the sun hits them and himself.
fuck, he’s in too deep to continue to believe the sorry excuse he’s made up for himself to feel a little better. it never helps anyway, so why keep using it? he lets it go, imagining it fluttering away on a breeze that reminds him way too much of the person always on his mind.
so when the tingling in his throat comes out as petals the same golden like the colour he imagines your soul to be, he isn’t surprised. as he exits the bathroom, he avoids jeonghan’s gaze, promises that he’ll be fine; after all, it’s just a cold—whatever it takes to keep his best friend from worrying. at least he knows his promises won’t be worth much anyway.
he sees you often, your smile as cheery as the flowers haunting him in his dreams and the ones sticking to his lungs, trapped in his chest. he’s alright, he tells himself. he’ll be fine.
he doesn’t go to the doctor. he’s read and seen enough of what’s happening to him, and he knows the choice he’ll have to make if he goes. he knows that the only solution is to forget, but he would never do that. he can’t let go of wandering around in the wheat fields that one summer you two were in the countryside, or the time you laughed and laughed at a joke that wasn’t funny, or when he lost all hope and you were there, making sure he could get back up again and live. if the price of keeping the memories he holds close is death, he’s okay with it.
joshua doesn’t tell his roommates. he knows that jeonghan and seungcheol would drag him to the emergency room against his will, and force him to take the option he’s already decided against. he wouldn’t let them sway him anyway, but it’s easier if they don’t know. however, time seems to choose to leave the bathroom—even when it seems to be going too fast for joshua’s liking these days—when jeonghan finds him hovering over the sink, bloody tissues in his hand and washed petals placed carefully on the side.
the two of them say nothing.
jeonghan leaves, and joshua turns to the mirror above the sink, taking a good look at himself. he wipes off the dried blood on his top lip, noticing nothing else wrong. he doesn’t realize that after he leaves, jeonghan is horrified by the lack of light in his friend’s eyes, the spark he thought would never go out.
jeonghan hasn’t said anything since, lost in his thoughts every time he’s home. seungcheol is freaked out, not understanding the dead silence in the house. he doesn’t know that he’ll have to pay more for rent in…well, however long it takes for joshua’s lungs to finally fill up with your flowers. joshua knows he’s being cruel, but can’t he be allowed to be selfish in his last moments? is that too much to ask for after everything?
he doesn’t approach jeonghan, and instead writes. he writes journal entries in that notebook you got him a few years back, but he never used it because he was too scared to mess up in something you gave him; letters to those he’ll miss. he revises the one for his mother over and over again, crumpling paper like his lungs.
joshua doesn’t try to hide anything from seungcheol. he knows that his housemate’s blank expression means more than what he says. in fact, there is nothing said; their house is a place to rest and eat and nothing else. it’s as if there’s three ghosts, not just a single potential one. joshua sighs, wheezing out more petals. he grabs them hastily, making sure they don’t fall to the ground or worse, onto your letter. he carries them gently in his bloodied hands to the bathroom sink once again, the only companion he seems to have in the past few weeks.
joshua rinses each souvenir of his love one by one, clearing the dark red off before drying them and taking them back to the pile he’s made ever since this started. at first, they were hidden away in a small box on the corner of his desk, so no one would wander in and see them. now, he puts them on his nightstand haphazardly, the dark wood no longer visible under the various shades of yellow and red.
joshua picks up his pen—the expensive one his mom gifted him when he moved away so long ago; he never used it until now. the ink glides smoothly over the clean paper he had taken out earlier. he writes once again.
the only thing he knows how to say now is sorry. he writes it over and over again, signing each letter with the sounds he can barely make in real life, his voice hoarse from the damage done on his throat, and the lack of use.
maybe it’s time for something different? after all, this is for you, and he wants the news to be broken softly. he racks his head for something, anything that he finds good enough to become something real. he drinks the day-old water from the plastic bottle beside him, the familiar taste of blood accompanying it.
he glances at the clock he’s kept beside him since the start, and counts down two seconds; he has no time to waste.
he puts down the words he’s said so often to you that they’ve become a habit but seem to have changed ever since he started throwing up marigolds—a literal reminder of his unrequited love.
it’ll be a bit hard to be there for you when he’s dead, won’t it? joshua doesn’t mind. he never will.
he chuckles dryly, a whole flower falling out. he gets up and repeats his process for the petals before sitting back down.
joshua looks at his handiwork, pausing and adding a few more words before moving his paper to the side, and starting on another letter for his mother.
he stares blearily at the clock again, the red blinking numbers the only comfort he allows himself. it’s a new day.
joshua hopes it’ll finally be his last.
#dokries works#seventeen#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#seventeen angst#hong joshua x reader#hong jisoo x reader#hong jisoo scenarios#hong joshua imagines#hong jisoo imagines#hong joshua scenarios#hong jisoo angst#hong joshua angst#joshua x reader#joshua scenarios#joshua imagines#joshua angst
40 notes
·
View notes
Note
Not related specifically to AA buuut…this came a few days ago.
Welch gave out a lecture recently on the topic of romances in video games which can be found here:
https://forums.larian.com/ubbthreads.php?ubb=showflat&Number=943201&page=15 <<- the whole thing is posted in the first post.
It's a lot but what I found interesting is how they've basically:
said that games can be used as a mean to shape teenagers' perspective about how human relationships work. Weird, I mean BG3 is destined for…adults? I know there are teenagers out there playing it probably, but it's still not a game written specifically for that demographic. It also shouldn't be their business as a writer to teach teengers about relationships. Or adults for that matter. Full stop.
called out older RPGs like Witcher 1 for having an erotic achievement card, saying it depicts sex as a gaming reward and that it's "morally bad" to do that. As someone who played Witcher 1 and didn't particularly like that, I still think calling it "morally bad" it's taking it too far. You can also murder people, including innocents, in most games nowadays, is it also "morally bad" to include these things in video games?
said they were the one who came up with the infamous bear sex scene. The catch is…it appears they didn't write because they thought it would be good storytelling, no, their comment flat out says they did it for horny fanservice. Hypocrite much?? On one hand, this is the same person who considers that fans of the AA route are only choosing it because they failed to see Astarion as anything else other than a sexual object, but on another hand, the same person pushed for the addition of a sex scene in the game that was written solely for some horny fans who wanted to do degenerate things with Halsin. Why are some fans' horny needs prioritized or considered to be non-problematic? Of course, I won't judge fans who like the scene but I still think certain things (like sex with bears) are better if they remain the realm of fan fiction.
admitted to having written abusive relationship scenes in BG3 for the sole purpose of making the players feel bad. The Astarion act 2 scene in which the player can pressure him into having sex, further traumatizing him, is one of them and used as an example in their lecture. I don't mind the scene and don't think it's a bad addition but it DOES make me wonder what other such scenes did they write or contributed to? Surely they can't be the one responsible for those kisses…
I'll stop now since you can listen to the thing by yourself but yeah, it's very surprising seeing how this person was hired to work on BG3 and allowed to push their own agenda (something they admitted to in the past). This is not someone who saw early access BG3, wished to work on it because they wanted to be part of what looked like a very promising future game, no, this is someone who hijacked it and used the game as means to further a personal agenda i.e. making certain players feel bad about their gameplay decisions and lecturing them about relationships and whatnot. This is exactly the type of writer you shouldn't want to work on your game (they said they want to keep working on future games with romance plots though, which is...concerning).
I don't mind if this ask doesn't get published since it may come across as a little bit personal and could attract negative attention to your blog, but it's still your decision if you want to do it. I just happened to see the whole thing being discussed on the Larian forums and well…I'm not in a good mood.
time to bring out old reliable
i wont be watching the lecture because thinking about welch's assbackward perspecrive makes me feel like ive been infected with rabies
21 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
ouverkeel
matthew
vacationhomes12-blog
Vacation Homes
