#im a landed man of standing known in every club still standing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strawberrymatchawhore · 1 year

Text

stargirl

rafe cameron

“and i shouldnt cry, but i love it”

summary- you are a flight attendant for a private jet company that the cameron family are members of, on their trip to the bahamas. you just so happen to catch rafes eyes, new and fresh. just for him.

warning/s- thief!reader, mile high club, power imbalance, DUBCON, rough sex, choking, manhandling, degrading, black mailing, crying, money hungry reader etc. IF THESE SUBJECTS MAKE U FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE PLEASE DO NOT READ. THANK YOU. <3 alsooo it would help sm if you guys would comment or request anything in my ask box for more future reads.

you shouldve known it was a mistake to accept this last minute flight, but they promised to pay you extra cash. and obviously you would never say no to that. not that you complained, one person aboard has caught your eye.

rafe cameron

the both of you making side glances at each other for the first 4 hours of the flight, you couldn't help but tease the man. batting your eyes at him, hand on his bicep every time you asked if he needed more drinks or snacks, swinging your hips whenever you went and grabbed what he wanted.

you were standing in the back of the plane, reorganizing and putting stuff away before landing. you sighed putting away the last bag of chips. turning around to leave the room but youre faced with rafe cameron blocking your way.

“excuse me, but youre not supposed to be in here.” you softly said, scratching your arm with one hand. trying to walk past him to leave the room, but he stands still and slides door shut. locking it.

“yeah and youre not supposed to be stealing from me…. are you ?” he leans against the closed door and raises his eyebrow. your breathing becomes labored as you try to find an excuse. you shove your hand inside you skirt pocket and pull out the money you took from his jacket.

“i-im sorry i just really need the money right now, i’ll give it back to you.. here” you grabbed his hand and put it back into his palm, he grabs it and put it in his sweatpants.

“please.. please dont fire me. this is all i have, i need this. im so sorry mr.cameron.” you apologized, staring at him with your doe eyes. he bit his lip, the room is quiet beside the low sniffle sounds of your crying. you have never in your life fucked up this bad, you were scared.

“what, you think after you took money from my own wallet im just gonna take it back and accept your sad ass apology ??” he seethes and backs you up into the counter, he takes your wrists with one hand and pins them on the cabinets. instant pain goes towards your wrists and you yelp surprised by the action.

“nahh baby im gonna take what i want, and then maybe i’ll reconsider firing you.. hows that sound hm ?” his lips centimeters away from your ears, he lowers his head and gently sucks on your neck. he pulls away and smirks when you stare at him with a scared look on your face, wtf was that ?

“you got something to say y/n ? you let one word out and you’ll be sent to jail quicker than that annoying ass pouge kid.” he grabs you and bends you over the counter, roughly pulling down your uniform and panties. you gasp from the coldness of the air hitting your wet pussy.

“wait WAIT PLEASE !!” he lowers himself behind you and puts two fingers inside, your whined at the stretch and moaned even louder when he put his mouth on you and starting licking. it was embarrassing how quickly you gave up.

“shut the fuck up.” he smacks your ass and continues eating you out. he slurps and sucks on your clit, at this point your juices are dripping down your thigh. his fingers curled perfectly inside you, hitting the right spots. you clench around him as you begin to reach your high. this didn’t feel right, it was unprofessional and humiliating. bent over in an airplane, being defiled by a stranger you just met. but then again, this was your fault. whyd you have to steal ?

“f-fuck oh my god, ah- im gonna cum” you whined rutting yourself against his face being for more. he groaned as you squirted in his mouth, licking you clean he rises and roughly grabs your hair by the roots and kisses you deeply. his fingers rubbing your hole, he laughs at how you clench from nothing.

his hands reach your chest and unbuttons your uniform shirt and unhooks your bra, exposing your chest. the cold temperature inside made your nipples harden immediately, rafes big hands massage and grab at your boobs. you stay bent over naked, heavily breathing. anticipating his next move.

you bit your lip when you felt his warm tip teasing your entrance, annoyed when he doesnt put it inside. instead he moves up and down your folds, stimulating your already sensitive clit. you grow antsy and whine pushing your hips onto his. he stops you gripping your waist in a bruising hold.

“what is it ? huh ? you want something you gotta speak up sweetheart.” he mocks, continuing to toy with you. your pussy gets even wetter at his voice.

“put it in rafe, please. fuck me, i need you so bad.. i just need you to touch me.” you beg, letting go of all your good consciousness. squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment.

“thats it baby.” he groans as he slides into you, eventually bottoming out.

“rafe it hurts, you’re too big.” eyes welling up with tears, he filled you up perfectly. he thrusts in and out slowly. forcing you to feel every inch and vein of his cock.

“aw, i know you can take it. just stay down like this and let me do my job.” his hand pushes down on your lower back, pinning you to the counter.

he leans over you and grabs your face, shoving his fingers into your slightly open mouth. your finger tips turning white from how hard you were gripping the sink. he was fucking you so good, hips harshly snapping into yours. the pit in your stomach growing wider and wider. at this point it was hard to suppress your moans.

“shh shh shh, stay quiet. we dont want people coming in here and see you bent over and getting fucked like a dumb whore. do we ?” he says into your ear, removing his fingers he slaps you and wraps his hand around your neck.

“n-no” you sob, and you know you shouldn’t be but now its getting to you, eating you up.

“fuckkkk, yeah keep crying f’me. it’ll only make me go harder.” he lets go of your neck and grabs both of you arms. holding them behind your back, his tip hitting your cervix each thrust.

“oh g- feels so good plea-ese” you ramble, he laughs at how fucked out you sound. he holds your wrists together with one hand and uses the other to feel the bulge of your stomach whenever he rams into you. you bit your lower lip as fireworks exploded inside you, eyes rolling back from the continuation of his thrusts. he lowly moans and grinds his hips into you, cumming deeply inside you. he pulls out and outs his clothes back on, only bothering to pull your panties up for you.

he grabs the money you stole from him out of his pocket and stuff in in your panties and pats your ass.

“thank you for your services.” he jokes and unlocks the door, closing it once hes out. leaving you to your thoughts.

1K notes · View notes

this-is-a-dystopian-parable · 2 years

Text

"on veterans day after the production show the cruise director stood on the stage and asked the veterans in the audience to stand and be applauded. they did; there were many. many old men standing and smiling, and the applause was deafening.

two films: matrix revolutions last saturday (i wont get into it, but man! what happened to the buddhist promise of the first movie? the enlightenmnt allegory, the idea of awakening into the real world, of realizing that capitalist western culture is just an illusion? why give that up for some c- high school meandering on determinism and some easy christianity? i still had fun though. especially liked bad guys on ceiling, good guys on ground. anyway.) and a reviewing of the two towers (again, i wont get into it, but man! the number of contrived dramatic peaks and valleys made me feel christmas candy sick after a while) in the cruise ships cinema earlier today. in both, scenes of men preparing for war. the masculine shouts of men ready to die. the dramatic placement of a helmet onto a frightened teenaged head. et cetera.

on the ship, fat men, drinking, rude, poorly dressed. on land, thin men, sweating, fearsome, barely dressed.

on the television, bush in britian, defending war. in the staff mess, a collective cosmopolitan grumble.

two books: franzen's the corrections (a book i have avoided for a long time because of its ubiquity; every san francisco party i go to has it there on the shelf, tucked between manufacturing consent and lonley planet: south america. but i liked it), which discusses mental illness in the setting of domestic suburbia, men in depressive states, and thoreau's walden, which discusses individuality and the dangers of blind adherence of custom. "i have never learned anything from old men." what a badass he is! what a man he is!

jts, paraphrasing robert bly: the soft man, the sensitive man, out of touch with his primitive masculinity, with his roughness, lust and bloodthirst.

mcw on masculinity: "the best thing to do to a group of men is put them to war, give them a task, a goal. heres a gun, now go!"

a book from my childhood, real men dont eat quiche. the sensitive overcompensation of the alda male.

on the ship: complaining. companing about bureacracy, about vapid things. men whining over fingernails, life and death unknown.

a song played tonight, in the jazz club, trio: when i fall in love (...it will be forever). i play very sensitively.

jem, drunk, on a college stoop, lamenting the shallowness of academia: "lets get a gun. lets get a gun."

pk, (what is your middle name pk?) on the subject of the hypothesized new american revolution: "historically, people dont rise up unless they are starving."

all of these things.

they fit together, i know they do. here we have men who have fought in wars. here we have men who have not. not just the individuals, i mean the whole group of men, my peers, my great wonderful male friends spread out over america, who have never known the terror of actually having their lives in danger. and our minds reel and rock! our minds shake with religion and politics, wth art and love! going crazy with metaphysical speculation and women and god and music and wind. crazy. the world seems paper thin at times. sometimes i cant tell if im waking or dreaming. sometimes i get sad enough to shake.

but in contrast, in contrast this all seems rather ridiculous, and i wonder if my generation hasnt missed out on something essential. give me a gun. i dont want it. now listen- i dont want it. but maybe i need it. to understand something real, with consequnce that i can biologically feel, with terror running through me that will silence my intellectual nosoul and bring me back to my evolutionary assignment, to live at all costs. i dont want it, i think thats part of it, not wanting it but doing it anyway, because choice is taken from you. because your family will be killed. not iraq or vietnam; more like wwI or II (for europeans), the civil war. our production show "spotlight broadway!" ends wth a les miseables medley. the french revolution. theres a fucking war. "will you join in our crusade, who will be strong and fight with me?". those kinds of wars, where its in your backyard.

i know im sitting here glorifing (isnt there a y in that word?) war from a pretty plush position. what the hell do i know of it. i wouldnt be saying this if i knew. but thats the point, thats the point. my plush position. its despicable, its fat and slovenly, its unmasculine. its complacent. so much of myself and my geneation has become complacent in action, filled with words of questioning spirit and political anger and energetic connection but lacking in the barbaric action that creates history. the emails i get, the pleas to write to my congressman, sign this petition. a lack of action. a lack of violence.

so maybe i need a gun and a war.

but i wont, i know i wont. because im not hungry, im happy, happy with my eyes closed. and the radical left will never rise up in violence, and the fat men on the ship will drink, and articles will be read, and love songs will be played, and acid trips will show us the stars inside of ourselves, and it will be fine and beautiful and under no threat.

and maybe this is wonderful, maybe that absence of terror is a vital step in evolution, maybe grassroots campaigning will actually get compassion into office, maybe peace is a real and viable goal. its a hard call though. it has no historical precedent, this life without fear.

perhaps it will end in global enlightenment, the men in their indian shirts smiling and dancing.

perhaps it will end in global holocaust, the men in their college tshirts picking radiation boils off of their bloated bellies.

i suppose we will see."

Dave Malloy, 19 November 2003

#pointless dave malloy #dave malloy #i wish i had a show of his i could direct this towards #maybe Pierre #my friend fight and leads i sit at home and read?#ah anyway #edit: aha!#there is a bit of this in Ishmael #that longing #that romanticisation

1 note · View note

yesimwriting · 3 years

Note

Would you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader is a bookworm and a crow and basically Kaz asks the reader to read to him as his way of apologizing after a argument that was his fault?

it a/n i did something kinda similar in a 'promise of rain' blurb,, but this concept is so cute to me:)) love it sm i moved it up my request cue lol

also IM IN COLLEGE NOW!! WHAT?? AND IVE BEEN TO A PARTY! AND IM JOINING A SORORITY AND I DID DRAMA AUDITIONS AND AHH !! SO DIFFERENT! I MISS MY MOM AND SISTER AND DOG AND EVEN MY DAD BUT IM HAPPY HERE!!

also im a little worried this might not portray kaz superrrrr accurately bc it's been awhile so just let me know,, feedback leads to improvement:)) also kinda set this up for a part 2 bc...well youll see

They've always said a lot of things about him, and I've always heard them. But I've never quite believed them. Sure, I get why the dark things that have flourished in the poisoned soil that is Ketterdam consider Kaz Brekker the darkest thing of all. I understand the nickname 'Dirtyhands' for the gloved criminal who has fooled each crime boss at least once. I understand each terrible thing they've said about him.

But I've never agreed with them. I've never even considered agreeing with them. Until today.

The thought that maybe everything people say about him is correct in a simple context struck me worse than the silence after our argument. It made me feel like both a fool and hypocrite. Kaz and I have had our fair share of spats over the relatively short time we've known each other, but never like this. Never so badly he stormed out of the room before I could. I squeeze the book in my lap even harder, desperate to focus on the words on the pages.

You didn't hurt him. He walked away because he decided you weren't worth the cost of his expensive time. I repeat those thoughts in my mind over and over again, letting them bitter me further. It's a lot easier to be mad than hurt. A lot easier to fuel your pain than try to understand your mistakes. Besides, tiredness is already dredging around in my chest and if I don't calm down a little I won't be able to fall asleep.

I had escalated the fight more than I should have. Knowing Kaz is like performing in a tightrope act. One must always be aware of where they're going. Watching what's in front of them without ever thinking too much about what's beneath or behind them. Today though, when I needed my balance most I chose to fall. I chose to dive, and apparently there was no net.

"Oh, you're doing that thing."

I roll my eyes at Jesper's voice as I fight down a yawn. I wipe my face with the back of my palm before turning. The burning behind my eyes never resulted in full tears, but I feel better after doing so. "What thing?"

"That terribly noble thing where you find it in yourself to take full blame for every single conflict you and boss man fall into." The slight humor in his voice is enough for me to roll my eyes again. "Between you and me, I'm sure the reason he's so angry now is because you didn't do that for once."

I press my lips together as my chin angles itself upwards slightly. "I never do that." He raises an eyebrow. The slight sympathy that colors the look is more offensive than his accusation. "If I pick and choose my battles, it's for good reason."

"Clearly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs once before further entering my room. I say nothing when he sits at the foot of my bed. "Oh, you know," Jesper stretches back casually, resting his back against the wall and extending his legs, "You and Kaz--Kaz and you."

Has he been drinking? Perhaps he's not here because of my unusual absence from downstairs after my fight with Kaz but because he's already too tipsy to think right. "What?"

At my confused look he grins, flashing all of his teeth with an arrogance that outshines the whiteness of them. He taps the still open book in my lap. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand." Jesper sits up a little further, amusement clear in his features. "You two make a shameful Elizabeth and Darcy--"

"Oh, shut up," I groan, glaring at him, "This isn't Pride and Prejudice. And Kaz and I," Jesper's smugness returns when I can't quite think of what I want to say, "We're barely friends--we're barely anything, let alone what you're implying."

Jesper pulls his legs up and shoves me gently. "Dearest, y/n," he ignores my glare, "You should know better than anyone that 'barely friends, barely anything' with Kaz is more than it is with anyone else?"

"That doesn't mea--"

"You two say goodnight to each other." Once. Kaz and I said good night to each other in front of Jesper once. How dare he assume it happens regularly? He's right, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. "You play cards with him. Not for money, not for skill--"

"It's for practice." The look Jesper gives me is enough to tell me that my defense didn't land.

Damn him for ever finding Kaz and I on one of those strange nights. One of those nights in which he lurks at the stairwell...the one that divides my room and his attic. One of those nights in which it feels like he's a phantom and I'm the only one that can really see him. A night in which we both silently find each other.

I couldn't quite believe it the first time it happened. I'm not exactly a Crow--I don't feel enough a connection to the Dregs to join them without some kind of guarantee--but I was needed for some obscure job. but I was needed for some obscure job. The Crows needed an insider who could blend into high society, and I needed a place to stay away from my father.

It worked. I worked. And with each passing day I found myself enjoying the Crows more and more. That's why I stayed. That's why I started checking the stairwell practically every night, a set of playing cards in my hand.

The first time had been awkward. I couldn't sleep and my room felt too quiet, but the rambunctious club felt too loud and a little unsafe considering the hour. So I settled for the only space in between. When Kaz found me sitting on the steps and playing a solitary card game I had been so stunned by embarrassment I just offered to deal him in. I had been more shocked when he silently accepted my offer.

"Practice?" Jesper repeats. "You were laughing, I heard you."

"That was one time--how do you know we didn't just happen to play cards together the one time you saw it?"

"Because you laughed about a play you considered 'predictable'."

Sighing, I sit up a little straighter. "I'm not having this conversation. Occasionally saying 'goodnight' to someone who lives in the same space I live in and sometimes playing cards with said person because we both happen to be up at a certain time doesn't mean anything."

"And the way he looked at the contact that was flirting with you?"

Oh...this conversation again. "For the last time, the contact wasn't flirting with me. We had to dance to blend in and when he leaned towards me to whisper in my ear...it was to tell me the intel Kaz just had to have."

"And when he tucked that strand of hair behind your ear?"

"He just wanted to sell our cove--"

"Y/n, he kissed your cheek and I'm fairly certain he would have kissed you if Kaz and I hadn't made it to the corridor at that second."

Why is everyone so obsessed with what would have never happened? The contact had been attractive, tall with fair eyes and hair. But it's not like I feel anything for him, nor would I have been so foolish during a job. A fact that Kaz refuses to believe. I'm tired of this argument...I'm just tired. This job required me to start getting ready early in the morning and lasted long into the night.

"I wouldn't have kissed him and even if I had, the fact that Kaz is so mad about feels...sexist." A stupid argument, considering that Kaz couldn't care less if the person he's working with is female, male, or anything in between because the only thing he cares about is profit. "It's a stupid thing to be mad about, but you hit on anything with a pulse at any time and--"

"I resent that--"

"For the first two weeks I was here I thought you might've been a prostitute."

I can feel him holding in a laugh. "Did you at least think I was a good prostitute?" When I glare again, he finally actually laughs. "Not the point--got it."

"Then what is the point? You're bored and obsessed with gossip so now you're shaking me for information you don't need."

"The point is you're oblivious." Rude...I move my leg in a weak attempt to push him off my bed. Jesper catches my ankle easily, ignoring my attempt at a fight. "You thought the contact was only doing his job and you don't know the real reason that Kaz blew up at you for the first time the way he blows up at everyone."

"Okay, well since you know everything, tell me why he's mad."

He lets out a sigh like he can't believe I even needed to ask that. "It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy."

...Maybe he is drunk? "Don't be so cryptic. I don't like you enough to put up with that."

Jesper half-sighs again before pushing himself off my bed. "I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that."

"Asshole," I mumble instinctually as he walks towards my door. "Are you not telling me because I tried to push you off the bed?"

He turns when he reaches my door in order to lean against my door frame. "It's not not because of that." I should throw my book at his head. "In all seriousness, think about it. If you don't you'll either kill each other or kill me."

Ugh...he's so confusing. This time, I let him go. He leaves he door open, which is beyond annoying. I stand up to close it, promising myself I will focus on my book the second it's in my hands again. As I walk back towards my bed, my eyes land on the deck of cards on my nightstand.

Does it send a signal I don't want to send if I don't go the stairwell tonight? Do I want to send a signal? I don't know...actually, the only thing I know is that I don't want to think about this a second longer. I don't ease as I read, but my eyelids become heavier with each word they cross. I feel the weight of them as my focus slips, farther and farther away until I can no longer focus. When my eyes fall shut I can't bring myself to think or force them open.

I notice my surprised before I register that I've just woken up. Falling asleep feels so far and yet the crick in my neck confirms the obvious. Rubbing the eyes with the back of my hand, I push my book from my lap and sit up. The only indication of how much time has passed is how much my bedside candle has melted.

How long have I been asleep? How did I manage to fall asleep? I thought I was too mad at Kaz to manage anything but pouting in my room. I hadn't even decided if I wanted to talk to him.

I stand even though I haven't decided anything. I should at least change if I want to go to bed. But is leaving this alone for even longer a bad idea? I think Jesper thought so...though my conversation with him is far from clear. It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy. I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that. What does he want me to do with that?

Maybe he was partially intoxicated and felt the need to play the role of a good friend. Or maybe this is his idea of a joke.

Whatever--regardless of Jesper, I have a choice to make. A tiny part of me hopes it's insignificant, but I know Kaz enough to know that nothing is insignificant to him. He holds onto things the way he holds onto his kruge. Perhaps I'll seek out Inej, she seems to be the best at rationalizing. Though she might be asleep by now, or on a job or...I don't even know.

How late is it? Is it late enough to be one of the few hours Kaz claims to reserve for sleep? Maybe my bad luck is still around and he's already in bed for once. Does that mean his anger will extend to tomorrow?

I shouldn't care. It's not like I'm in the wrong. Did I escalate things? Maybe a little...but I won't apologize for defending myself. Even though that makes everything a little easier. I feel stuck, like in some kind of place of half sleep. A single knock at my door is enough to make me want to jump. I rub my eyes a little more firmly in hopes of waking up more before someone sees me.

I approach the door without worry. Maybe it's not as late as I assumed. Or maybe it's really early? I open the door while still fighting against my slight disorientation. I'm so focused on acting normal, I almost don’t register the person standing at my door.

I don’t know who I expected, or what--maybe Jesper, much more tipsy than he was before, slumped against the doorframe, only knocking because he’s too tired to push the door open. Maybe even Inej, on her way here to deliver some kind of job or notice of dismissal. But it’s nothing I could expect. It’s...Kaz.

The Dirtyhands stands at my door, expression as hard as ever yet something behind his eyes that burns the sleep away from me. “Uh--hi.” I bite my tongue to avoid cringing at that very awkward beginning. “Are you here to kick me out yourself?” The only response I get is the slightest shift of his gaze off of my face. “No? Well then I think I’m going to bed. It’s late.”

My tone and words are clear. Get out of my doorway, I’m in no mood to go back to arguing. When he still doesn’t say anything, I’m emboldened by my nerves. I push the door between us without breaking eye contact.

Before the wood can meet the doorframe, he moves his cane, wedging it between us. “Y/n.” I don’t understand the way he says my name, but I’m certain he’s never said it like that. “I...” When he’s not prompted by the uncomfortableness of silence, I raise an eyebrow, my grip on the door tightening. “What I said shouldn’t have been said.” Wait--is he admitting fault? I’m so thrown I almost melt entirely. “Not to you.”

The addition leaves him so lowly a part of me wonders if I’ve imagined it. I’m so thrown by it I don’t even think to reply until a long second has passed. “You seemed to believe the opposite a few hours ago.”

His lips press together for a moment. “You didn’t ask me to play cards tonight.” He took that as intentional? At least that got me some kind of apology? I keep my mouth shut, greed making me want more information. I guess he must sense my silent tugging because he head inclines slightly. “Don’t push.”

I fight down a grin. “Push what?” His only response to stiffen further. “I’m going to tell you something as a peace offering.” That seems to intrigue him in some way. I can’t tell if it’s a good kind of interested, but I note the slight raise of his eyebrows and his intentional silence. “I didn’t chose not to ask you to play cards.” He gives me no indication of anything, which is fair...considering my vagueness. “I was mad, obviously, and in the middle of deciding on a course of action...and then I fell asleep.”

A long pause of silence. “You fell asleep?”

I’m not sure if his incredulous tone should offend me or not. If I wanted to lie, I’d like to think he knows me well enough to know that I’d have thought of a better excuse than that. Or at least a less embarrassing one. “Yes, it’s not that difficult to believe. Today had been long and all I wanted to do was read, but then Jesper came in to say the oddest things and then leave me to...”

Oh--oh. I guess there’s a reason people say to ‘sleep on’ something. Because now, actively remembering Jesper’s words for the first time since I fell asleep...I understand what Jesper was implying in the oddest way possible. He meant that Kaz and I...that perhaps there is a Kaz and I in a context that’s more than just grammatical. Wow. I really had to realize this with Kaz right in front of me.

My face feels warmer than it did before, an irrational bout of anxiety forcing me to consider that me might be able to read impossible, embarrassing thoughts from my expression alone.

“What did Jesper say?” I’m too lost in my own spiral of confusion and panic and some feeling I can’t recognize to register how Kaz asks his question. There’s an edge to it, an odd one, but that could easily just be Kaz.

This is most definitely the last conversation we need to be having. I’m still mad at him for his earlier dramatics. So I just shake my head, feigning an exhaustion I could lose myself in. “Nothing and everything all at once.” I resist the urge to rub my eyes again. “I’m pretty sure he was drinking, and I wasn’t really listening. I was just trying to read.”

Kaz’s expression hardens briefly as he takes in my words, and then he exhales, nodding once with the breath. “What were you reading?”

My lips part instinctually, ready to spew off details about the latest novel that’s captured my attention. But before I can let myself take off, the reality of the situation strikes me directly in the chest. This is not Nina, or Inej, or even Jesper after what he considers a ‘good night’. This is Kaz Brekker, the man believed to not have a soul. I’ve spoken to him before about casual things, though most of the nights in which we end up playing cards or just sitting near each other are spent in silence. But he’s never prompted me before. Not in the one topic he knows is guaranteed to turn me into an overenthusiastic, gushing fountain of poor summaries and character analysis.

I guess this is his peace offering. This shouldn’t warm the way it does. He was still unbelievably dramatic and treated me like I’m some kind of unreliable fool. “It’s late, and you know how I can be. I’d hate to keep you for nothing more than a poor summary and honestly, an embarrassing rant about plot or characters, because there’s just nothing as frustrating as when two people so clearly care about each other and both are too stubborn and oblivious to acknowledge it.”

Kaz’s eyebrows draw together just enough for me to be able to make out a shift of expression in the poor light. Perhaps his lingering irritation is preparing to rear its ugly head. The corner of his mouth seems to threaten to tilt upwards as Kaz angles his head to the side slightly. “I can’t imagine that position.”

No kidding. I bite my tongue to keep the sarcastic comment and awkward laugh that would sure follow it away. “Who can? That’s like half the point of reading.”

How can interaction feel so over and just at its beginning all at once? I press my lips together to avoid filling the silence with things I’d no doubt instantly regret. It’s easy to be mad at Kaz in the moment. Too easy. But to stay mad at him when his temper has passed and he returns with some kind of begrudging and admittedly awkward and uncertain truce is another task entirely.

“I’ve never understood your attachment to written words.”

“It’s not about understanding, it’s about everything else.”

“And you say I’m cryptic.” Is he...kinda almost joking? I straighten my spine, too tired to fight and too wounded to forgive. “There’s understanding in everything, nothing can survive on sentiment alone.”

“If you read the way I did, you’d understand.”

His lips press together as his expression remains unwavering in its hardness. “Read to me.”

...Interacting with Kaz in any way often leaves me feeling like I’m wandering through unknown territory. But this, this is undeniably different. So different I can’t even think of a way to react. I watch his expression as cautiously as possible. He’s purely reserved, no distinction from the look he wears during business propositions. Except there’s a tightness I can’t quite understand.

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to fight anymore. Maybe it’s because exhaustion is leaving me partially delirious. Or maybe it’s the weird feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place. That I don’t want to place. “Okay.” I shift carefully. “If for no other reason then to prove you wrong.”

Never did I think I’d end up in the position of sitting in my bed, book in hand, with Kaz Brekker sitting next to me. But here we are. I’m so tired, I almost let out a nervous laugh when he first walked in. So brooding and tall, gripping the head of his head cane as he sits at the foot of my bed, on my pastel quilt.

I’m glad for the excuse to keep my gaze away from him and on the words in front of me. I read out loud, feeling more and more comfortable with each page I finish. But as my inhibitions slip away, so dos my hold on consciousness. My eyelids seem to grow heavier with each word that I read.

“You’re falling asleep.”

I straighten my spine on instinct. “Am not.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to deny something so simple.

“You’re impossible.”

From him, that statement is laugh worthy. “I’m impossible? Do you not remember earlier today?”

From the way his jaw locks, I realize that he’s in no mood to be light about this topic. I don’t understand why. It’s not like I’m the one that wronged him. “I remember your lack of focus.”

Keeping my hands at my side to avoid rubbing my eyes, I frown. “If you want to have this argument again, fine. Jesper is more ‘distracted’ than me half the time and you’re much more lenient on him. It’s not like I was flirting with someone or gambling or doing anything but having a two second conversation. One that I needed to have to get information that you wanted.”

The last time we fought, I had more energy to restrain myself. This could be atomic. I hold my breath, waiting for Kaz’s retaliation. He exhales, eyes not meeting mine. “Arguing with you when you’re present is exhausting enough. It’s not worth it when you’re half asleep.”

This angers me further. I hate that he’s right. “I’m not half asleep.” He leaves it at that. I glare even harder at him, slumping further into my bed. “But for the sake of argument, I’ll drop it. Something you’re incapable of doing.”

At that, his eyes meet mine. I try to hold his gaze, but the harder I think about not seeming tired the more exhaustion slips in. A yawn escapes me before he looks away. Great. “I know when to lie in the grass in wait.”

Rolling my eyes, I shift back slightly. He’s incapable of being less dramatic than this. Still, I can’t imagine the effort it’s taking on his part to not start an argument. Maybe this is why Jesper spent so long implying that there may be a Kaz and I in any capacity beyond a vague kind of friendship. “I’ll admit you’re tactful.”

“Resourceful people recognize that trait in other people.”

Blinking twice, I lower my book slightly. Am I truly exhausted, or did he just compliment me in a way? “Careful, I may start to think you find me tolerable.”

“Let’s not exaggerate.” Okay, now I know I’m exhausted because I think he might have just attempted a joke. Rolling my eyes, I decide not to acknowledge this lightness in fear that I’ll scare it away. “Y/n?”

I press my lips together, worried about the destruction of our peace. “Yes?”

“What did Jesper say to you? Earlier?” I pause, slightly unsure why we’re moving backwards.

We’re in a decent place now, and I’d hate to ruin it. I’m too half asleep to lie eloquently. And it’s not like he’s an easily convinced man. “Oh, he said it so cryptically it took me longer than it should have to understand. And it didn’t help that it was something so...well, you might find it funny. As funny as you find anything, anyways.” Wow...I’ve spent such a long time talking. Rubbing the back of my eyes, I avoid his gaze. Exhaustion and awkwardness mix in my stomach oddly. “It seemed like he was trying to imply that you and I...me and you...” Why is this a difficult thing to say? It’s not like I was implying it and Jesper’s known for his oddness. “I think Jesper was implying that there was a you and I, or at least that there could be.” I’m too lost in a haze of almost sleep to watch his reaction. I let my head rest against my headboard even further. “Isn’t that odd?”

He’s quiet for a long second, and then he finally speaks again. “Odd, even for Jesper.” The response doesn’t satiate me...what’s that about? I exhale, deciding that feeling is tomorrow’s problem. When I blink, I decide to let my eyes stay closed. Just for a moment. The sound of something shifting is what makes my eyes squint open. Kaz is standing, his expression unreadable as he straightens. “Goodnight, y/n.”

At that, I sit up slightly, ignoring the exhaustion behind my eyes. “I haven’t finished the chapter.”

“You’ve convinced me of enough.” A concession? How exhausted do I seem? My lips press together as I think of my next argument. Before I can get it out, Kaz leans forward. He grabs the quilt at the end of my bed and tosses it onto my legs casually. “Goodnight, y/n.” The meaning of his repetition is clear. His word is final.

I find enough energy to manage a glare, but I pull the quilt over my legs anyways. “Goodnight, Kaz.”

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone imagines #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows show #shadow and bone show #six of crows netflix

390 notes · View notes

omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts · 3 years

Text

A Siren Song

Pairing: Robert Dubois/ Bloodsport x Reader

A/N: so I just finished watching the new Suicide Squad for the second time and I’m even more obsessed now than I was the first time I watched it. It’s a brilliant film with actually good humor, a non-sexualizing and actually empowering view on Harley Quinn (that leg scene?? y'all-), the rats?? Rat-catcher 2?? THE SHARK?? FLAG?? Who looked really good in this movie, he might be another contender for a story as well as Harley Quinn so lmk ;) but Bloodsport immediately piqued my interest because it’s Idris Elba and he’s gorgeous, I loved the complexities of his character and I want to write for him and no one else has done it yet?? so shoutout to @honey-im-emotional for the support and push to do it! also love The Bodyguard movie, helped with the inspo <3 and i’m so sorry all of my stories are similar but I HAVE A TYPE enjoy and feedback is always appreciated loves and there will be SPOILERS so be warned, also if you want a Harley one next lmk ;) (it’s so long I’m so sorry lol)

Summary: You’re a highly targeted member of the royal family, the last in your line. Bloodsport is hired to be your bodyguard to both watch and assassinate the men after you. He believes it’s below his pay-grade, but reluctantly agrees, doing so to the best of his abilities. But the closeness brings more intimacy than you two expected, and sparks fly.

Warnings: foul language, sexual content, smut, choking, light bdsm, fluffy fluff, dirty dancing, dirty talk, violence and bad guys getting murdered, mentions of Harley x Reader (y’all sexy dance and kiss), reader likes women, dom! Bloodsport, age gap, alcohol consumption, jealousy, heavy kissing, slight angst, just a good time honestly

Word Count: 3,825

You dangle from the ceiling with your aerial silk, fitting your leg in the loop you’ve created, and dangling upside down. The rope wraps around your waist as you hang gracefully from your marble walls, flying. Your friend Harley Quinn taught you how to do this years ago, it now being your favorite form of exercise and relaxation when you need a moment to clear your head.

As you lightly spin, twirling and dancing in the air with your chandelier reflecting light everywhere, a dazzling fairy floating in a sea of stars. You hear footsteps approach and move to hang upside down, facing towards the grand door. Robert Dubois, a.k.a Bloodsport, walks forward to stand directly in front of you.

You have known him a few weeks or so now, him having to watch your every move and tracking down your family’s killers. He stands and meets your eyes as you dangle, hair falling below you.

“Hi,” you giggle, face flushed with heat. “I probably look ridiculous right now.”

He composes himself so he doesn’t crack a smile, but you see his lips twitch when he speaks, “No, Mrs. y/l/n.”

“I have a first name, you know,” you grin widely. “I’m younger than you, which hardly warrants such a professional title.”

“My apologies, y/n,” he fixes himself.

“It’s alright,” you ease, filling him with a sense of softness he hasn’t felt in a long time. You flip and land on your feet, letting go of your silks.

You don’t notice as his eyes glaze over your body in your sports bra and shorts, something his cold, calculated stare should never succumb to, but he does anyway and he kicks himself for doing it. You’re his client and should therefore remain as such, no conflict of interest or thoughts other than to protect. He didn’t want this job, hell, he still doesn’t know why he said yes. Maybe it was the money. Or maybe it was upon seeing you that first time, in that star-studded gown the night of a charity gala you were attending, the way the diamond littered fabric hung over your figure, absolutely dazzled. The way you looked at him and smiled, like you were used to with all the other nobles and adoring fans. But he let himself believe it was different.

He can’t do that anymore, however, because he can’t allow for any complications. And falling for his boss is certainly a complication.

You look at him and your eyes widen with realization, “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me cover up.”

You grab a tee shirt and toss it over your exercise clothes. He looks down as you do so and clears his throat. This brings a small smile to your face.

“You called me in here,” he gestures to the necklace charm hanging around your neck that you can squeeze and send an instant distress signal whenever you need it. “What can I do for you, y/n?”

“Wanted you to spot me,” you tease, a smile overtaking your delicate features. You have a sort of stunning beauty about you that takes him by surprise every time he lays eyes on you. Which is often. You lay on your yoga mat and sit up straight with that same damned smile.

“I’m here to do a job, y/n,” he says, his deep, honeyed voice coating the way he says your name like heat to sugar. “Not aid you in your workout routine.”

“What? Your assassin training didn’t include sit ups?” you smile, tongue in cheek.

“No, but if you need a way to kill a man with a book,” he presses a foot over both of yours as you begin to do sit ups. “Then I’m your man.”

“Yeah, you and John Wick,” you breathe out with a laugh. “And shouldn’t you be in here watching me already? Not by the door?”

“This room has no windows and no other door or entrance besides the one I was standing by. I thought you would want privacy,” he averts your gaze. “I’m sure it’s a hard thing to come by these days for a woman like yourself.”

You stop what you’re doing and look up at him, blinking, “Well, you’d be right,” you tuck your hair back. “So thank you.”

He meets your eyes, bordering on a smile, “You’re welcome.”

“Is that a smile I see?” you chuckle.

The smile shines, “It was a diversion. And you failed.”

You laugh loudly, “Will the next diversion be an actual laugh?”

“Wouldn’t be a proper diversion if you knew what it was.”

You tap his feet so he’ll get the hint and let you up. You rise to your feet and dust yourself up, “I appreciate your spotting.” You press a hand to his chest and hum. Warmth radiates from your palm and he inhales sharply. “For someone who wasn’t trained, you sure are a fast learner.”

He looks at your hand and back to your eyes, heat sprouting from where your hand touches. His hand flexes at his side as he looks around the room, to the door, seeing if it’s closed.

“I-” he cocks an eyebrow then settles. “I think I should go.”

He watches you look at him with wounded eyes, brow lowered, you open your mouth then close it.

You nod, moving away from him, “Right.”

You move to walk away when he stops you, mouth by your ear, voice dropping an octave when he whispers, “Just so you know-” you tilt your head up almost instinctively to hear him better. “-my assassin training did include reminding people who they are when they’ve forgotten their place.”

You look up at him fully now, “You work for me, remember?”

“I work for money. And you didn’t hire me. I was employed by Mrs. Waller to keep you alive,” he cocks his head slightly.

“So it would be frowned upon by her when you’re unable to walk if you touch me like that again.”

You couldn’t believe he had just said that. Your eyes widen and your cheeks once again heat up, blushing. Your chest gets hot when he doesn’t break the stare like he’s calling your bluff, and fuck, did he do just that. You turn away from him.

You can hear the smile in his voice, “That’s what I thought.”

~~~

“Robert said that!?” Harley exclaims, eyes wide. Her jaw is dropped as she does her mascara aggressively in the mirror. “He’s usually so...”

You tug down your tiny halter top over your head, your bright, flattering makeup complementing the colorful swirling pattern, “An empty void with no emotion?”

She nods emphatically, agreeing, “Exactly! I had no idea he had it in him?” she raises her brow and smooths down her leather black and red dress, “Or that he wanted to put it in you-”

You slap her arm, chastising, “You don’t know that. It might have been a threat to actually paralyze me in a very not sexual way.”

“I say both are arousing,” she shrugs, platinum curls bouncing.

You roll your eyes with a small smile aimed at the floor, “Anyway-” you slip a belt through your tight jeans, hitting at your waist when you cinch it in. “We should get going if we want to get to the club on time.”

She pauses. “Y/n. Are you sure we should be doing this?”

You do a double take, “You’re telling me that we shouldn’t sneak out and have a good time?”

“I know the irony is apparent,” she looks at you with a knowing stare. “But not if it means you’re in danger. Which you are.��

“I know,” you frown. “But I’ve been locked in this house for months, I miss going out and having a life. I’m tired of being coddled.”

“I know, sweetheart,” she sighs, looking past herself in the mirror to flash me a sympathetic smile. She thinks for a beat and finally spins around, “Alright, screw it, doll, let’s go paint the town.”

You buzz with excitement, grinning, “Yay! Thank you, thank you! I wonder who will be djaying...” you trail off.

Harley’s face falls and her mouth goes in a solid, straight line, looking past your shoulder, “I don’t think anyone will be.”

You laugh, completely oblivious, “Of course there will be. There has to be music. Dancing in silence would be pretty fucking awkward.”

“This moment is pretty fucking awkward.”

“What do you mean?”

A deep, irritated voice sounds off behind you, “Because you’re not going.”

You jump out of your skin, “Shit, Robert! You scared the hell out of me!”

“You’re not going to that club,” he folds his arms over his chest. You look over him and his casual, night wear: a loose tee and low hanging joggers. You almost wipe your mouth from salivating. Your outfit elicits the same reaction.

You pinch your eyebrows together, “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Yes, I can. I’m tasked with protecting you.”

“Yeah. And nowhere on your job description does it say ‘become my parent’. There’s not an opening now just because I don’t have one. I am a grown ass woman and I have been a prisoner in my own home. The same home where...” you pause, a lump in your throat at the reminder of your family’s passing. You shake it off, “I’m just tired. I want a piece of my life back. You can either stay here or come. Either way I’m going.”

He gives you a quick once over and contemplates his options before dropping his arms to his sides and letting out a long exhale.

“Fine.”

You somewhat relax at his defeated tone, “Fine, what?”

He relents, “You can go, but I’m coming with you. But if anything happens to you, I’m not to be blamed. I will leave your ass in that club.”

You grin and jump up to give him a tight hug around the neck. He stiffens before slowly rubbing your back. You sink into his embrace, feeling like you were floating in water, now above the surface as he brings you back to oxygen. Harley smiles at the exchange and she winks theatrically.

He glares.

It’s not long before you three arrive at the club, music blaring and colorful lights flashing over the crowded floors. From his stare and intimidating aura, the club staff thought he was a bouncer and let you all in immediately. But before he was roped into working, the three of you bee-lined to the bar.

“The prettiest and strongest drink ya got, sugar,” Harley smiles at the pretty bartender.

“And what if that’s me?” she responds, ebony hair falling onto one shoulder.

“Then I’ll have to drink you later,” Harley gives her a flirty once over and you roll your eyes.

The bartender grins and gestures towards me for my order, I answer quickly, “Scotch on the rocks.”

Robert looks at you, poorly covering his shocked expression. “Really?”

“Yeah, why?” you look up at him.

“Didn’t peg you for a straight liquor type, Ms. y/l/n,” he finally lets his hidden laugh show through, butterflies erupting in your chest. The diversion definitely worked, whatever you were thinking about before this has immediately left you.

“Then this is going to be the first surprise of many tonight, Mr. Dubois,” you return the smug look as he orders the same thing. You both share a look.

The bartender slides you all your drinks, each of you taking a long swig for liquid courage for the night. Harley’s favorite Doja Cat song comes on and she gasps, clapping excitedly when she grabs you by the wrist, pulling you on the dance floor, “Come dance with me.”

You mouth a small ‘sorry’ to Bloodsport who you left at the bar, he shakes his head with a smile over the rim of his glass, watching you guys’ drinks.

She dances wildly, jumping up and down, spinning to let her hair fall in many beautiful angles. She’s a powerful force and your greatest friend. She puts her arms around your neck and the two of you move in time with the music.

“So...” she motions to Bloodsport who’s being forced into a conversation with a woman at the bar. The woman puts her hand on his and he visibly shrinks back and whispers something to her that causes the most horrid look from the woman and for her to walk quickly away. You smile at the relief that interaction has brought you.

“So what?” you spin her around and pull her back.

“Quit with the good dancing, or I’m gonna fuck you myself,” she teases with a lightheaded giggle.

You smile, “We’ve tried that already, remember?”

“Too much history, I know, I know. Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice...” she whispers into your neck, kissing the soft spot under your chin. Your skin heats up under her touch as she drags her hands down your sides, pulling you close to her so that you’re flush against her chest.

You give into her and kiss her slowly, her soft lips melt into your own when her hands tug in your hair. Harley and you have always had a complicated friendship, with enough sexual attraction to fuel a nuclear bomb, but not enough romantic. You love each other but not in the way you both need. You were in love with Robert and she is continuing to explore her sexuality because she likes women and so do you. So as she trails her hot mouth down your neck in the middle of dozens of bustling bodies and you lock eyes with an angry Bloodsport, you knew exactly what she was doing.

You whisper, out of breath, “Are you trying the jealousy trick?”

“It worked in college, didn’t it?” she kisses your cheek, smiling gently against your skin. “And it’s working now.”

“I think you’re just obsessed with kissing me,” you kiss her back.

“It was a win-win situation, doll,” she grins devilishly and you can’t help but agree. “So when you’re done with him, come see me. But right now, I have a sexy bartender lady to drink up.” You grip her hand and let her make her way to her next conquest.

Robert had seen the tail-end of your kiss, his deft fingers clenched around his whiskey glass. He knows he shouldn’t let this sort of thing affect him, something as juvenile and simple as jealousy. But he couldn’t stop that feeling of being stuck, unable to think about anything except the fact that it wasn’t him with his hands on you like that, lips marking you as much as he pleases. Sadness washed over him in a tidal wave and he set his glass down, about to get up to leave when he spotted a man eyeing you from the door. He looked familiar and it wasn’t just attraction he sensed in his eyes but something far more sinister.

A few more men followed suit and began making their way to you in the middle of the dance floor. He had no time to consider the facts, just to get you out of there as soon as possible.

You feel a rough hand tug your arm and turn to face who you think to be Dubois, you smile, “Enjoy the show?”

“Very much,” an unknown voice answers, and you look up, eyes wide. “Now why don’t you come with me for a little talk, beautiful.”

“Get the fuck off of me,” you yank your arm back, slamming your heel down into the perpetrator’s foot. More men surround you on all sides, making it impossible for you to escape or use your subpar martial arts skills. Aerial yoga was a very different ballpark than kicking ass. And you were just a beginner.

You poorly punch a man in the face, only making them all angrier when you’re grabbed from all sides, being dragged towards the exit kicking and screaming. You didn’t want to be that helpless damsel in distress, but as all of these men, men you recognized from your family’s death, were surrounding you, you couldn’t breathe. Their hands felt familiar, grabbing your arms like they’d done that night before you hid in the secret door in the dining room. You had watched these faceless men through a hole in that door, stifling your cries when bullets sprayed the room your family was having dinner in. So while they were coming after you and pulling you outside, it’s all you felt. That same feeling when he wasn’t near.

Drowning.

There’s a hand that pulls you back and you watch, dazed, as Bloodsport puts every man who touched you on the ground. It’s filled with swift yet aggressive and barbaric movements, controlled, expert chaos and it happens within moments. His chest is heaving when he looks down at you and scoops you up in his arms. You’d object in any other circumstances, but this time, head against his chest and tucked in his arms, you were okay.

His voice rumbles against your side, “We’re going home.”

~~~

Harley’s tears hit your shoulder as you sympathetically pat her back.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I shouldn’t have left,” she sniffles loudly. “I should’ve been there.”

You laugh softly, fitting your head into her shoulder, “It’s okay, Harls. It’s not your fault, there was no harm done.”

“There could have been,” she sighs. “I’m not letting you convince me to go out next time, you’re staying here forever.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, “Alright.”

She gets up and sniffs, wiping at her nose that’s now flushed from crying, “Good because I’m serious.”

“I know,” you laugh again, hugging yourself in a hoodie much too large for you, (because you stole it from Rick Flagg) swallowing you whole.

Your eyes wander down the hall to where Robert is no doubt pacing around in your bedroom, the only room not laden with cameras (ironically for privacy). You kick at the floor in your fuzzy socks and think of an excuse to go check on him, even though you’re probably the last person he wants to see right now. You, frankly, don’t care.

“I’m gonna go-”

“Check on Robert?” she finishes. “I know, honey. I was a psychiatrist, I’m not stupid.”

You crack a smile and grip her arm affectionately as you walk past her towards the bedroom. You don’t even take the risk of knocking for fear he’ll lock it and try your luck with just simply opening it. You see him, shirtless with a towel over his shoulder, a low hanging towel wrapped around his waist, while nursing his knuckles. He looks you over once you enter the room, trained eyes on you and the intimidation is definitely working already when he takes the damp towel on his shoulder and dabs the cuts on his skin.

He remains silent and you move to sit down on your bed, the awkward squeak filling the already high-tension atmosphere, thick enough to make your ears pop like you’re in an airplane too far up in the sky.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, drawing his eye.

He hums and steps into your bathroom, washing off his hands.

You frown at his lack of response, “Are you really going to pout this whole time? Because honestly, it’s beneath you, Robert.” You lean forward, watching as he walks out of the bathroom, still half naked, still silent.

The silence is beginning to slowly kill you, especially when he looks this good, water droplets running down his chiseled torso from a hot shower. You didn’t let your mind wander because if the reaction your body is giving from the image before you was any indication, you want him. He walks in the room once again, mouth in an amused yet firm line.

In actuality, he was ashamed of himself. Not so much of you. He would’ve left as that despair overcame him back in that bar. He would’ve left you there and abandoned his mission, leaving you to be hurt. If it hadn't been for those men, you could’ve been killed and it would be his fault. He alerted Waller of the attack, making up a lie about the two of you going for a walk at night and getting ambushed there rather than at a club. There’s a hit on each of those men being taken out as we speak as well as a search for their boss. Even though that still got him chewed out. He couldn’t imagine what she’d do to him if she found out the truth.

Robert walks slowly towards you, leaning against the bed frame, gesturing for you to continue. You watch him, distracted, as he wraps a bandage around his knuckles.

“I shouldn’t have kissed her to get a rise out of you, that was hurtful,” you exhale your words, quiet enough he wouldn’t be able to hear you if you weren’t within a breath of one another. You hang your head, “And it was stupid to go out in the first place when I am in this much danger. I could’ve been killed, and you could have been hurt. I’m sorry.”

He represses a laugh at the idea of him getting hurt, when the two of you both know that would never happen. But as the silence from him grows thicker, the more you start to ramble.

“Okay, this silent treatment isn’t going to work for much longer. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you need to stop.”

He gives you a look that says ‘make me’. But you both know you couldn’t if you tried, and vice versa. He thinks of you as a siren, one of those alluring creatures in old sailor tales that lured unsuspecting men to their painful deaths. As if he has no control of the way he feels about you. Which in a way he does, but he knows better. He knows better than to fall under your enchanting song, but he can’t help but be pulled beneath the surface of the water.

Robert tenses when you move forward and the hoodie falls off one of your shoulders, revealing more of your chest, the smooth skin that lays there.

His chest tightens when you look up at him and sigh.

“But thank you for saving me,” you say, both because you think that’s what he wants to hear but also because you mean it, you wouldn’t be here at all if he didn’t come with you.

He licks his lips and nods his head in simple recognition. He appreciated the apology, truly he did, but a part of him enjoyed the way you continued to ramble on, so he remained silent. This was an old interrogation tactic he learned when he served, keeping quiet always got people talking. He looks down at you and leans to meet your face, hands on either side of you.

“I don’t know what else you wish for me to say,” you admit quietly, fiddling with your hands.

He didn’t know either but whatever you would say, he would listen.

“So I take it you’re not mad anymore?” you infer from his relaxed posture, heart beating out of your chest, fast enough that it catapults to your throat.

He tilts his head down so he’s an inch before your mouth, breath fanning over your face. when he tugs you up to your feet, hands gripping the sides of your waist when he pulls you close. Your heartbeats began to sync up, chest to chest.

“I’m fucking furious, sweetheart.”

You meet his eyes, looking up in that seductive stare of yours you never knew you were capable of until him, and close the distance, kissing him lightly. His arms falter by your side and it’s the first time you’ve seen him hesitate, losing his cool. It’s the most gentle thing he’s ever experienced, everything in his life being forced, hostile, and malicious, while your soft lips against his are anything but. You kiss him like he’s not the monster he thinks himself to be.

“Then let me make it up to you.”

“Fuck,” he grips your sides harder, palm moving to push you closer with his hand flat against the small of your back. “We shouldn’t.”

You search his face for uncertainty, but all you sense is a profound sense of clarity, in the both of you. “I know.”

“Will you regret this?”

You shake your head, hand against his cheek, “No.”

His dark eyes fall to your lips, pupils filling his dark brown irises, lust blown, “You’re so good, baby. You’re too good for me.”

Before you can tease him about the new nickname and object to that, his lips have crashed against your own. His hand slides up to cup the side of your face, drinking you in with his intoxicating kiss. You hum, content, against his feverish mouth and he opens it, vulnerable and on display. You feel his guard still up, tense and calculated, so you rest your hand against his chest. You press a kiss to his eyelid, his cheek, his nose, his chin, his jaw, his neck. He softens beneath you, groaning aloud as his hands tighten.

“You don’t need to be afraid with me,” you whisper to him, tender fingers trailing down his shirtless chest, hot skin against hot skin. It’s enough to make you sweat.

He exhales and captures your bottom lip with his own, holding your face in both of his hands. The kiss grows heated and rushed, like you’re running out of time, as if at any moment those men would come back and find you and take you away from him again. His tongue expertly works with your own, licking the pout of your bottom lip, and coaxing you open. He slides his hand down between your legs, dipping his finger to find the slick in the middle of your thighs. You moan into his mouth, his other hand at the back of your neck when he buries his face in your shoulder. He kisses you there, the crook where your neck meets your collarbone, that damned sensitive spot. You succumb to his touch. His beard tickles your skin and you gasp when he sucks hard, a bruise forming.

You breathe a laugh, “Everyone will see if you leave a mark,” you tug on his hair when you thread it through his coarse curls.

He falls under your spell and there’s something so ironically beautiful about this trained assassin with a heart of gold and the scars to show for it, being so open with you.

His hands, his entire life, have been forced to be instruments of death and violence. But as they slide down your figure, holding your face, and pulling you into him, they’re his greatest gift. He’s surprisingly tender with you.

But then he has enough and pushes you down on the bed, arms trapping you on both sides.

He responds bluntly, “I don’t care.”

You part your legs for him and he releases a shaky breath. He slowly unzips your sweatshirt and it falls off you just as you do the same and tug his towel down. Both of you are bare before the other as you take a moment to drink each other in. You were just as, if not more, beautiful than he imagined you to be.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly as his hand drapes down the line of your figure. He touches you how someone would handle a glass vase filled with flowers.

You take his face in both of your hands and kiss him, “So are you.”

“I don’t think you know what you do to me, baby.” His hand finds your breast and squeezes while he kisses your neck.

You moan when he uses his other hand to grip your neck, thumb against your pulse point, “If it’s anything like how I feel right now, then yes, I do.”

He lifts his head up to watch your face as he chokes you, softly so he doesn’t hurt you but hard enough to play with your breath. His thumb opens your mouth and your legs tremble.

“So I take it you’re into choking, my love?” You nod excitedly, unable to speak, and his grip tightens.

You let out a squeak and he releases, face etched with worry, kissing your neck where he touched you. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head and smile comfortingly, “No, baby, I’m okay. I’ll tap out if it’s too rough, I promise,” you tease.

His grumbling voice deepens, “Good... because, darling, right now all I want to do is bury my face in between those gorgeous thighs of yours.”

You inhale sharply when he opens your legs once again, looking up at you and you nod in consent.

“I need words, beautiful,” he smirks with his mouth just above your center.

“Yes, please,” you breathe out and he responds with a swift lick to your pussy. He looks up at you and when he catches your eye, it’s as if the sensation grows stronger and your head hits your pillow.

“I’ve barely even touched you,” he mumbles into you and you feel his smug smile in your thigh. His fingers dip into you as he flattens his tongue and crooks them towards himself, you grip your sheets.

“Don’t... flatter yourself,” you sigh out. “I-it’s just been awhile.”

He removes his mouth and fingers from you, “So anyone can make you feel like this?”

You enjoy the feeling you get when he looks at you like that, his eyes dark and dominant, so you play along and nod. “Yes, in fact, I’ve had better.”

He licks his lips and gets up from the bed. He opens his drawer and you sit up to look what he grabs: a belt. Your heart beats excitedly in your chest even though you know you shouldn’t be. He gets back on the bed and climbs over you.

Robert looks at you, “Hands.”

You extend them to him wordlessly, watching as he ties your wrists together and puts them over the bedpost so you’re trapped there, unable to move.

“Now,” he holds himself above you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You’re to stay tied up until I say so, anything like that again and they get tighter. Nod if you understand me.”

You nod emphatically. You had never seen this side of Robert before, so in control and not afraid to go too far, it was so unbelievably sexy.

The best part was he didn’t tie it tight enough, afraid of hurting you, so you could easily slip out your hands at any moment.

He kisses, painfully slow, down your chest and wraps his lips around your nipple. He swirls his tongue around the erect bud and you gasp, desperate to touch him. He looks up at you from you chest as he switches to the other, massaging the unattended one as he sucks, the pleasurable feeling overwhelming you. So much so you have to clench your thighs together, longing for some sort of relief for the tension building in your abdomen.

“Baby, please,” you whine, squirming beneath him.

He shuts you up with a bruising kiss while his hand slips down to enter you, two fingers in already. He pumps them in and out of you before sliding back down the expanses of your body and letting his mouth latch onto your clit. He sucks hard and you stifle a loud moan that would surely alert everyone in the home of your arousal. He holds you down against the bed with a palm flat against your stomach as you begin to lift your pelvis. His tongue enters you while his fingers take over, stimulating you with gentle rubs and flicks. But just before you feel that euphoric release, his actions cease and you’re left hot and flustered.

“Robert,” you look at him with a deep frown.

He grins, “Y/n...”

You blow hair out of your eyes, “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” He puts his lips near your ear, “Are you ready?” You nod as he pushes himself inside you and you bite back a moan into his shoulder.

You finally have enough, slip your hands out, and he pinches his brow, unable to hide his shock before you bring him down to press your lips against his. He melts into you, arms wrapped around you while he holds you close, filling you out in all the right places. He quickens his pace and you whine into his mouth, nails digging into his skin. You wrap your legs around his torso and he hits you so nicely. He was right, it’s the best you’ve ever had. He rises and looks at you, lips swollen and red from kissing, eyes clear and pupils large, and face flushed with heat. Your hair is in messy tendrils at all angles and you’ve never been more attractive.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises in your ear, placing kisses across your jaw. “Taking my cock so well.”

You whimper and his movements stiffen as he approaches release and so do you, walls tightening around him. He reaches down and rubs your clit with his expert fingers. You finish together, mouths open and hands all over each other’s bodies. It overcomes you in a tingling, perfect sensation, it continues on, leaving you aching and wanting more.

He rubs his knuckles over your cheek, softly and adoringly he looks at you. You tuck yourself into his arms under the blankets. Everything you both have wanted for a long time, laying right in front of you.

“Still want to make me not walk?” you tease, looking up at him.

He kisses your eyelids and you giggle, “Fuck yes.”

Part 2?

#harley quinn #harley quinn x reader #rick flagg #bloodsport #bloodsport x reader #robert dubois x reader #robert dubois #idris elba #suicide squad #suicide squad 2 #dc #dc smut #dc fanfiction #fanfiction #smut

299 notes · View notes

heyitsyn · 3 years

Text

Prove Me Wrong

M!Reader x Oikawa

a/n: SDKLFJSLDKFJDLSKF OKAY I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I LAST UPDATED BUT I REALLY INVESTED MY TIME INTO RESEARCHING AND READING FANFICS WITH AN M!READER BC I REALLY DIDNT WANNA GET IT WRONG SO I APOLOGIZE IF I DID SOMETHING WRONG AND I HOPE THIS ANON LIKES IT!!!

anon:

-heres an interesting thought. what about flamboyant oikawa with a cold boyfriend😳😳

YEYYY I FINALLY UPDATED

LETS GET STARTED SHALL WE?

okayokayokay

so in the request above

this is a m!reader

meaning you will be male in this one so hehe yep the story starts now

you are,,,

distant

and cold

but its mainly just because you were,,,

too tired to actually put in the effort of socializing

between bouncing between part-time jobs to care for your siblings and to schoolwork and book club

the mans can only do so much

so you spend most of your time in school just trying to catch up on sleep bc youre too busy studying up all night for exams since yanno

✨gRaDuaATiOn✨

unfortunately for you, your class had the famous manwhore oikawa tooru

why is that a bad thing?

well, imagine just trying to get some shut eye and suddenly, you just hear a bunch of screaming girls and it gets louder the closer the guy approaches your classroom and when he opens it,

the screams become 10x bass boosted

then imagine that with your sensitive hearing

now,,

it does bother you but it wouldnt bother you as much if he told them to leave

BUT NOOOOOO

he decides to let them in and chat with them and flatter them and continue with that bs until the bell rings

even then,

the girls in your class cant help but keep giggling at him and he always whispers in that obnoxious voice and youre just like two seconds away from ripping his tongue out

now

you dont hate him

you just genuinely dislike his way of living

and the way he talks

and the way he acts

yea see?

no hate

theres a difference

then there was that one time that you got so fed up with it that when oikawa settled on his seat and the fangirls circled him like some cult

they started talking to him all at once trying to get his attention

so it was a garbled mess of sounds and you growled, burying your face deeper in your arms because you would snap really really soon

then one girl shrieked when oikawa smiled at her and then you really just let go of all bearings

your chair made a squeak as you shot up, palms slamming against the wooden desk and your eyes glaring straight at them

‘go back to the farm, ya squealing pigs’

DSKFJLSDFKJSDFKDJS SORRY I LOVE TSUMU

this made everyone silent-even the others in the class just minding their own business

they all knew you as the quiet kid who didnt really talk much but those who did were really scared at you and the way you talked to them with such a cold and monotonous voice that they started spreading rumors about you

even absurd ones like your eyes are so cold bc youve killed so many people that you have no life and empathy left

LIKE WHAT THE HECK YOU STRUGGLED TO GET A SPIDER OUT OF YOUR SISTERS ROOM THE OTHER DAY LIKE EXCUSE YOU

but apparently they were just,,, so scared of you that when you finally got done with them and bursted out, the girls started crying

YALL KNOW THE SAYING LIKE HELL HAS STARTED WHEN THE QUIET KID SNAPS

the females run out of the room scared and the others nervously looks at you

your eyes sweeped through the room and each one of them flinched when you made eye contact with them

YES ASSERT OUR DOMINANCE M/N

the only who didnt was oikawa tooru himself

your eyes landed on him and he still had that stupid smug look on his stupidly gorgeous face and you wanted to ki-WAIT NO SLAP it off of him

‘the hell you looking at?’

you grumbled at him and he just merely shook his head with a smile

‘you remind me a chihuahua, m/n-chan. so cute when its angry’

‘HAH?!’

now it isnt a surprise to hear oikawa tooru say that to a boy bc wowza the school loves him so much that hes a bi icon in seijoh and hes such a king like who cares?

but they were surprised to see you turn red, the tips of your ears to the base of your neck were all flushed

‘see? so cute, right, everyone?’

KSDFJLSDKJFS

THE NERVE OF THIS MAN

the class didnt say anything except just put their heads down bc as much as they wanted to agree with oikawa at how suddenly hot you looked, they were too scared that you might plummet their faces to the ground

maybe thats when everyone started noticing you more

again, you were very quiet, you didnt talk much, you just sat there and listened so obviously you didnt really stand out but then that outburst made you more noticeable

you started seeing girls in your class staring at you then blush and look away abashedly

then the guys in your class started greeting you, even people in the hallways

ngl the attention you suddenly got was overwhelming

especially when oikawa seemed to call out to you all the time now

as you were walking down the stairs, hed see you and he’d shout and wave to you

‘m/n-chan! hiii!!!!’

his loud voice would make everyone turn and look at you and you dont do well with public attention so you turn red and you glare at him

‘shut the hell up, idiot. and dont call me by my first name. we’re not friends’

you turned to walk in the classroom but you looked at him again after taking a few steps

there he was

smiling and giggling with those girls

all he does is smile and giggle and shit

its so damn fake that you cant believe everyone fell for it and the worst thing is oikawa’s doing it to get everyone’s acceptance and validication

it was pathetic and disgusting

poor oikawa :(

now on to baby flatttykawa side,

he was kinda hurt by that

like how the heck are you not friends when youve been going to high school for 3 years?

sure, its only been casual greetings and him waving at you when yall made eye contact

but its still something, right?

right?

when you walked back into the classroom, tooru cant help but feel down at the declaration of the lack of friendship you had

his form slouched and his eyes trailed down but the voice of some girl brought him back to where he was and to fix his attitude

‘oikawa-san? are you okay?’

the others muttered in concern with her but they were eased when he raised a peace sign with the signature smile

‘yep! all good!’

GOD I REALLY CANT STAND IT WHEN HE USES A FACADE TO EVERYONE BUT LIKE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH BC HES SUCH A STRONG CHARACTER THAT DOESNT BREAK AND HES SO INSECURE AND IT PAINS ME SO MUCH THAT HE FEELS THE NEED TO HIDE BEHIND A MASK EVERYDAY AND AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

truth be told,

oikawa has always noticed you

not only do you work at the one bakery with his milk bread but you also work at the convenience store that the team sometimes visits

then he also noticed you picking up your brother from the volleyball practice that takeru’s part of and he cant help but frown at the eyebags under your eyes that he always sees

he lies awake at night just thinking how you would look without those eyebags, without the sickly looking complexion, or even just the lack of life in your eyes

then during class, you sat by the window

tooru knows this bc his eyes always fixes itself on you whenever he opens that door and he has to hold in the need to hug you when he sees you sleeping on your desk

others might call you lazy

others might call you a video game all nighter kid

but they dont notice the things you do

the nervous habits hes seen from you at the times that tooru couldnt help but stare

he knew it was creepy to do it

but you were so silent

you blended yourself into the background and you made sure to stay there

thats why nobody knows anything about you

with good looks like yours and a smart brain (he knew this from mattsun and makki being your students), why exactly were you not known?

maybe thats why it drew you to him

all his life he chased,

but now hes the one chasing?

tooru knows that your left eyebrow lifts when sensei writes something you dont understands

tooru knows that you like to do sudoku in the convenience store while you worked

tooru knows you eat the same meal during lunch every day from the same lunchbox

and he also knows that your brother talks so highly about you from takeru

the little things your brother brags about like your ability to cook f/f or your weird ability to just assemble something without looking at the instruction manual

he notices and knows all these things about you

things that people never really even bothered to

oikawa didnt even know he liked you until iwaizumi pointed it out during lunch

the third years liked to go and eat at the rooftop where it was nice and windy

oikawa was sitting and leaned against the tall wire fence, his eyes fixated on you down below on the bench as you ate your lunch

then you accidentally loosened the chopsticks causing your food to slip off

that made oikawa giggle

he was chuckling and giggling that the others noticed him when he suddenly went quiet

‘oi, oikawa’

makki nudged him back to them and tooru flinched before smiling at them

‘hm? so you do notice me!’

iwa glared

‘idiot. of course we do. youre laughing over there like some damn schoolgirl. did one of your fangirls posses you or something? if not, cut it out. its ugly’

oikawa shot him an offended look

‘what?! iwa-chan so mean!’

mattsun took the liberty to peer over the edge to see what he was looking at and smirked

‘eh? were you looking at l/n-sensei?’

oikawa blushed, feeling like he just got caught doing something bad

‘and what about it? im looking at you too, right now, mattsun!’

makki cackled at oikawa’s poor attempt of reasoning

‘i mean, i dont blame you. if issei wasnt here, id definitely get with him’

SEDKLFJSDLFISDKFJ MATTSUHANA YALL :”)

oikawa’s eyes wandered back down to you and he noticed you put the bento box to the side before sneezing

‘gosh, even his sneeze is cute’

he mumbled then jolted when he heard his own words

iwa sighed

‘what are we going to do with you, shittykawa?’

‘what?! what did i do?!’

iwa’s eyes scrunched and he scrutinized his best friend

‘boke. i feel bad for that kid, doesnt know this stupid idiot likes him’

so thats how oikawa came to terms of it

he thought he was just interested and fascinated with you but he really does like you

and to be honest, he doesnt really want you to know that bc duh, you dont like him so why bother?

baby oiks doesnt interact with you much anymore bc he knows you get uncomfy with attention but he still does look out for you and decides he should just admire from afar

he will live every day just holding his feelings in for you and one day they will disappear

but today just wasnt the day

maybe today was the start of the worst yet the best part of your life

last night was particularly rough as the convenience store you worked in had a drunk person who wanted to fight with you and your manager had to call the police and it was just a mess

to add on to it, midterms were around the corner-like next week- so you were studying up for that

but your sister got sick so you were also trying to take care of her and making sure her fever was going down and her crying ever few hours about her tummy ache didnt allow you to sleep

hehehe single parent working late tingz

ALSO SHE DOESNT HAVE MISS RONA JFC

so yep haha you did NOT get any sleep

so you walked into school that morning, looking tired as hell and mad as hell but you just wanted to sleep bro

the one kid you tutor, matsukawa issei, and his friend who usually tags along, hanamaki takahiro, noticed you dazedly pass them in the hallway and poor dudes felt bad for you

mattsun actually pays you to tutor him bc he knows you need the money while taka preferred to buy you snacks and drinks as compensation

so it was normal that he had an energy drink in his bag that he was going to give you tomorrow during your tutoring day

‘oi! l/n!’

your head perked up at the call of your name and you nodded in greeting at the light brown haired boy

‘hey’

you muttered and mattsun placed his hands on your shoulder to keep you upright

‘oi, l/n, you sure you want to be here? you can go home and we can tell them youre sick or some-’

but you waved your hand

‘nonono todays an important lecture so i cant miss it’

the two guys didnt look convinced but they respected your need to be in school since they too need to be in class for midterms

‘here. at least take this’

makki placed a drink on your hand and you nodded and gave them a small smile

‘thanks’

you mumbled before wandering off

once they saw you at a distance away, makki wrapped an arm around issei to get his attention

‘ya think we should tell oikawa to keep an eye on him? make sure he doesnt keel over and die or somethin?’

mattsun stopped before nodding

‘yea thats a good idea’

SKLFJLSDKJFD NOT MATTSUHANA BEING YOUR PARENTS

oikawa was already in class when you walked in and he cant help but tear his eyes away from the girls to you as you sluggishly walked to your seat

the drop of your bag and the thud of your head meeting the desk made him worried bc you looked worse than usual

his phone buzzed and he checked it to see a message from mattsun

‘keep an eye out for your boyfriend. mightve been working late last night and yanno how he is. just watch out if he faints or something’

okay that made him super worried

totally ignoring what mattsun called you, oikawa knew he needed to talk to you

but these fangirls were the first problem

he shut his phone off and looked up at them with a grin that made them madly blush

‘ladies, class is about to start. oikawa-senpai would hate for you to be marked. so study hard for me, okay?’

like hypnotized cult members, the girls ran to their classrooms and tooru finally had the opportunity to talk to you

he stood up and walked over to your seat

‘m/n-chan’

he called out, looking down at you

‘m/n-chan’

he tried again and was about to put a hand on your shoulder when your hand snatched it

‘dont touch me, oikawa’

you grumbled and tooru furrowed his eyebrows

‘m/n-chan, i just wanted to ask if youre okay’

he whined and you didnt bother to look up but just let go of his hand

‘i was until you came over, idiot’

ouch

tooru was thankful that the teacher came in then and there bc he didnt know how to respond to that

he wanted to brush it off but it hurt him a little

and he knows he shouldnt entertain his crush on you but he couldnt looking at you and watching as you got up to use the bathroom

as class went on, oikawa was starting to worry

now again, hes no stalker bc his observation skills were just phenomenal due to volleyball

so he noticed that youve been in the bathroom for like 20 minutes now

DONT JUDGE US, OIKAWA. WE’RE JUST TRYING TO PUSH OUT THE BIG PIECE OF-

okay nevermind

anyways

tooru, worried that something happened, raised his hand to go and use the bathroom and the sensei wasnt exactly paying attention so he just let him go

thank god he has long legs bc he was able to reach the bathroom quick and he stifled a shriek when he saw your passed out form inside

‘M/N-CHAN!’

he yelled and he cursed when duh you were alone and who knows how long youve been there

and ew bathroom floors is bleh

you were in no way light but you werent exactly heavy either so he was able to muster up all his strength and hoisted you on his back

tooru’s heart thrummed in his chest and he knew it couldnt be that serious but he cant help but think of the worst

and yep

the nurse just told him that your heartbeat was okay and you were snoring so you mustve been exhausted by the dark circles in your eyes

‘keep an eye on him for me. i have to tend to midoriya over there. the kid broke his arm again and i dont know how’

she grumbled at the end but tooru didnt care as he sat on the chair next to your bed

he sighed before laying his head on the cot by your hand

his eyes settled on your face and how peaceful it looked

gosh, you really were so cute

your personality just sucked ass

constantly telling him to shut up and calling him idiot

hmph

not long after oikawa fell asleep, you woke up and cursed, immediately realizing you fainted and you missed class

as you were going to rub your eye, there was weight on your hand and you looked down to see a head full of brown hair that could only belong to a certain someone

a certain idiot

‘oi. oikawa, wake up’

you shook his head and when he didnt budge, you just pulled your hand from under him making him jump awake

at first, he was confused

looking around like a lost puppy and his eyes bleary

yea it was cute and what about it

then he noticed you sitting up and he smiled

‘you feeling better, m/n-chan?’

he asked, leaning close

but you placed your hand on his face to push him away

‘yea. and stop leaning so close, idiot’

you grumbled and he whined

‘youre so mean, m/n-chan! i was so worried about you!’

he complained and you rolled your eyes

‘i didnt ask you to be, idiot’

SLDKFJSDLKFJKL M/N IS SO MEAN WHAT THE FAK

oikawa frowned

‘i cant help it. i like you, m/n-chan’

you froze, looking at him with scrunched eyebrows

then you chuckled dryly

‘yea, okay sure. im okay now so you can go to class’

wOW OIKAWA DESERVES BETTER WHAT

tooru was taken aback

‘wh-what? thats it? after i just told you that i liked you?’

you blinked at him

‘what do you want me to say about that, oikawa? how do you want me to react? im not like your fangirls, squealing and shit’

your words cut deep in him and oikawa held your arm

‘no wait a minute. what do you mean by that? do you not believe me?’

‘who the hell believes something that’s fake?’

there was a snip in your tone and oikawa knew you were talking about this facade of his

‘what? i-’

‘you think i believe you? you telling me you like me? do you even know who you are?’

you asked and tooru sniffled, eyes staring at your chest

‘for years, you told people what you wanted them to hear, regardless if you meant them or not. not once have you ever told them no. who the hell accepts chocolates when they dont even like them to begin with?’

at that last part, oikawa snapped up to meet your eyes

‘how did you know’

you rolled your eyes

‘our brothers are friends, idiot. he gave him some of the chocolates you gave to takeru since the brat couldnt eat them all’

oddly, that brought some warmth in tooru’s chest

so he wasnt the only one who knows the stupid stuff

but you continued on your rant

‘for a guy who doesnt like sweet stuff, youve accepted their nasty treats all the time, like why? oh, wait i know why, because you want them to like you. it doesnt matter if-if this-this persona of yours isnt real because as long as they like you, you dont give a fuck. isn’t that true? am i right? because please, prove me wrong’

maybe your dislike for him came out at that tangent and you half expected him to cry but you were surprised when he glared at you with teary eyes

‘i will. ill prove you wrong, m/n, that i do like you and i will make you like me. ill make you like me with the real me. i swear.’

‘mhm. okay. sure, oikawa’

do you regret it?

i mean,,,

kinda?

but not really?

because you loved watching the girls faces fall when oikawa rejected their treats the next day

you were walking to class when you noticed him with his cult by the entrance and you saw him smiling at some girl before gently pushing away a can of cookies

‘gomen. i actually dont like sweets that much anymore. if you want, you can give me milk bread?’

you stopped and oikawa caught your eye and he grinned

you nodded in greeting before continuing to walk

but he noticed a small smile on your face and gosh oikawa sighed like a lovesick fool

it took iwaizumi to finally send him back and his fangirls were looking at him worriedly

‘could you be less obvious, shittykawa?’

rip iwaizumi hajime in episode 546546546 of daily adventures of oikawa tooru

you noticed that oikawa has started to become distant with his fangirls and hes been sticking to you during lunch, leaving behind the others

makki and mattsun looked like proud parents as they peered down over to you flicking oikawa’s forehead and they smiled

‘god, that kid deserves this’

‘hah? that sounds like more of a punishment to me. but i dont care. it takes him off our hands for a while’

IWA I SWEAR HES SO MEAN BUT HE STILL WUVS TOORU SO ITS OKAY

oikawa would pick your brother up and take him home when youre too busy to go get him yourself and sometimes, he even takes your little sister too which causes them to have a mini sleepover and you sleep there too

also, whenever youre working in the convenience store, tooru would buy sandwhiches and a drink just for you so you can eat them while youre on break and not have to waste money and you told himyou dont want him spending money on you but he doesnt wanna hear it

‘i dont want you buying me-’

‘ssshhhh dont. im doing this because i want to and becaus i care for you, m/n-chan’

overtime,

yea

sure

youve started to like him

youve started looking forward to seeing his stupidly cute face and his stupidly cute giggle

you went to his games and gave him a tight hug when hes about to play as a ritual for good luck and you would open your arms for him wide whenever he wins

then he didnt

against shiratorizawa, you noticed how he was so disappointed

even as you walked home with him, he continued to smile and tell you how good his team played

until you couldnt take it anymore

you pulled him over to some alleyway and you pushed him to the wall

DSKLFJLSDKFJLSDFJ WOW WHAT

oikawa nervously fiddled with his jacket and gave you a shaky smile

‘m/n-chan, what are you-’

‘tell me what youre feeling right here, right now. no bullshit, no lies, tell me everything in that pretty head of yours’

you deadpanned and tooru looked away

‘im fine’

‘are you lying to me, tooru?’

your voice was even but he could tell you were serious

he gulped before taking in a shakey breath

‘im fine. so stop asking about it!’

he exclaimed and you sighed

‘listen, i know its not official yet but you want me to be your boyfriend right?’

tooru flinched before he flushed at the word ‘boyfriend’

then he nodded

‘as your boyfriend, you have to lean on me, tooru. i dont want you to hold it to yourself because i wanna be there for you and i want to go through everything with you because i,,,,,’

you stopped and hesitated, debating if you should say it or not

‘because i like you, idiot’

you confessed and swallowed thickly

oikawa met your eye and his eyes watered

‘im so angry! im so disappointed! but i know my team did their 110 percent! we’re just not strong enough! so its not their fault! but ushijima is such a freak and hes too strong and its not fair!’

he complained and he cried loudly

not once in the 3 years of knowing oikawa have you seen him cry and you were so proud of him for being able to trust you enough to show him being vulnerable

you rushed forward held him close to your chest

‘for what it’s worth, you looked so incredibly hot and cute playing’

you whispered and pecked his neck

of course oikawa couldnt hold his surprise at the feeling of your lips on his neck so he squealed a little

you gigled and continued holding your boyfriend close, even if it was at some nasty alleyway

yall became official and ngl, they didnt see this coming

some nobody dating the grand king oikawa tooru?

what in the wattpad?

yall know that tiktok of like ‘guys you cant dm me anymore. i have a girlfriend now. what else? and i love her’

IF YALL DONT KNOW IM SORRY

but you totally made oikawa tell his fangirls that

YOU KNOW THE FUNNY THING?

when yall became official, you actually gained your own little fanclub

maybe its because you gained clout from your boyfriend but they started noticing you and wowza you were hot

before, it was you getting jealous over tooru but now, it was him getting possessive of you

hes such a brat that he sits on your lap before class and youre just all smirking and feeling all good bc your baby is so cute when hes jealous

YOU CANT DISAGREE THAT HE DOESNT RADIATE UKE ENERGY

but all oiks has to do is pull down your collar and expose your purple littered collarbones and they will know who you belong to

theres a reason why iwa-chan is now the kids babysitter

youre still kinda cold and distant to people but youre soft for your baby and you always hold him close when hes in sight and you just cant get enough of him

:’)

also!!

your sister loves dressing you up and oikawa has his sisters makeup and they both do your makeup and you guys have tea party with the boys and just the cutest domestic stuff

you still call him idiot though

but like affectionately yanno?

and over the years youve turned it down to dummy

and ngl tooru loves it when you call him that

what in the dumbification-

because he knows that equivalent to babe from you and he absolutely just loves you lmao

youre def the more quieter and calmer one in the relationship like you absolutely dont react much

while tooru is the overreactor and hes very animated with his facial expressions and stuff

like the one time

he was cooking some chicken pasta and you cheekily grabbed a piece of chicken and he made a dramatic gasp

‘*le gasp* oikawa m/n how dare steal a piece of chicken!’

you cackled before crossing your arms at the sight ofyour lover with his pursed lips and hands on his hips

‘excuse you. its more of you who’d take my last name’

it was so easy to make him flustered and tooru quickly turned around to tend back to the food but he was really just hiding his red face

‘b-baka. thats not going to happen’

‘not if i do it first’

you shrugged and smirked, wondering if he will fall for it

and as expected with oikawa tooru

‘yea okay sure’

‘i will!’

‘prove me wrong, m/n-chan~’

‘turn around right now’

oikawa rolled his eyes playfully before turning with a smile

‘what are you-*le gasp part 2*’

his hands covered his mouth at the sight of you there in front of him, kneeling on your knee tightly clutching a silver ring between your thumb and index finger

your heart was thrumming in your chest but you gulped and smiled

‘i win. now marry me, dummy’

oikawa screamed

a/n: sorry if this sucked booty :((( but i just really like the thought of uke oikawa and just him with a cute boyfriend for a change like please we all know oikawa is a bi king and thats on docosahexaenoic acid

123 notes · View notes

euaxel · 3 years

Text

heyyy, eonia. i’m reid, i’m twenty-three, still can’t read, and all i know about pjo is that it fucking rocks and the protag has the same learning disabilities that i do! also, i picked hypnos for this punk mainly to be mean to him and because in the hades game hypnos bullies me every time i die and i’m kiiiinda into it. hmu on discord one on one for the best plotting experience, but i’ll be around plenty to bug y’all in the gc too. you can read about bastard boy number one right here and under the cut we’ll get down to business.

⟨ ELLIOT FLETCHER. TRANS MALE. HE/HIM. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, AXEL EVERETT is actually a descendent of H Y P N O S. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-TWO year old VIDEO GAME DEVELOPMENT & COMBAT TACTICS MAJOR from BROOKLYN, USA has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite WITTY & SELF-DEPRICATING.

be advised, axel’s a pretty heavy character. i’m gonna keep it brief for the bio & need-to-knows, tag around the parts with bold applicable triggers so you can skip around as needed, and tag this post accordingly, but just let me know if i miss anything and i’ll fix it & be safe reading. godspeed and i apologize in advance for bringing you all my personal punching bag as my first muse.

the main triggers that are gonna come up are: parental abuse, alcoholism * major, mentions of bullying, drowning * major, religious trauma, and drug abuse with some harder drugs ( particularly, weed, pills and cocaine / nothing with needles. )

general stats.

— full name , axel harley everett. — nicknames/alias , axe, ax, wolverine jr, tyler durden jr, trouble, Who? - every professor he’s ever had. — house, hypnos and mad about it. — age, 22, as of today. also mad about it. — gender, trans male. — pronouns, he/him. — sexual orientation, bisexual with a somewhat heavy masc lean. — d.o.b, january 1st, 1999. ( generally unknown to anyone but maybe siblings, he will probably lie and say Nobody Knows... I Just Am unless he really fucks with you. ) — hometown,

phys.

— height, 5′0ft even. furious about it. — eyes, brown. — hair, brown. — face claim, elliot fletcher.

misc.

— zodiac, capricorn. — alignment, chaotic good. — character inspo, lip gallagher, steve rogers ( young ), ellie from tlou1, logan howlett, stiles stilinski ( if anyone says shit i will scream ), probably someone from euphoria but i’m too scared to watch that, peter parker ( andrew garfield ), shinsou hitoshi, finn mertens, marceline the vampire queen, dipper pines, this is all over the place but it’s there. — most played spotify songs, passion for publication by anarbor, sober haha jk unless by hospital bracelet, nobody by mitski, class of 2013 by mitski, king princess’ cover of monster from adventure time, way too much phoebe bridgers, in love or whatever by future teens, and the entire front bottoms discography but especially in sickness & in flames with the hard way & bus beat well at the top of his loop. — aesthetics, bloody knuckles, left open and tipped over prescription bottles, walking on the carpet with socks to get that tingly feeling, skateboarding inside, dozing off at the bar, tangled legs in messy sheets, ten pillows on a twin sized mattress, laying down in the shower, brian sella’s cracky singing voice.

bio.

— axel was born and raised in brooklyn, new york, and he was claimed at thirteen, on his thirteenth birthday, by hypnos. — the day he was claimed, axel ceased contact with his human mother and his step-dad, and he attended a camp for half-bloods that wasn’t far from home. he spent his adolescence there year round for safety from monsters at home and abroad, then moved on to eonia. — ( parental abuse tw, drowning tw begin ) i don’t want to be too graphic here so i’m going to plainly say that axel’s mother was a very, very bad person, and the man she married was absent at his best, physically abusive at worst. axel’s powers ( hypnokinesis, namely ) were potent and difficult to control at a young age, and as a deeply religious catholic woman, this scared his mother and influenced most of the animosity in their relationship. she was convinced that the defensive visions he created and his ability to put her to sleep ( an attempt to help her, on his end; insomnia plagued her and later, it would him, too ) were of demonic origin, and tried to drown him more than once; cleansing, she claimed. the worst instance was the day he was claimed, actually — new years day, 2012; his life was saved by hypnos, and that was the last he saw of her. ( parental abuse tw, drowning tw end. ) — that said, he’s a little ( very ) hydrophobic. poseidon kids do NOT fucking interact ( i’m kidding. kind of. he Will avoid a little though ) — anyway! moving on. all of this aside, axel did his best to put his past behind him, and he was actually super stoked to learn that his powers came from somewhere good and that there was places out there for kids like him; to learn he wasn’t any kind of monster. ( still working on believing that, though.. marcelines monster.mp3 right here ) — he’s less stoked when he starts having trouble falling asleep, and really, it feels like a more cruel twist than any other fate has thrown at him ( his upbringing was chock full of mean twists, so that’s saying something ); and really, it’s more like insomnia just full on kicks in, but he can put other people to sleep. great, right? whatever, though — combat classes are kickass and he’s surrounded by babes that think he’s hilarious so things could be totally, way worse. — ( bullying tw (brief) ) for the most part, axel was pretty well liked among his peers. he was bullied as a young kid (pre-claim), but he bit back and he bit back hard, and sure, some of that followed him into his teen years but he’s more confident by then; less fun to poke at, and absolutely unhinged when provoked, so people learn better of it. the only real lasting effect was one instant that hit him a little too deep in the inferiority, when he was seventeen — he fell in love with a girl, told her that, and found himself at the end of a very mean spirited prank. he shook it off like he did anything else, or at least — he told himself he did, even if the hurt hit him somewhere a little too deep rooted ( ie. being god’s most unlovable son would naturally land him here, right? ) love’s kinda stupid anyways, so what the hell, right? (bullying tw end.)

— ( alcoholism tw, drug use tw begin ) this is already obscenely long so i’m just going to keep it to the point here and say he began drinking when he was sneaking booze in to camp at fifteen, and it just never stopped there. he’s also a massive stoner, which is all well, harmless and good for the most part; he’s always grinning, half-lidded, and has a room full of smoke at any given time. it’s the pills that do him in, and he did them at first just so he could get some shut eye, and... well. after that, because he’s dependent on them. but he keeps this part under wraps for the most part; it doesn’t have to be anyone’s problem but his, and it’s not a problem until it is one. partying’s fun, so is coke; so is taking a few too many xan’s, mdma. ( alcoholism tw, drug use tw end )

FUN FACTS!!!

— i swear he is not as doom and gloom as he sounds from the bio, and yeah, writing that made me so sad i feel like we absolutely must hone in on the fun and cute things about him!?! — he loves dnd. he can talk about it for HOURS and if you let him, he absolutely will. — adventure time makes him cry. he’s a baby don’t let him fool you. — very into cryptids, aliens, horror stories, conspiracy theories, in love with ryan from watcher, wanna be shane medej. — he loves to draw! the one thing he loves about his power is what it’s done for his imagination, and sure, he mostly draws horror things, but it’s why he went into video game development. he wants to be a concept artist. — his double major is in combat tactics because he loves fighting. he thinks it’s so fun. he’s a little nuts, actually — i mean, get hit in the face and come up grinning. all he’s ever wanted is to run a fight club and be the shortest, baddest little bitch on the planet. — he tends to nod off in weird places because he doesn’t sleep enough at night, which is sad, but; he can seriously fall asleep anywhere. standing up, in a tree, you name it. — he’s a hobby musician! he loves singing and playing guitar. — he’s a huge flirt. — loves to scare people. he’s harmless, though. like, honestly. he might make you think you’re seeing a walking toadstool but he’ll probably apologize later. — he’s very much a singing in the shower type? — clothes thief. friends and significant others beware. — actually, just kind of a thief? but of weird, little things. like, just the left shoe. puts them in a little corner in his room that he has set up like an exhibit. “things you thought you lost lol” is written on the whiteboard on the wall above it. he likes collecting rocks too. he’s a little freak!! — he’s better at the memory retrieval part of his power than the rest. naturally, as this mostly applies for other people.

WANTED CONNECTIONS. im literally so tired of hearing myself talk...

friends/squad. self explanatory!!! he’s friendly, a class clown, and a loyal friend through and through; he’s also adaptable, and his demeanor is very relaxed and inviting. he’s probably gonna have 2-3 people that he’s really close with, and he’d do quite literally anything for them. seriously, don’t tempt him. a best friend. so this is kind of vague but. i’d really love for him to have one person that is just a tier above the rest? they’d know things about him that are like pulling teeth to find out ( aka, anything deeper than his most recommended podcasts and loudmouth opinions on non important things ), someone who will call him on his shit, and maybe take care of his stupid little self when he gets too fucked up, because they’d be someone he trusts enough to let them. enemies? he probably gets along with most people until given a reason not to? but he is a loud mouth and if one of his friends gets into drama, he will stick his nose where it doesn’t belong and he will throw hands, so it could happen.

harmless rivalries. maybe even steamy ones. he’s a little shit and he likes banter so, so, so much? if given the opportunity and if someone rubs him a certain type of way, he’s so not above being a menace, although never super maliciously. just, you know, annoying the shit out of them on purpose, for fun. he’s also not above blowing a few kisses their way.

current hookups. self explanatory too. he’s a little harlot. HFBHVFNJ. it’s gonna be kinda hard to go beyond sex with him because he’s very deep in his own insecurity but he does catch feelings, he’s just mad about it when he does. i’m mostly gonna go off chem for that though! an ex. could be on friendly terms? but, it should be noted that he could’ve ghosted someone too; or pulled from the relationship when things got serious and he couldn’t choke out that ‘i love you’, even if he felt it. worse, if he did choke it out, but they didn’t feel the same way. siblings. hypnos kids he is gonna be so protective of all of u... family is hard for axel, i’m ngl, but he really wants one is the tragedy of it all, i guess? so he just really wants to be a good brother. he thinks hypnos is kind of a dick for making him but he tries not to fault him for his existence. fuck u dad i dont wanna be alive feels a little unfair. HDBHFDSJ. anyways he’s a good brother even if he is absolutely so reckless and terrifying in regards to himself but his siblings. his siblings he will do anything for. ALSO!!! FOUND FAMILY!!!! it would be kinda nice if he bonded with someone a little older maybe, could be outside of the hypnos house even, someone he’s kind of a bratty-little-brother type with.... or bratty older brother that takes your things and makes you laugh, y’know.

PERSONALITY. just tacking this part of the app on at the end too to highlight parts that i think are important for understanding who he is, and just so it’s all in one place!

toothy grins, half-lidded eyes, and keepin’ them laughing is what it’s all about, baby. axel walks with more confidence in his posture than he’s earned ( or claimed, for that matter ), and it’s the backbone of what gets him by. he’s a glowing example of the fake it ‘til you make it mentality, and he knows what he wants, usually how to get it, and doesn’t mind letting you know that. there’s an ever present mischievous glint in his eyes that says more about what to expect from him than he does, and that’s still not much? he likes to have fun, and there isn’t a whole lot of regard for righteousness or responsibility on his end, but hey! it’s usually only ever at his own expense, so what’s the damage? he’s an absolute clown and he knows it.

axel loves people. he does — you might not guess that with how elusive he is, but it’s true. there’s nothing he likes more than a good conversation with someone interesting, or maybe not even then; if there’s a sparkle in you, he’ll see it. ( might even draw it, not that you’d ever know. ) he’s warm, loyal, compassionate, relaxed, and understanding; and none of that is at the cost of being passive, or lacking passion.

as long as the vibes are right, he’s happy to just be; though, he’s known to have a fuse for certain provocations, and will jump readily at chance to fight in someone else’s honor. also, it’s not unlike him to spar for the sake of sparring; but that’s all in good fun, no worries.

there’s no way to sugarcoat it — axel has an inferiority complex. where that stems from is something he’s more self-aware of than he’s willing to admit, but he doesn’t have the patience or the will to dissect it; much less do anything about it, and he’s as bull-headed as they come — especially regarding anything related to the psyche. how much this impacts his demeanor and relationships with others varies on the situation, but one constant is that he’s going to retreat before things get bad; even if ‘things are getting bad’ exists only as his own paranoia-born hypothetical.

things can’t go bad if you don’t let them, and he’s content to keep it that way; even if it means being stuck in the stasis of missed opportunities. it’s when he’s retreating into himself that he can get irritable, anxious, jumpy; secretive, defensive, even. he’s personable until he isn’t, essentially.

#euintro #ik elliots like 5'7 but i've never let this kid be taller than me and i will not start now #parental abuse tw #bullying tw #drug use tw #alcoholism tw #drowning tw #religious trauma tw #jesus christ whats wrong with me #anyway who wants him #Because I Dont #anyway im not fucking proofreading it JBFGHBFJFBDJSKNMA im so sorry this is a monster in length

13 notes · View notes

lokizalien · 5 years

Text

Avengers: A Bleeding Rose // #2

Warning: cussing, mentions of sexual activity's , cringey jokes.

"Holy shit this place is huge..."

Samantha and Natasha walked inside the entrance of the building. Samantha's eyes wandering around the building as she followed the agent. There wasn't anything to spectacular on this floor, just a bunch of workers and agents that were dressed formally. Bags and piles of papers stacked up in binders and briefcases that looked like it weighed much more than the actual person, being carried around.

The clear glass windows that made up nearly 80% of the building, was mesmerizing to her. She couldn't help but smile at her current situation. 1// she was able to skip work. 2// she gets to visit shield headquarters and 3//she's about to meet her childhood hero. What was there to hate!? All the excitement build up in her head all her true feelings about the group which honestly was great until the doors to an elevator opened. Two men where standing there staring at them. One was dark skinned. He was tall and had a pure black trench coat on. His eye piercing and stern as the other was hidden beneath an eye patch. His eye following her every move. The man standing next to him was the one and only Captain himself.

Natasha smirks as she started walking towards them. Samantha on the other hand loosing her pace. Her eyes was focused on the two men staring her up and down. Their eyes practically looking through her as if she was a ghost, which only made her heart hit the pit of her stomach.

"Romanoff" Said the black male, his eye on her for a second before trailing off to Samantha.

"Fury" Nat replied as she stood next to Steve. Her gaze now on small dark skinned Detective. Her smirk only grew bigger as Samantha got on the elevator, her nails nervously tapping on her forearm, looking down at her feet. Nat cocked an eyebrow at Samantha before whispering something into Steve's ear. His blue eyes was hooked on Samantha, the once stern look on his face turned to a bubbly smirk as he stood up straight looking back at Nat.

Samantha rolled her eyes at Natasha's whispering, and was thinking about confronting it before 'Fury' interrupted her thinking.

" I would assume you know why you're here, Detective Rose"

Samantha kept quiet but her glare landed on the man, biting the inside of my lip to keep herself from speaking out of line.

"You stole something from us and we would like it back, but you see the problem, Miss Rose, is that we can't find it. Not at your apartment, not at work, not at a friend's house, or a club, but for some reason every time we look up the radiation signal for that stone, we always find it in a place where it shouldn't be. With you." His eye narrowed, examining her body language. He could tell that she was nervous and scared, as she should be.

"Sir, I'm sorry but I can't give you that stone"She finally spoke, her voice stern and cold, but also soft and obviously intimidated. She holds her breath as she sees the man's body tense, his jaw clenched.

"And why is that?" Steve spoke up. His eyes staring coldly at her. She couldn't help but slightly jump in fear.

"It's because she absorbed the Gama radiation from it. " Nat answered before Samantha could even start to process his question.

"What?" Fury asked, looking at Nat in confusion, Steve giving her a conserned looking.

" I don't know, it's just what she told me" she shrugged carelessly playing with her nails.

The elevator door finally opened as Natasha walked out of it. "Follow me, Samantha" she says still not looking up from her nails as she began to walk down the hallway. Both men now staring at Samantha with a confused and concerned the look on their faces.

She chuckles nervously, an awkward smile on her face as she slowly backed out of the elevator. "Haha.." she inhales sharply. "Bye" she muttered, giving them a finger gun gesture before quickly jogging over to Nat.

"what now?" Steve's eyes were on the floor of the elevator. His hands on the handlebars, elbows pressed against the window. "You said that the radiation was increasing drastically. Now if this is really inside of her, I need to know what's going to happen. Is she going to be okay? Is it even safe for her to be roaming the Halls?"

"These are all questions that I'm not qualified to answer... Natasha took her to a place in the building where she's away from the public, while we notify Stark about the situation. She's in his hands from that point forward." Fury replied, his eye fixed on the conserned soldier. "Only time will tell what happens next."

"Nick, for all we know, We dont have time.-" Steve protested. He was about to go on and on about the situation before Nick handed him his phone. Automatically he shut his mouth, glaring at him before he took the phone. A list of information for Steve's next mission was pulled up, which was located in Sokovia. A small huff left the perk of his lips, his jaw twitched as he looked back at Nick.

"Like I already said. Questions I'm not qualified to answer" he smirked as the elevator opened once more. He gave the captain a soft pat on the shoulder before exiting the elevator.

It's been hours since Nat left Samantha in this room. She was told to stay in there until she was told otherwise, which to her it was a bunch of bullshit. A loud, impatient groan danced across her lips as she fell backwards onto the couch. Her legs dangling off the arm of it. Her mind dancing around the fact she met Captain America.

'I mean yeah, he wasn't too happy with me and he probably thinks I'm an idiot but... I FINALLY GOT TO MEET HIM!'

She giggled to herself. The ends of her lips curling at the thought. It didn't last for long though. Her smile disappeared as she heard someone fumbling with the door nob. She instantly sat up, kicking her feet off the couch as her eyes watched the door open.

A deep red blossomed on her face. Her heart nearly beating out of her chest as she looked up at the man who walks in the room and closes the door behind him. She tries her best to put on her best smile.

"Hi Captain.."

She chuckled nervously, the man looking down at her with the sweetest smile, making her heart flutter. He tugged up on his pants slightly as he took a seat, his eyes never leaving hers. Samantha silently shifted in her seat feeling rather uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry you have to go through all this ma'am-" he began, his voice calm and rather soothing.

"but you put yourself in this situation. You do realize that you will get arrested for this... Right?"

The thought never occurred to her. She tried to keep her cool but everytime that sentence replayed in her mind she'd slightly choke. Steve noticed this, quickly walking over to the mini fridge that sat across the room. He grabbed a bottle of water and tossed it to her. Without hesitation she opened the bottle and started to gulp it down.

What she didn't notice is that the entire time Steve was giving her a worried look. She was still a kid in his eyes and watching her freak out over the situation was unsettling even though he knows this is HER own fault.

She coughs when she finishes the bottle. Her eyes not leaving her feet as she struggled to come up with a reply.

" I-im sorry Captain, but.. can we talk about something else..."

"Fine..."

He sighed slightly annoyed. He gave her a questioning look, searching her forest green eyes for any sign of pure fear.

"please.."

Samantha shifts over, giving Steve more room to sit. An apologetic smile plastered on her face.

"So..-" she began the echo of her nervously tapping her foot filled the room, making Steve crack a smile.

"How are you liking the 2000's? I know it's a little odd to be in almost a whole new world.

Steve smile only grow bigger as you looked down at the floor then glanced up at her. His eyes beginning to scan the room just admiring how different everything has become since the 1940's.

"It's home ... But it'll take some getting used too"

She chuckles softly " Go figure, I bet you miss the good days, huh?"

"Well things aren't so bad-" He started, slowly making his way over to the couch. The ends of Samantha's lips curved upwards when she caught a glimpse of the amusement appearing on his face.

"The food's a lot better, the beds are a lot softer, and the internet...most useful technology known to mankind and I still can't figure out how to work a computer, but I've been trying my best to catch up on that"

"Sounds like you've been having fun" she teased, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

He partially nodded in agreement. "It's much better than being frozen in the Atlantic for 70 years, I'll tell you that much" he replied with a smile, sitting on the arm of the couch with his arms folded, looking down at Samantha.

Silence filled the room as the two just looked at each other. Samantha's mind what shuffling, trying to figure out a solution. "Samantha Rose. Since I didn't get to properly introduce myself." She smiled shyly, raising her hand for a hand shake.

"Steve Rogers" A smirk appearing on his lips, as he took the younger woman's hand. His firm grip sending chills down her spine.

"Wouldn't of guested" she laughed, now feeling comfortable enough to let her sarcasm get the best of her. Steve just rolls his eyes at that.

"So how long?" He asked, pointing to the shiny gold badge she has hooked to the waistline of her skirt. A small 'oh' danced across her lips as she unhooked it swiftly and handed it to him.

She shrugged "About 5 and a half years. A technician for 1"

He nods. "You must be a pro"

She chuckles at the statement. "I wouldn't say pro, I just have good inspiration" She smiled softly, looking at Steve.

"Not to ruin the moment but your ride is here"

They move their gaze to the door. Steve's head hung looking down as he laughed under his breath. "Is every conversation I have with a woman considered a 'moment' to you?"

The redhead smirks at his reaction, she leans on the door looking at the two. "It's progress" she replied with the click of her tongue.

"Yeah, progress I'm not purposely trying to make" He sighs. He glanced back over at Samantha and gave her a soft, reassuring smile. "That's your que"

"Right" She picked up her bookbag and placed it on one of her shoulders. Standing up, she placed her badge back on the waistline of her skirt, both of them watching her as she did so. "It was nice meeting you Captain" she stated, before heading to the door. Natasha was slowly walking into the room as Samantha walked out the door. She looked over at Steve once more and smiled.

"Stay safe"

He nods, returning the smile. "I'll keep it in mind." A small 'tch' left her pretty smile as she walked away to the elevator that already had an escort waiting for her.

Natasha nods in amusement as she walks over to Steve. "So... She's cute."

"Nat...-" Steve sighs once more, starting to fix the couch cushions. A small groan forming in his chest as he sees her wiggle her eyebrow at him

"Finish gathering up supplies for our next mission, then you find me a date."

"Hey, don't get mad at me for being supportive" That statement earned a glare from him. He knew what she was doing and honestly didn't find it funny at all.

She laughs at that " I'm multitasking" she smirked patting his shoulder. "You should consider it"

12 notes · View notes

verdantsymmetry · 5 years

Text

Zsigs

So, MIT has this IM system called Zephyr that I still unaccountably find useful. Clients generally let you display a signature with your message that might be some static bit of text or might be the result of a script if you’re more into that. I have a script that selects from a bunch of sayings, jokes, etc that I’ve collected over the years. And which I now want to inflict on you, Tumblr.

Please forgive the puns and don’t take these too seriously.

Unfortunately the universe doesn't agree with me. We'll see which one of us is still standing when this is over. *Reality is what you can get away with.

The truth is whatever you can't escape.

I used to think that the brain was the most wonderful organ in my body. Then I remembered who was telling me this.

I feel more like I do now than I did a while ago.

I intend to live forever. So far, so good.

Don't ascribe to malice what can be adequately explained by stupidity.

You can't know that this sentence is true.

Imagine there were no hypothetical situations.

The views expressed here do not necessarily represent the unanimous views of all parts of my mind.

Don't immanentize the eschaton!

Because anti-induction has never worked in the past I can be sure it will now.

Knowledge is power. Power corrupts. Study hard, be evil.

Put the romance back in necromancery.

Everyone generalizes from one example. Or at least I do.

You don't understand society until you can build one out of nothing but signals and incentives.

When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however unlikely, is probably an artifact of an incomplete hypothesis space.

I, for one, like roman numerals.

Debugging is like being a detective in a crime novel where you're also the murderer.

I don't have pet peeves. But I do feed a number of feral peeves that live in the neighborhood.

Napoleon Bonaparte was a master strategist who achieved immortality by living on in the form of delusional people all over the future

"Roses" is how / you start poems of this meter / but poems about poems / are more meta and neater.

I know not with what weapons World War 3 will be fought, but World War 4 will be fought with adorable cockroach-sized swords.

When did the Japanese start eating eggs? A long たまご!

Usually the explanation for why a thing exists is not the reason it started existing, but rather the reason it continues existing.

The adjective "indescribable" is, by definition, never correct.

Failure isn't an option. It's mandatory.

Start every day like you woke up surrounded by a circle of wizards who perform a summoning spell once a century

Omniscience makes reasoning about counterfactuals harder.

Any machine is a smoke machine when you use it wrong enough.

I believe that inside every tool is a hammer

I said raise the barn, not raze it!

Remember with increasing sample size, your averages become more reliable - The Ns justify the means.

New EA cause area: Banning everything else Thomas Midgley invented, just to be safe.

Your eyes don't see, you do.

My favorite three bean soup is vanilla soy latte.

You will forget that you ever read this zsig.

Gaze not into the abyss, lest you become recognized as an abyss domain expert, and they expect you keep gazing into the damn thing.

Made in China? Silly plate, you are made of China.

Give a man a fire and hell be warm for a day. teach a man to fire and youll get your liver pecked out by an eagle every day for the rest of eternity

When trying to understand entropy, remember that sitting still with your eyes closed will make you ever more lost - not within the universe, but between universes.

Nothing in life is as important as you think it is, while you are thinking about it.

Blessed are those who can gaze into a drop of water and see all the worlds and be like who cares that's still zero information content.

The First Rule of Robot Fight Club is you DO NOT TALK about Robot Fight Club, or, through inaction, allow Robot Fight Club to be talked about.

Correlation correlates with causation because causation causes correlations.

Absence of evidence is evidence of absence.

Market exchange is a pathetically inadequate substitute for love, but it scales better.

Computer science is like omnipotence without omniscience.

Your existence is not impossible. But it's also not very likely.

Finally, a study that backs up everything I've always said about confirmation bias!

Nobody is smart enough to be wrong all the time.

Everything happens for a reason. The reason is a chaotic intersection of chance and the laws of physics.

Essentially, all models are wrong, but some are useful.

We think much less than we think we think.

If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Then quit. No use being a damn fool about it.

Because ten billion years' time is so fragile, so ephemeral, it arouses such a bittersweet, almost heartbreaking fondness.

Language will evolve irregardless of barriers.

A library of all possible books contains less information than a single volume.

Is it crazy how saying sentences backwards creates backwards sentences saying how crazy it is?

Do unto others 20% better than you would expect them to do unto you, to correct for subjective error.

Though through rough boughs

I'm just sayin', everyone that confuses correlation with causation eventually ends up dead.

I believe that this nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, until we've landed on the moon, of preventing this decade from ending.

If you die in a documentary, you die in real life.

My intuition pump won't turn off and now my basement is full of scary ideas.

One Weird Trick to hijack the inner voice of hundreds of minds by posting this message

Most supposed conspiracy "theorists" don't come up with their own theories; they are conspiracy *enthusiasts* at best.

Have you tried throwing money at the problem? Yes? Well have you tried throwing it harder, using deadlier forms of currency?

Have you tried reducing the problem to a harder one which no one will expect you to solve?

Have you tried raising the temperature until you have enough thermal energy to overcome the problem’s energy barrier?

Keep your identities small, so you can fit more of them in your head.

You are a useful abstraction.

I Went To The Platonic Realm And All I Got Was THE Lousy T-Shirt.

A society where ubiquitous 3D printing makes the delivery of physical objects obsolete. A post-post society.

Appeals to Purity Intuitions Considered Toxic

Yog Sothoth is the golden key, the accursed result of the NSA's demands. Do not call up what you can't put down, cried the opsec researchers.

Known thy enemy and know theyself. You can combine these tasks and so double efficiency using the obvious method.

Consciousness is the weakest form of telepathy, where you're limited to reading your own mind.

A good pun is its own reword.

A new drug prevents the brain from speculating. You'll never guess what happens when you take it.

Philosophy is mainly useful in inoculating you against other philosophy. Else you'll be vulnerable to the first coherent philosophy you hear.

#humor #puns

1 note · View note

afoolsingenuity · 7 years

Text

Bite Sized Books // Where I Declare My Love For Mariana Zapata’s Books

I have been intending to write a review for Mariana Zapata’s books for a good long while. A month, even! I read them when I was on holiday and adored them in every way. At least, the first ones I read (the two I read when I got home weren’t quite as good but they showed great potential). I knew I wanted to tell you guys how brilliant they were but I really couldn’t find the words to say why other than to flail and say read them! I still knew I had to feature them, though. There are just some books you have to talk about even when you’re utterly inelegant about them. I mean, even Zapata’s worst books were enjoyable they just weren’t up to scratch to my favourites from her.

The Ones I Adored

The Wall of Winnipeg and Me – Mariana Zapata

Published: 28th February 2016 Source: Bought Genre: Sports romance, Contemporary, Adult My Rating:

Vanessa Mazur knows she's doing the right thing. She shouldn't feel bad for quitting. Being an assistant/housekeeper/fairy godmother to the top defensive end in the National Football Organization was always supposed to be temporary. She has plans and none of them include washing extra-large underwear longer than necessary.

But when Aiden Graves shows up at her door wanting her to come back, she's beyond shocked.

For two years, the man known as The Wall of Winnipeg couldn't find it in him to tell her good morning or congratulate her on her birthday. Now? He's asking for the unthinkable. What do you say to the man who is used to getting everything he wants?

This was the first book from Zapata I heard about. I am a girl who loves romance, and more specifically sports romance, and I also adore fake relationships so when I heard there was a book which included all three of them you can bet I was interested in reading. Only problem? It was over 600 pages long. The average romance is like 300 pages, you can imagine I was intimidated by a book which was twice that. It’s why I didn’t bother buying until I knew I had all the time in the world to read it, when I was on holiday. I almost didn’t pick it up even then, luckily I avoided that mistake and found my first of my favourites from Zapata.

I adored Vanessa, she puts up with no crap and she didn’t swoon for Aiden just because he was some hot shot NFL player. She didn’t care. He had been a means to an end so could pursue her career. She handed in her notice and didn’t look back and I didn’t blame her as Aiden was annoying as hell, he was an island, and he didn’t stand up for her. She would have stayed focused an independent from Aiden if he hadn’t offered something she wanted, money to truly give her the independence she craved, she just had to marry him to help him stay in the US. Easy, right?

Well, it’s safe to say from there I fell in love as Aiden stayed being gruff and focused, but a little less of an island under Vanessa's influence. And I adored it. I didn’t even notice the length of the book because I was so invested in these characters. I swooned and sighed and grinned like and idiot and fell head over heels. I truly did, this was the best. Don’t be put off by the length but strap yourself in for a slow… very slow ride. This is the ultimate of slowburn. The romance moves at a glacial pace and it might frustrate the hell out of some. I was on the edge of my seat and loved every minute, though.

Dear Aaron – Mariana Zapata

Published: 10th June 2017

Source: Bought

Genre: Romance, Contemporary, Adult/New Adult

My Rating:

Ruby Santos knew exactly what she was getting herself into when she signed up to write a soldier overseas.

The guidelines were simple: one letter or email a week for the length of his or her deployment. Care packages were optional.

Been there, done that. She thought she knew what to expect.

What she didn’t count on was falling in love with the guy.

Then onto the second of Zapata’s books which I read. I hadn’t got this one on my radar until Nick reviewed it (funny how Nick often is the person who puts romance on my radar). I wasn’t quite as eager to get a hold of this one because Nick had said the pacing was a bit off with some of the romance and that it could have been shorter, the concern I had when it came to buying Wall of Winnipeg. I went ahead, though, because I loved the idea of a couple writing to one another and falling love. The concept slayed me and the reality was even better than expected.

Ruby and Aaron were so cute together. Ruby was brilliant and I loved that she lived with her parents still but was pursuing her career because I live at home too and it isn’t great but it’s a good means to and end. And Aaron was great building this friendship with Ruby as one of his few contacts back home so he could cope throughout his deployment.

I adored it and was totally sucked in from the start. I was gone for Aaron and adored Ruby from the very beginning. She was way geekier than me but I totally got her and her fandom ways and her quirkiness and how utterly why she is. I just connected with her straight away as I saw a lot of myself in her.

I loved how the format of the book demonstrated the progression in the relationship. We begin with emails being sent with them being a bit awkward as hey got to know one another and slowly connect. It then changes to IMs as the pair get closer and talk more often and it develops as they grow closer. It totally worked and I loved it.

This was such a cute book and I was expecting it to be angstier because Aaron was in the army but it actually was way more cute and fun and I loved it for that. It was nothing like I thought and everything which I wanted in a romance. I had a silly grin going on while I was reading and I'm not ashamed of that fact.

Kulti – Mariana Zapata

Published: 20th March 2015 Source: Bought Genre: Romance, Contemporary, Sports Romance, Adult My Rating:

“Trust me, I’ve wanted to punch you in the face a time or five.”

When the man you worshipped as a kid becomes your coach, it’s supposed to be the greatest thing in the world. Keywords: supposed to.

It didn’t take a week for twenty-seven-year-old Sal Casillas to wonder what she’d seen in the international soccer icon—why she’d ever had his posters on her wall, or ever envisioned marrying him and having super-playing soccer babies.

Sal had long ago gotten over the worst non-break-up in the history of imaginary relationships with a man that hadn’t known she’d existed. So she isn’t prepared for this version of Reiner Kulti who shows up to her team’s season: a quiet, reclusive, shadow of the explosive, passionate man he’d once been.

Nothing could have prepared her for the man she got to know.

Or the murderous urges he brought out in her.

“Sal, please don’t make me visit you in jail. Orange isn’t your color.”

This was going to be the longest season of her life.

And then the third, and in some ways my favourite. I actually had to figure out how to connect my Kindle to my phones internet to read this one while I was away because I brought it halfway through reading Dear Aaron because I knew I needed to read more Zapata and especially this one. It was another that had come onto my radar when I heard of Wall of Winnipeg because sports romance! I was put off by the fact it was a football (soccer) romance because I am not a huge fan of football, I see it enough on TV at home, do I really need to read a romance about it too. Also, the last sports romance which involved football I tried to read was Scoring Wilder and I hated it so I thought I might not like Kulti I was convinced by the fact Zapata wrote it and I am so glad I was.

I think this one clicked for me because I adored the fact it was a romance with an age gap. I was full on in love with Kulti too. Also, it was so similar to Pitch and my favourite ship in that (Mike/Ginny 4eva) that I was fully in love from the beginning.

This one was an enemies to lover romance and it was spot on. Even better, Sal wasn’t the usual girl in her early twenties falling in love but instead 27 and had several years playing on the football team who was focused on her career. She was determined to be the best she could be (with a few exceptions) and she was determined to do her best. And Reiner Kulti was a grumpy guy who had passed the peak in his career and who really didn’t want to be coaching when he was a world famous player. And he had been a dick to Sal’s brother and was basically horrible to anyone he spoke to and so Sal wasn’t willing to put up with crap from him at all.

I loved the dynamic between the two whenever they spoke and how throughout the book they grew closer. First, they became friends before any hope of romance happened. And then there was Sal’s family! I adored her parents and would have happily had them feature far more in the book. I would return to read more about Kulti and Sal’s life given half a chance.

This was the best kind of sports romance for me. It was about a female athlete for once and was absolutely brilliant. It even had a really good age difference romance for me to love. I will read all the books!

The Ones I Liked Less

Under Locke – Mariana Zapata

Published: 19th January 2014

Source: Bought

Genre: Contemporary, Romance

My Rating:

He was my boss, my brother’s friend, a Widower, an ex-felon, and a man I’d seen casually with a handful of women. But he was everything that gripped me, both the good and the bad. Worst case scenario if things turned awkward between us, I could go somewhere else. I’d gotten over epic heartbreak before, one more wouldn’t kill me.

After moving to Austin following six months of unemployment back home, Iris Taylor knows she should be glad to have landed a job so quickly... even if the business is owned by a member of the same motorcycle club her estranged father used to belong to. Except Dex Locke might just be the biggest jerk she’s ever met. He’s rude, impatient and doesn’t know how to tell time.

And the last thing they ever expected was each other.

But it was either the strip club or the tattoo shop.

… she should have chosen the strip club.

It just makes me sad when you read a book which doesn't work for you from an author you love. I mean, I still haven’t read all of Zapata’s books so there is still a chance there are more from her I don’t like but it made me sad as this was the first book by her I didn’t adore. It was partially a me thing for me to dislike it. I wasn’t a fan of the whole motorcycle gang aspect of the book. I may have enjoyed Sons of Anarchy but it’s a bit iffy when it comes to gang things. Also, when I began reading it was the last day on my holiday and my brain wasn’t totally focused on the book. That lack of focus when it came to reading this meant I didn’t become fully absorbed either.

It had all the usual marks of a Mariana Zapata book but it just missed the mark for me. I think it was the fact it was a biker gang book and Dex was just not what I wanted. He came across as a dick (hence the nickname in the book) and whilst he revealed a softer side his dickish tendencies were too much for me.

It was a good read for some, I’m sure, but not for me. It makes me sad but there always has to be one, right?

Lingus – Mariana Zapata

Published: 7th August 2015 Source: Bought Genre: Contemporary, Romance My Rating:

Most people would describe Katherine Berger as a responsible girl with a big heart, a loyal friend who takes care of those close to her, and the possessor of a wicked sense of humor. There was something about her that most people didn't know. "My name is Kat Berger, and I love porn."

When twenty-five-year-old Kat is dragged to a porn convention by her best friend, she's both embarrassed and nervous. The last thing she ever expected was to meet someone who makes her laugh like no other. This is a story about acceptance and friendship, and a love born out of the most unexpected of places.

This was a really good friends to lovers story and I enjoyed it. I didn't fall head over heels for it like Zapata's later books but you can see the essence of the great stories she writes and I did enjoy it. This only ended up on the bad list because I wasn’t head over heels and totally absorbed like I expected to be.

The book starts at a porn convention so it was safe to say I was a little hesitant going in to see whether I'd like it. Turns out it was hilarious and I enjoyed it. Sure, occasionally Kat and her friends seemed a bit OTT, almost like caricatures of who they really were because they were too much. But I did enjoy it and I loved Kat's close-knit group of friends and how they were all so close.

I thought some stuff went too fast in this book and some things too slow but the pacing wasn't a major issue. It was the first time I felt like a Zapata book was a touch too long though. I actually noticed a bit of a drag in the story towards the end.

As a whole it's a funny romance that I enjoyed as a weekend read. It may not have ticked all my boxes but it did tick a lot of them.

Now I have declared my undying love for Mariana Zapata I feel a strong need to go read those last two books by her. Who was the last author whose entire backlist you went and bought after one book? And any awesome romance authors you feel the need to recommend?

from Blogger http://ift.tt/2xeOKFt via IFTTT

#a fool's ingenuity #books

3 notes · View notes

lunarfae714 · 7 years

Text

after the vernal equinox, 2015

intimacy

in the unseen,

microbes flee

off the tongue

dance on the dirty rim of the teamug

bliss

on the mountain bald: the numbing wind of soltitude

guilt

in the bloodmarks on the tight, smoky skin of my lover.

***

let it go--

tybee mushroom tea

the soft songs of wind

playing in the pilsner bottles,

the mildew edges of

sharpened teeth

washed up on a

jetted shorline

catnaps on crooked grey

dark matter comes

in clouds

of grease.

painted scenes from

manhattan museums

& the gulls laugh in ritual

-the squall of sunsets

broken images super-

imposed

into sunflower seeds.

***

jaco

the woman of the sea

reigns the high tide

her power unseen,

& women drink free.

my intuition is stronger here,

dreams dark & strange, now i

watch the fan,

how the spinning taco

moves the water bubbles

on my skin.

i hear voices in the fan,

through the bamboo,

spirits dance through shadows

in sober hallucinations

my magic is fueled-

i know how people feel, where the

lost objects go.

the abuelita ghost

disgraces our dirty hostel,

why she hangs around above the cast irons

to shame how the land has moved.

the land of iguanas

and stray dogs,

the street horses

for show.

dazed by the dark

crows above,

the birds yell here

woo hoo hoo hoo,

a deep waltz of the hermit.

crabs run free to

challenge me

to a claw-off.

the birdsong &

roosters in early

sunrise & sets.

who now sows the

seeds of this

town of cement?

***

the open heart chakra

unreal

"there is so much Light coming through your eyes"

Light confused, real, or passing

Love talk dissolved into frustration fleeing

"i will take care of you"

in the bathroom at the devil's hour

nude gymnastics on the handicap bars

or the black leather couch

outside in the rain,

where the cameras don't record.

on the beach at the crowded club with the

beds for "lounging," empty pools,

loud music & people changing faces

where's does Light go when you throw your bottle on the street?

you taught me to read the ocean

when to dip on the board, so the currents

wont

sweep me away.

***

forced hustles

when i ride my bicycle out of the tourist town

on to the highway

the welcome goes dissipates.

mango falls like lullabies

over the mountaintops,

the afternoon storm comes every day.

the zebra chicken pace roads

of tall pines lining like curtains

to hide broken huts,

roofs with holes, clustered together,

the old women and men sit

in folding chairs & scorn us

(to stare with a darkness)

my wide eyes and white skin,

undesired swords

papayas for cash

from their backyards

in their grass

walking bills

families against intruders

but the dark pretty boys

beneath the banana patch

throw hellos and whistles into the air

friendlier than the rest

its hard to follow the surfers advice,

shrug it off like layers of clothes

but to be a woman in a sexist country

to hear one more "ay mama"

to try and block out horns

from each car that passes by,

thumbs up, glazed stares,

but i often still take the free drinks

bring peace to

strip the patriarchy at

the end of the night when the lines

between prostitutes and strong women

turn grey with each tequila shot

in fake plastic.

and you are naked in the rain at the end of the night

jumping off the roof of the hotel next to you

shaky shingles under my wet feet

into the swimming pool.

women here are like the horses on the beach

slapped and rode without say,

"when it swells, ride it" says the beach bar,

without question.

the club called space, "because in space,

no one can hear you scream."

i will be strong

when the police motocyclist

stops me to ask if i have a boyfriend,

i got asked today

why my eyes show such confidence

he didnt understand,

pura vida.

***

nunca me dejes con el sabor de miel en mis labios

the roosters warn us of morning

& the grey stray gnaws at my toes

***

embracing the mother archetype

in the hostel home--

herd in the streetpeople,

feed 'em & paint

the cycle of Sky on the walls

because no one should spend a moment

without seeing mother moon.

***

My taste is Aging. With time, I desire someone for the whole run or nothing at all. & the platonic moments in-between....glimpses of Love, some, through the gaps of teeth of sweet teachers, Love is kindness, and I don't hesitate to tell them everything on my mind. But it's not about me. My taste is Aging. As seasons pass, quicker now, i want the patterns on my clothes to fade away-- the prints on t-shirts to melt, words to unwrite themselves, so I can be only color. Earthly hues, crotcheted shades that reflect patterns of time...mud, grass, & mojado. Celery, mirrors of colors i see most. i want to become dirt, for my fingertips to play the piano of the earth. i want to disappear into the bench so they stop looking. or to the bright colored buildings, fade into them, brilliant stains of Spanish colonization, streets once threaded by pirates, filibusters.... my skin is browning, French bread in the oven. caramel flavor in the throat every time I look up, come to the caldeza calle later, let me take you on a trip, familiar faces now they know my name...let me melt into the park bench. now a smiling man asks to share the bench, not an invitation for 20 questions, i thought, as i watch the sweat balls fall off his thick brow and slicked back hair...so much gel satures the combed jetblack hairs...he asks if im a Christian missionary, why i am not writing in Spanish can't you see I'm writing on a stream of consciousness and I cannot understand when you speak as fast as my mind runs why can't I just glide into town and eat scraps like the coyote dogs and men that circle us. the men stand in a pack in all directions, staggered, still. ready to attack. the stranger talks about nica peligroso & I wonder. sweat pounds down my face, no clouds crowd the 3pm sun, and I am wearing white, Duncan's shirt because it reminds me of him. He is my fuel when I am down, I know he will always listen & lift me up. Even if the words aren't always right, the Love, the strongest I have known. Yet my sweat swims on my chest--I love to be naked but I can't here. I return to my job at the bar, a date with my notebook. Interrupted. pass the young kids who sell cigarettes & candy in their handwovenbaskets. I sure wish they weren't so cute. I listen to the church bells ring 5pm, catholic country, mass and processions and women who do Hail Marys in silence as they pass by churches into the streetmarkets where even toy dinosaurs are laid out on the cement. Old town. I will erase my mind so it can be filled with beauty--sights, openness, to experience as I prepare to travel again, alone, in love with the land, in love with the new. Who isn't? I love it here too, I just keep getting myself tangled in neon cobwebs. Who painted my cobwebs? The beach is dirty here & the some serpents love to bite. why are my dreams so vivid and I can feel everything? I have never felt so present, the subconscious world of the bodysoul, reigns in Granada. The volcano watches over everyone. Waiting. On clear days, i can track the crevices with raised eyes, the dips of destruction. Back to the men, there's no darkness in their eyes, only glimpses of sincerity, friendliness in their throats. i want them to notice the dark circles, crescent moons that wax under my eyes- I am tired--the scorching sun, the dorm life of people forever coming & going, the sore back and calves from wandering juices out the bubbles from my blood. I can bounce back. being of water, I am one with the the waves. I will be still soon~I can ignite locals & travelering folk with music, dancing, fast-paced mojitos, sass & stories. I can love everyone when i remember we are one. Traveling tests the pesos mi corazon can lift, what am I doing here, how can I keep the golden light with strangers when such a huge part of me is carved away & replaced by a nervous heart and dizzy stomach. I am learning. It comes in waves & will pass with time. Oscar, the cattle farmer, makes me laugh now as the dogs fight in the street, with cheesy smiles and goofy dances. He tells me I have to learn the history of dance, it's charming. If the moon is right, we will partner as he continues to tell me the rich culture of poor nicas from a sharp tongue. A barb wired bar does the appearing act with the strangers of the eve. i am learning lessons on nourishment from strangers, friends are the richest. I no longer crave what i used to, short affairs, instead Receive Love through language , through movement or starry or sun-eyed guitarists i learn ambitions & spirit through reflections and grow from similar drives in the health way.

Waiting is rich, mature, perfect. I wait for the Love.

Stimulation so easy, so much culture & more flavor to feed the eyes. And Walking, wandering, is meditation, a way to see and cycle mantras in my head, to a clear mind--

***

there is a time of night

when only salsa music plays from the bar

as the nacho macho men

with the necklaces of saints

sing along to ballads of love lost

in the land of lotus flowers

ritual earth dance

smoke & stones

hummingbirds,

sun and no sickness,

hangovers island cured

woken by wild birds of paradise

i wear dirt & facepaint,

smell of smoke & incense,

do not hunger

because food is all around us,

in the sunrays,

the moonbeams.

the land is kind,

inviting to connect our barefeet

to our bare selves,

our purpose, our blessings.

Isla teaches us to be kind,

in the hours of the scorching sun

we carry each other

when the gravel is too hot for the other.

my heart understands-

loses the worry, jealousy, darkness

out of my true essence.

spirit dances down my hairs

wavy & free,

dressing my naked skin

the dirt carresses my feet

clay & the smoothest sand

nothing bites my skin

& the volcanoes are gods,

watching over the island.

we eat vegetarian hot dogs on the beach

(bananas in bread)

over translator books

to aid our conversation.

we watch the rain fall

on the watchtower

we paint cosmic triangles:

material, spiritual, divine

and hold on.

***

warm rain,

and strands of lightning dance

freckles are the stars of the body

telepathy & laughter.

senses awakened, cleansed, reborn

native islandfolk offer rides on their

motorcycles, stuffed with four people

or a place at their home to sleep,

next to giant pigs

gallos replace Granada's churchbells.

crickets, the serenaders of the night.

peter pan, i saw on the ferry

wanted to cradle in his lap

with the large lips

of a cancer man.

old soul

with marypoppins backpack

& digeridoo.

and the sailor.

my time by the water

in the hammock hut

by pirates & drugas.

when i was wondering what to do,

peter told me,

"todo esta volando"

he sucked out the venom.

we’d fry yucca cakes

over a little fire at sunset

local farm workers

passed around a coco loco,

my skin was like job's in the devil's curse

i took it as a sign to leave.

we slept on the sunmat on the porch,

& woke each other up to speak of our dreams

after an evening

of moonlit walks around sleeping bovine

& barbed wire,

stopping to hear the tongue

of mother moon.

on a secret path

through neighbor's farm

staring in awe,

the boys and i.

we then watched the sun set

behind Concepcion volcano

trix-yogurt colors

on a paddleboard with simone

our silhouttes divine

activitating our third eye

sunset on the pineal gland.

nude, smoking the pipe

from a mermaid,

and i thought i’d changed my mind.

the simplicity of island life,

fallen fruit & fires,

houses from palm,

folks drank rum like water,

fished for dinner,

lived with the land,

making love at nighttime.

***

after the island

the angry boss

who doesnt share his fancy meals

speaks only french in a spanish country

has never laughed.

he looks at me, wide-eyed

like im an alien in his house,

terrified & confused

when i go in for a hug.

he spit at me

when i walked away

"an immature child

destined to go nowhere"

i can't say i didn't cry

but i sure have grown a bit

and been around

***

puerto viejo

maid life with the mad frenchman

can't he look around

at the abandoned beaches, clear as sky

with the occasional wanderers,

constant rainbow butterflies

& rich smells of the land, the jungle.

i bicycle on the one sacred road

between the jungle & sea,

a blood vessel highway,

we are beating cells

the strong heart of the land

string nebula clouds circle

between the daily storms

the beach is like a painting-

exposing the meaning of seafoam green

the brushstroke overhead is a jaded blue--

i run my toes along the coral

and the brilliant eyes-turquoise

of a slovenian man meet mine

to ask the time

he holds my hand as i try his slackline.

if only the madman could open up to see

the spiders, sacred mothers of the forest

palm-sized, red-striped, abundant

with webs like vecinas

they are the grandmothers, the ones

with the power in the latin way.

but he couldn't--

so i ran away from the french jungle regime.

that day, the sun painted a golden halo

on each passing body,

the sand & sea shone like glitter--

cerulean & pumpernickle

i ran faster than my sweatfall,

fueld by french elitism & the manic madman.

& the hearts, doors, jobs, opened as answers,

enlightened spacetalk from starseeds,

touch, words, and galatic downloads

purififying

maca starships & hummus hugs,

raising vibrations,

a new environment

for a deadly disease.

followed by wild dog

i out hold my thumb

and trust in the yoniverse.

***

We hide our room key in Ulysses

& fall asleep to the stream.

This truely is the rich coast--

i watch prices ascend in the tourist blackholes

of the sea. you have to pay to leave

this country, and pay hundreds

for an import.

lets turn folks to dollar signs

stand at the cascada,

dive past the reef to see clearly

the creatures live more freely than us.

***

the only sunny day in a month,

everyone at the playa

& i

cluelessly mind the lodge

watch the freckle bugs do the pac man

along the bamboo bench,

the curtains' slow return

after the windspell,

the slightest turn from the

four diseased & sleeping dogs

& the still spider

above the bookshelf.

i listen to sitar instrumentals,

peck through Wuthering Heights,

pick a stray banana off the bunch,

as the howler monkeys' deathly cry grows & grows,

and wonder if i am moving at all.

***

the longer i wait,

the longer Plath resonates--

[i think i made you up inside my head]

***

my life is funny--

each night i have sleepovers

with a sweet, random man:

construction worker, volunteer,

survivor, who's made it.

enamored with fishing,

his desert home,

indian warfare,

accidents.

we drink from dirty glasses

(in the night, the cucurachas

throw a party--i see them scrambling

in the morning

with the eggs)

i think life focused on investments,

retirement plans, the great divide

is a scary story

as he pokes at me for being so lost,

but now-

the sun climbed out after days of strong tears--

tears that took electric sockets so we could remember

to live with the land

tears that knocked a tree

on the house of Tao

so his books could be cleansed.

the hummingbirds' salsa

& my dirty, lost self

will take each moment with gratitude,

each bite on my body, doubt on my mind

and just be--

as i wander the garden of Tao.

***

my spanish is best with the children,

they are on my level,

delany, the nude 3-year old

i met in the ocean

we sat in shallow water

& played with the crabs,

their elusivity, our entertainment.

alejandra, the maid's daughter,

my closest nina,

we share a wildness of emotions,

and snacks.

***

throwing rocks at plastic bottles

the wasteland is wasting away,

soon, we will too.

***

bocas del toro,

dirty, spanish verision of venice.

can be oddly romantic,

fellow travelers look to fall in love,

on the candlelit pier

pure families outside the port town.

drunk taxi boat drivers,

dirty turquoise water,

& translucent waters of starfish beach

too beautiful to be touched, free

unlike the lobster in mesh bags,

the unreal clouds a spliff in the sky,

wild colors at sunset

over a wild jungle,

waves

in theit flavor-colored homes,

people are happier by the sea.

on bastimentios,

a neighbor isle,

i am one of five non-natives,

hike for hours in the jungle,

thick mud paths,

found petroglyphs,

to the beach with the piercing redfrogs.

beach hunger

of stray dogs

& children with machetes,

who want a pack of cheap ham.

i play poker,

cook for a family

in an unlocked pastel cabin

over the sea.

i escaped to the cloud forest in the mountains

where the deerflies roam freely,

& the men here stay forever, living on student loans.

where Boquete means blow job,

the nights are cool & calm

& filled with whiskey & warm stews.

Where the bulidings are painted yellow,

on the steep hill, trails

to the waterfalls, treasure hunts

for miles & miles.

“no kids, no debt, no drama”

the giggly panamanian

honeybear caretaker

starts the massage train

& we are off.

***

lost on the outskirts

there is nothing more satisfying & sensual

than being alone with the river.

men have been disappointing me,

with false friendships & mal intent,

i have to be alone--

open my legs only to the rapids

washing machine, pleasure in

singing the mating song

of prayer.

***

(bad) cravings from the worm

the hungover italian boy

working construction in the city

keeps me company at breakfast.

i taught him to put bananas in his pb&j

and it may have changed his life.

Panama City

vibrantly loud town--

the parties & streetpeople last all night,

and in the mornings, (Spanish) church bells blast

for all to hear (repent)--

angelic foreign voices praise gods

this cloudy Sunday

to wake me from dreaming

of smoking fruit loop blunts,

& having my child art sold for thousands

in the galleries.

families of blackbirds circle in the sky

on beat with the songs,

to attack the sinners,

or embody ascendance?

0 notes