#sorry for taking so long to reply to this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skalfy · 2 days

Text

Misunderstandings

alexia putellas x reader, ~4.1k words, part 1/probably 2

angst in this part, but planning for a happy ending.

Hi! for people waiting for part 3 of the Misa story I promise I am working on it, just been busy and got caught with some other ideas, including this one. Hope y'all enjoy this in the meantime!

Also please feel free to send me requests, I am not very quick, but would love to take on some ideas. I don't really have a complete list of players I will/won't write for, but if you send me one for someone I won't, I'll reply and let you know so you can send it elsewhere :)

You had no idea how you had gotten off on the complete wrong foot with Alexia Putellas.

It had only been a month since you joined Barcelona on a three year deal, fulfilling a lifelong dream while launching you far out of your comfort zone. You were shy, and coming from Tigres, and before that, college football in America, you hardly even had a former opponent to befriend. All of your new teammates were strangers, and in some cases, even strangers you’d looked up to for years. All of your teammates except one, that was.

In a strange twist of fate, you had met Ingrid Engen almost a decade prior, when the two of you were both 17. You had an aunt--not a real one, but one of your father’s old friends from college-- who had moved to Norway a few years before you were born. Your family had gone to visit Aunt Anna every couple summers, spending a week or two seeing the fjords and the beautiful traveling the countryside. The summer you were 17, Aunt Anna had invited you to stay for a whole month. It was meant to be a sort of final hurrah before you started college in the fall, and your parents agreed without much debate.

Your second night at Aunt Anna’s house in Melhus, you had headed to the football pitch down the street with the intent to complete your assigned summer workout, and instead you had met Ingrid. That evening on the pitch was the start of a whirlwind month-long friendship as the two of you bonded over your love of the sport, then grew to find you had much more in common beyond that. One night as you sat on your bed in Anna’s house, Ingrid had told you that she was gay, opening up about the feelings she had for one of her U-19 national teammates. She held you in a tight hug as, for the first time, you said out loud that you thought you might be gay too.

You had said a tearful goodbye at the end of the month, but stayed in touch with Ingrid somewhat throughout the years, exchanging infrequent texts congratulating each other on football achievements or to check in on life. You had been pleased to hear that things worked out with her national team crush, Marie, though sorry to hear it ended a few years later. She had cheered you on in turn when you had your first serious relationship with a girl at college. When you first arrived at Barça, the two of you hadn’t seen each other since that month in Melhus, even with your respective places on your senior national teams, but you still considered her a trusted friend.

During the your first month with the Blaugrana, you had gravitated immediately toward Ingrid. You were delighted to fall back into the easy friendship you had shared so many years ago, and it helped that you were nervous to attempt to befriend your other teammates. You worried that you were monopolizing Ingrid’s time, but she easily assuaged your concerns, telling you that she was happy to spend the time together and that she would be there to support you as you took opening up to the team at your own pace. She offered you an open invite to have dinner with her and Mapi whenever you were ready to branch out.

Though you mostly kept to yourself and Ingrid, the rest of the team seemed friendly and open for the most part. Pina and Patri didn’t seem to mind your shyness and often chattered happily to you, managing to include you as a third member of their two person conversations in the changing room. Your spanish wasn’t perfect, but three years playing in Mexico had brought you up to a passable level.

Keira and Lucy, often accompanied by Ona, would also frequently bring you into conversations. You got the sense that it was as much for Keira’s sake as yours, she seemed more than pleased to have another native english speaker to chat to. You appreciated their dynamics, full of biting wit and teasing that reminded you of time with your national teammates.

The one person who seemed to hold nothing but animosity towards you was the one who you had been most excited to play with. You racked your brain, but couldn’t place any reason why you so often seemed to be at the receiving end of Alexia’s ire, but it was unmistakeable. At best, she ignored you-- the few mornings you had arrived early enough for the two of you to be the only ones in the changing room, she remained stubbornly silent, hardly acknowledging you at all besides a flat look as you entered. At worst, she singled you out in training, barking critique after critique. You had a relatively thick skin, but the captain’s intense disapproval wore on you as it never seemed to relent.

The obvious explanations that you could think of for her behavior were out. You were a forward, used to playing out and out striker or tucked under as a false 9, but you hadn’t played midfield since a few times in a pinch in college, so even setting aside her unmatched abilities, she couldn’t possibly think you were threatening her place. You had hardly ever played against her, coming off the bench late in a game once against Spain, and playing most of a friendly with Tigres. You had certainly never put in a risky tackle against her, you didn’t think you had even made any impact on her. Certainly nothing she might hold a grudge for-- you hadn’t, say, nabbed a winning goal.

As far as you could tell, it seemed like it was something you had done since joining Barça, because she hadn’t seemed so frosty on your first meeting. The captain had been quiet but polite as she welcomed you to the team, even returning the shy smile you had given her when you were introduced, but by the end of the first week it became clear that you had drawn her ire.

You had asked Ingrid for her opinion, and, while she agreed that Alexia did seem to be especially critical of you, she couldn’t come up with an explanation. After thinking through it, she optimistically suggested that it could be a misguided attempt to help you adjust to the Barcelona playstyle. At the skeptical wince you gave her in response, she offered to ask Mapi to weigh in. You thanked her, but declined. Alexia’s best friend’s opinion would likely be your best chance to understand, but you were wary of putting either Ingrid or her girlfriend in an awkward position.

A few days after that conversation with Ingrid, a particularly bad day of practice with Alexia all over your every move had you feeling desperate. You had stuck it out to the end of the session, but raced away as soon as you could, eyes hot with unshed tears and face red with embarrassment and exertion. You passed through the changing room only long enough to kick off your boots and grab your keys and phone. Jana was inside and changed already, on a slightly shortened training plan as she returned from injury, and she called out in concern as she saw you dart for the exit.

“¿Estás bien, Y/N? ¿Qué pasó?” You shook your head as the younger player stepped toward you, not sure whether you were answering no to the first question or trying to deny anything was wrong. Either way, Jana took matters into her own hands, grabbing you gently by the elbow and guiding you to face her. “Let me drive you home, vale?” you choked back a sob and let the defender walk you towards her car.

You told Jana which apartment building you were in and she didn’t bother to plug it into the GPS, navigating the short drive easily. She had turned on some music and you were grateful that she let it play quietly without asking you any more questions. When you reached your building, she turned the car off and climbed out, circling around to meet you at the passenger side door, clearly intent on seeing you all the way in. You let her walk you through your apartment door, sinking onto one of your kitchen chairs once you were in. The defender stood at the edge of the kitchen, looking a little uncertain.

“¿Quieres que llame a alguien? Call someone?” she asked.

“Voy a llamar a Jenni. Gracias por todo. Puedes quedarte si quieres.” you replied, managing a genuine smile at the young defender. She smiled back, pulling out the chair nearest you to sit.

Jenni had been one of your closest friends at Tigres, and she was eagerly checking in on your move to Barcelona every day, but you had held back about the challenges you were having with Alexia. You were afraid to gossip about the captain, especially with Jenni, and you weren’t entirely sure what kind of reaction to expect. But after the day you had, you craved Jenni’s support and guidance too much to keep holding back.

The phone only rang twice before Jenni picked up, greeting you with a cheery “¡hola, cariño!” you tried to answer her in return, but you were caught off guard by the wave of tears that surged back at the sound of her voice. All you managed was an urgent sniffle as you fought to hold the tears at bay.

“¿Cari? ¿Qué pasa?” Jenni’s voice, now concerned, crackled through your phone’s speakers again. After a moment, you felt Jana’s hand slide onto your knee comfortingly. You turned to her and saw that she had reached her other hand out, palm up. You handed the phone to her and watched as she immediately brought it to her ear.

“Hola, Jenni. Es Jana.” she greeted her former teammate before launching into a stream of spanish too quick for you to try to follow. You zoned out to the sound of Jana’s voice, focusing on deep breaths to unclench the tight knot of tears high in your throat.

You had managed to relax yourself considerably by the time Jana brought your attention back with a light squeeze to your knee where her hand still rested. You looked up to see her holding the phone between the two of you, an expectant look on her face.

“Jenni asked if you are ready to tell what’s wrong.” You nodded and took a deep breath.

“Alexia hates me. I don’t know what I did, but she hates me and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“How do you know, what is she doing? Cari, Alexia is shy and competetivo. Maybe she doesn’t know she is hurting you.”

“No, Jen.” you felt a tear roll down your cheek. “She knows. If it’s just the two us she will ignore me, she can’t even look at me. When we are with the team she tells me everything I do is wrong, my touch, my passes, my shots. I know I am not as good as everyone else here, but I’m trying and none of it is enough for her. I can see how she is patient and kind with the young ones, so I know it is about me.”

“Es verdad, I haven’t been in the practices, but the others have been worried about it. I didn’t know it was so bad, but Ale has been muy dura.” Jana chimed in, and you were a little surprised to hear her mention the team was concerned.

“I thought I wanted to play here, but I can’t do this for three years. I just want to be back at Tigres.” you admitted.

“Lo siento, Y/n. Lo siento mucho. I wish I was there to hug you.” you could tell she meant it by the waver in her voice, and it made you miss her even more fiercely.

You talked through everything you could think of, all your interactions with Alexia, every idea you had eliminated for what went wrong. Jenni and Jana alternated between outrage and murmured words of comfort, but mostly just listened as you vented everything you had been holding in for weeks. By the end, you actually felt better. Whether it was the release of finally letting everything go, or the relief of hearing two people who knew Alexia agree that something wasn’t right, a weight was definitely lifted from your chest.

“So what should I do?” You finally asked Jenni. “How can I fix whatever this is?”

“Oh, nena, you shouldn’t fix this, it’s Alexia who needs to. Quandó ella escuche lo que tengo--”

“Jenni, no porfa! You can’t talk to her about this.” You loved Jenni, hot head and all, but you couldn’t let her go off on Alexia about this. “Thank you, I know you would do that for me, but I need to do this. I don’t want her to think-- I can’t ruin—”

“Vale, I understand, cari. I won’t say anything, prometo.” Jenni saved you from struggling to explain further. In the pause that followed, Jana spoke suddenly from next to you.

“I think you need to talk to Ale. O sea, if you want to understand what is in her head. Maybe Mapi knows, but,” she stopped with a shrug, and Jenni finished for her,

“Only Ale knows what Ale is thinking. Jana is right.” You nodded, even though Jenni couldn’t see you. She sighed over the phone, then continued. “It might be easier if you are gentle. Even if she doesn’t deserve it.”

“Gracias, Jenni.” You were suddenly very tired. “Te amo mucho. I wish I was back with you.”

“Yo también, nena. Te amo mucho. I am here if you need me.”

“I know. Good night.”

“Good night.” You hung up the phone and placed it on the table.

Jana stood from the chair next to you and held a hand out to you. When you took it, she pulled you gently to your feet, then wrapped you in a hug. You immediately softened into the embrace, grateful for the comfort. She held you close for a long moment, then released you into a light hold.

“I know you have Ingrid, but I’m here for you too, Y/n. We haven’t had much time to get to know each other, but I’m glad you are at Barça and I want to be your friend.” The earnest look in her eyes as she spoke nearly had your own tearing up again. You tugged her back into a hug, squeezing her fiercely before you let go.

“Gracias, Jana. I want to be your friend too. Thank you.” You could feel a smile break across your face, and she grinned in return. “I should let you go home before it is too late. Are you okay to drive?”

“Yes, gracias. It is a short drive, we are almost neighbors. You can visit me soon and I will show you!”

You walked Jana back down to her car, exchanging numbers before you said your goodbyes. Despite everything, you felt a glow of hope for your future at Barcelona. At least you had a new friend and some kind of plan.

You were halfway through your pre-practice routine the following morning when your phone chimed with a message. It was Jana.

Jana: ¡Hola! Do you need a ride this morning?

Jana: Because I made you leave your car

Jana: Not sorry for that 😋🚙

You had completely forgotten about your car, so you were grateful for both the reminder and the offer.

You: Yes, thank you! I can walk to you if that is easier.

Jana: Do not worry, I will pick you up. 20 minutes?

You: Perfect

True to her word, Jana picked you up outside 20 minutes later. The drive was much more lighthearted than the previous night. You asked about Jana’s english, curious about why it was so good when she had spent her whole career in Spain. She started to explain that it was part of the curriculum at La Masia, but then cracked a smile and confessed that it was mostly because she was dating Jill and it was much easier than learning Dutch.

You had been curious about the rumors around the two, and seeing the way Jana lit up made you glad to hear they were true. You said as much to the defender, which led to her telling the story of how they met during the rest of the drive. The sweet story left you both in a good mood as you pulled up to the training center.

You climbed out of the car and grabbed your bag, laughing with Jana as she came up next to you and bumped into your shoulder as you started to walk together. For the first time in a while, you didn’t feel dread at the thought of walking into training, and you weren’t desperately searching for any sight of Ingrid. Jana seemed to be noticing the same thing.

“You will have to let me take you home more often if it puts you in this good of a mood!” She said, wrapping one arm around your shoulders.

You were about to respond when another voice beat you to it.

“Jana. Y/N.”

You froze, looking up to see Alexia approaching. Jana squeezed your shoulder where her hand rested. The captain had an unreadable expression on her face, eyes darting from you to Jana, then back to you.

“Hola, Capitana.” You said, lowering your gaze as her eyes met yours.

“Can I talk to you?” It was clear that the question was directed at you. When you didn’t immediately respond, she spoke again, voice softening almost imperceptibly. “Jana, vé sin nosotros. Iremos pronto.”

Jana caught your eye and you nodded slightly. You appreciated her willingness to look out for you, but you didn’t want to get her in trouble, not to mention you wanted to speak to Alexia anyway. The defender gave you a final squeeze to your arm before walking past Alexia toward the training center.

The two of you stood in silence. For a moment, your mind raced to guess what she had stopped you to say, but you pushed the worry down. With the way your relationship was going, it hardly seemed worth predicting what her latest criticism would be. You stared over Alexia’s shoulder, waiting.

“Jana has a girlfriend.” It was maybe the last thing you expected the midfielder to say, and you were caught completely off guard.

“What? I—I know.” You sputtered out. Jana’s last comment jumped into your mind, and when Alexia didn’t say anything else, you felt the need to continue and clarify. “What Jana said… She didn’t mean what it sounded like. She gave me a ride home last night and then this morning.”

“Bueno.” Alexia finally said, quieter than before.

“Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?” You asked, voice flat.

“Ah...” she hesitated. “No.”

The blonde turned and walked away as you watched. The good mood you had only a few minutes earlier was gone, leaving behind a sort of hollow feeling. Jana had been the one to drive you, the one with her arm around your shoulders, and the one to make a silly joke about taking you home, but still, Alexia assumed the worst of you and you only. Suddenly, you felt like an idiot for thinking you could talk anything out with the captain. A surge of hopelessness washed over you as you imagined her scrutinizing every interaction you had with your teammates in addition to your skills on the pitch, and you felt sick. You walked to where you left your car last night, pulling out your phone to text Jonatan.

You: Lo siento, estoy enferma y no puedo ir a practicar.

Once at home, you buried yourself under the covers on your bed. You still felt awful from the interaction with Alexia, but you were overwhelmed by a wave of other emotions-- guilt for missing practice, anger at yourself for letting a personal issue get in the way of your career, and a deep fear that things were not going to get better.

Your phone was vibrating in the other room, but you ignored it, certain it wasn’t anyone you wanted to talk to right now. Ingrid was at the practice you just left, and it was far too early for Jenni or your family to be awake in their timezones.

As you lay bundled in your bed, the adrenaline from your high emotions faded, and you found yourself suddenly fighting heavy eyelids. Slowly, you faded into sleep.

You awoke to a loud pounding on your apartment door. Disoriented, you dragged yourself out of bed, padding out into the living room as the noise continued. You flipped the deadbolt and yanked the door open, coming suddenly face to face with your insistent visitor.

“Alexia?”

The blonde shouldered her way past you without a word, marching into your living room and looking wildly around. You closed the door and locked it before turning back to see Alexia peering into your bedroom. You snapped.

“Alexia! What the hell are you doing?”

“Looking for Ingrid!” She turned to snarl at you, eyes cold.

“What? Ingrid’s not here, what are you talking about?” You were genuinely confused, and Alexia barreling her way through your apartment wasn’t helping. You reached out and caught her by the elbow as she made to walk into your bedroom. “Stop, please! Can you just explain what’s going on?”

Alexia shook your hand off her arm, but stayed put.

“I’m not stupid. You show up here while Mapi is injured and try to steal her girlfriend. I see you every day at practice all over Ingrid. You don’t talk to anyone except her, you follow her around, you take her out for coffee, all while my best friend isn’t there to see. At first I thought you were just friendly, but it’s only with her.” Her chest heaved as she paused to take a breath. “Then I realized today you skipped practice and convinced Ingrid to join you and I knew.”

Your head was spinning and you were certain your jaw was nearly on the floor. You understood Alexia’s words, but struggled to comprehend what she was saying. As it finally clicked, a burst of laughter rose up in your chest. Alexia looked on, eyes narrowed, as you found yourself almost giggling.

“I’m, I’m sorry. It’s not funny!” You managed, pulling yourself together with a deep breath. “It’s just… you’ve been making me feel awful for weeks now because you think I’m trying to steal Ingrid from your friend? Did you even think to bring it up to Mapi herself?”

The blonde made no move to respond.

“I’ve been friends with Ingrid since we were 17. Mapi knows that. If we had any interest in each other we would have sorted it out long before now. You’re completely right that I’ve been following her around and sticking by her side, but you’re completely wrong about why. God, Alexia, I just came from halfway across the world to play for a team full of people I’ve looked up to for years. I miss my family and Jenni and the rest of my old teammates. A month ago, Ingrid was the only person I knew in this entire stupid country!”

You closed your eyes for a long moment, trying to calm your racing heart. Your body felt like you had just played 90 minutes of a championship final. When you eventually opened your eyes again, it was to the sight of Alexia still rooted to the same spot. She had hardly moved a muscle other than to drop her gaze to the floor, back and shoulders. rigid with tension. You left her in the bedroom doorway and walked over to sink into the same kitchen chair Jana had occupied last night.

“Y/n, I—” she started, but paused at the sound of the lock, then the knob turning on the door. It swung open.

“Y/n! Sorry to use your spare key, but you weren’t answering my texts! I would have come sooner, but I had a dentist’s appointment I had to leave practice for. Are you okay? Are you sick? Jana said you seemed fine until you talked to Alexia this morning, did she say something?”

“I’m okay.” Ingrid’s gaze caught you when you spoke, then rose to look past you as she responded.

“Good, I-- Alexia?”

“Alexia was just leaving.” You spoke before the blonde could. “Are you okay to drive home, Capitana?”

“Sí. Yes.” She answered quietly, finally moving away from your bedroom and towards the door to leave. Before she stepped out, she paused to turn your way. “Lo siento, Y/n. I will fix this.”

When the door shut behind her, you dropped your head into your arms on the table.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas

502 notes · View notes

luvfy0dor · 1 day

Text

Soft Touches 'Nd Stuff ♡⁠˖

Warnings; Suggestive, cursing in a/n, I still only write specifically for BSD, my friends suggested characters from other fandoms, so credit to them; @ilovechuuy4 and @yaeeko and others not on tumblr

Description; Sleepy morning affection ;3

Imagine laying in your bed with the sunrise visible through your window, dying the sky a pretty wash of pink, oranges and yellows all blended together. Your boyfriends arms are wrapped around your waist with his head burrowed in the crook of your neck and his chest rising and falling against your back. You mindlessly kept your eyes fixated on the rising sun while you waited for him to wake up, taking deep and steady breaths and basking in the peace and silence. Five minutes passed before you could feel his hand rub from your waist to your thigh and his breath on your neck, making you nearly shiver. "Mm.. goodmorning." He whispered, his voice scratchy from sleep. He momentarily rolled onto his back to stretch, kicking you while he stretched his legs and took on a starfish position. Once he felt physically refreshed, he curled right back up to you and kissed your cheek. "Goodmorning." You reply, reaching back to entangle your hand in his hair. "I had the funniest dream about you, last night.." he whispers with an audible grin, and his hands slide down your tummy to your abdomen. You let out a sigh, feeling his ticklish fingers against your skin. "Yeah? Was it really funny?" You ask, a little skeptical. He laughs under his breath and shakes his head. "Maybe not funny, but definitely fun." He leans forward to kiss along the back of your neck, his fingers hooking around the waist band of your pajama bottoms. "Can I show you what we did?" His voice sent more shivers down your spine, squirming in place and nodding. "Mhm.." you let his hands into your pants, feeling them start to touch you where others never had, and never would so long as he gets a say. His excitement was evident as you grinded your ass against his hips needily. "Perfect. When I'm done with you, you'll be glad I decided to tell you about it, sweetheart."

→ Dazai, Chuuya, Nikolai, Tachihara, I wrote this w/ Fyodor in mind but idrk, Belphie, Mello, Heizou, Kaeya, Tartaglia, Wriothsley, Alhaithem, Oikawa, Gojo, Jean, Gallagher, Blade, Boothill, Sampo, Aventurine, Argenti nd your favs!!

A/n; hey chat sorry for the disappearance!! I had to take the AP World History Exam today!! It wasn't terrible to be quite fair!!! (it wasn't a cold war leq like I desired) (what the fuck was that dbq) (I'm going to kill myself) (not seriously obviously)

246 notes · View notes

permanentswaps · 3 days

Text

Building Each Other Up Pt. 2

Read Pt. 1 here.

Mark's POV

"Fuckkk," I muttered, flexing and feeling up my body and arms. The sensation of Shane being expelled from me, while surprising, actually felt really good—almost like a mental-only orgasm.

Shane, now in my body, was still sitting on the floor, looking up at me with wide, confused eyes. I took a moment to take it all in, before finally looking down at him.

"Shane, you okay?" I asked. “Or should I call you Mark now?” I said with a smile.

He blinked a few times, shaking his head as if to clear it. "What the hell just happened?" he asked, his voice—my voice—definitely a bit angry.

"I don't know, man. This is new for me too. I guess... I guess I pushed you out. Are you alright?" I said.

"No! Dude, what the fuck, why wouldn’t you get out?"

I raised my hands defensively. "I'm sorry, Shane. I didn’t mean to stay that long. I was just having such a good time training, and I wanted to help you out."

His eyes narrowed, frustration evident in his tone. "Well, that fucking sucked to be trapped inside my head for that long.”

"I know, I know," I said, my voice earnest. "I'm really sorry. I got carried away. It won't happen again."

"Okay, do we have any more of the potion on hand? Is that all we need to swap back, you think?" Shane asked, a hint of urgency in his voice.

"Wait, wait, hold on," I said quickly. "You're out now. Why don't we just stay like this for a little bit? I'll keep training in your body, and you can actually enjoy the time off rather than just being locked in your head."

He looked at me, still clearly annoyed but weighing his options. To swap back, he knew he would need to jump into my body and go through that whole process again. And who knows if he’d be able to actually force me out of this sexy body if I didn’t want to leave?

Shane sighed, running a hand through his—my—hair. "Okay," he relented. "But just a few days. And you better not pull any more stunts."

I grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "Scout's honor. Just a few days, I promise. And I’ll keep pushing hard at the gym to make sure you're in the best shape possible for the competition."

Before he could change his mind, I left the gym and walked out to my car and quickly took a few selfies.

---

The next night, I invited Ali over. It had been over a week since we’d last met up, and I was excited to be able to fuck him without Shane being there—it felt more intimate.

I wasn’t entirely sure how Shane felt about the sex part of the arrangement. Usually, if I even hinted at the idea of hooking up with a guy, he’d retreat into his subconscious and not be a part of it. He didn’t have a problem with me doing it per se. I mean how could he, it was his idea first. But I just think he found the whole thing a bit weird to not be in control of. I kind of got off on that back in the day, but I respect that he doesn’t.

But now, this was going to be the third time I’d hooked up with Ali. Maybe Shane would have a problem with me hooking up with the same guy so consistently—he probably wouldn’t want to give Ali the wrong ideas about this body.

Well, the good thing at least is that I’ve only really been messaging Ali on Grindr so far. I had made a profile using Shane’s pics on my own phone so that I could keep the fun going even when I was out of it. I made sure to have a secret backlog of photos too. All that to say, there’s not a huge risk of Shane finding out.

When the doorbell rang, I opened the door to see Ali standing there, looking hotter than ever in his tank top, beads of sweat still glistening from his workout. I could tell he had come straight from the gym, and the sight of his toned muscles and confident stride sent a jolt of excitement through me.

"Hey," he greeted me with a warm smile as he stepped inside. "You look great."

"Thanks, you too," I replied, my eyes drinking in the sight of his fit, athletic body.

We made our way to the living room, and as we settled in, Ali turned to me with a thoughtful expression. "Hey, I was thinking... how about we go on an actual date tonight instead of jumping straight into the hookup?"

I was taken aback. A date? I couldn’t remember the last time I went on a no-kidding date. Usually, the hot bottoms Ali’s age didn’t give my old body that kind of chance. I was more just a fun older fantasy for them—a quick, no-strings-attached daddy thrill.

"An actual date?" I repeated, a mix of surprise and curiosity in my voice.

I hesitated for a moment, processing the words before saying, "Sure, why not? I’d like that."

We went downtown to a movie theater and watched the latest superhero movie. The place was packed, but we managed to get good seats near the back. About halfway through the movie, during a particularly quiet moment, Ali reached over and gently took my hand in his. I glanced over at him, and he gave me a shy smile. Sure we had already fucked, but something about the innocence of the gesture made my heart race.

Later, as the movie progressed, I decided to make a move of my own. I shifted my hand from his and placed it on his muscular thigh, rubbing it up and down. My large hand practically swallowed his thigh, making it look small in comparison. Ali turned to me and grinned, biting his lip.

When the credits rolled and the lights came up, we both stood and stretched, exchanging amused looks as we mimicked the superhero poses we’d just seen on screen. Damn that tank top left nothing to be desired as he flexed his biceps for me.

As we walked back to his place, we joked the whole way there.

"Damn, you're really funny," I said, nudging him playfully with my elbow.

"Thanks," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "I try."

When we reached his apartment building, I turned to him, feeling a bit reluctant to end the night. "I had a really nice time tonight. I really want to do this again sometime."

"Oh yeah, me too," Ali said with a grin. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "But we aren't done yet." He opened the door and gestured for me to follow him up to his apartment.

I felt a thrill of excitement as I followed him inside. His apartment was cozy and stylish, and filled with cool travel memorabilia.

"So, what now?" I asked, leaning in closer.

Ali smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, we could start by picking up where we left off in the theater."

I didn’t need any more encouragement. I leaned in and kissed him, savoring the taste of his lips and the warmth of his body pressed against mine.

We have a seat on the couch, and Ali wastes no time straddling me. I grab both sides of his waist, guiding him as he grinds on me through our clothes. The friction is intoxicating, and I can feel my dick getting hard, pressing insistently against my jeans.

Ali's hands are all over my pecs, exploring the firm muscles beneath my shirt. "Take it off," he whispers, lifting the fabric and tossing it aside. "Flex for me."

I oblige quickly, flexing my chest muscles, watching his eyes light up with desire. He leans in, moving to the side to lick my hairy pits. He moans, "God, you smell so good."

I grab the back of his head, holding him there with a firm but reassuring grip. The sensation of his tongue against my skin is electric, sending shivers down my spine. Eventually, he lifts his head, his eyes glazed with lust. He stands up, strips down in front of me, and straddles my waist again. This time, he’s naked, and he starts rubbing his hard cock between my pecs.

The feel of his smooth skin and the sight of his cock sliding between my pecs almost makes me lose control right then and there. I’m already on the edge, and I haven’t even entered him yet.

Ali takes off my pants, his fingers grazing my thighs as he pulls them down. He positions himself over my cock, looking down at me with a mix of anticipation and desire.

"You ready, cutie?" I ask, my voice low and husky.

"Yes, sir," he replies, his voice trembling with excitement.

"Good boy," I tell him as he slowly starts to sit, taking in all of my manhood. The tightness and heat around my cock are almost too much to bear. He moves at his own pace, adjusting to my size, and I can see the concentration and pleasure on his face.

He finally settles down completely, and we both let out a groan of satisfaction. I grip his hips firmly, guiding his movements as he starts to ride me. The rhythm builds slowly at first, then faster, more urgent.

"Fuck, you feel so good," I murmur, my hands roaming over his body, caressing his skin.

Ali's hands are braced on my chest, his fingers digging into my muscles as he rides me. "You too, sir," he gasps, his head thrown back in pleasure. "Soooooo fucking good."

I thrust up into him, meeting his movements with powerful strokes. The intensity of the connection between us is overwhelming, and I know I won’t last much longer.

"Come for me," I urge him, my voice rough with need. "Come on, boy."

With a cry, Ali's body tenses, and he spills his load over my chest. The sight and feel of him coming is enough to push me over the edge, and I climax inside him, filling him with everything I’ve got.

We collapse together on the couch, breathing hard and spent. Ali rests his head on my chest, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close.

"That was amazing," he says after a moment, his voice soft and content.

"Yeah, it was," I agree, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You were incredible."

He looks up at me with a smile. "So, when can we do this again?"

"Anytime you want," I reply, feeling a rush of happiness. "Anytime you want."

To be continued…

223 notes · View notes

mssainz · 3 days

Text

PART 11 | AFTER FIVE YEARS

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader

Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.

Warning: some flashbacks, typos

“Okay Sevi, since you won. Who do you wanna sleep with tonight,” Ana asked Cael while fixing his monster trucks.

“I wanna sleep with Mama and Papa in one bed!” Cael said loudly, making everybody stunned. “Uhm baby..” you were about to speak.

“Is that okay Papa?” Cael asked, leaving Carlos not able to speak. He looked at you waiting for his response. “Of course Sevi. It's okay. You won the race, you get to choose,” Ana interjected, not wanting to break the deal with Cael. She then looks at you apologetically.

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

After giving Cael a bath you both proceeded to Carlos room and found him grabbing some pillow and was about to sleep on the couch. “Papa, what are you doing?” Cael asked him, confused. “Bud, Papa’s bed is quite small for us three so you and Mama can sleep here. I'll just be right on the couch,” Carlos alibi. Fortunately, Cael just nodded and didn't ask further questions.

His bed is obviously more than enough for the three of you but he wants to respect your boundaries and choose to sleep on the couch beside the bed. It felt a relief for you that Carlos is sensible enough and tries his best to make you both comfortable considering your situation.

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

In the middle of the night Carlos went to the kitchen to have a glass of water. There he saw you also sipping one. “Hey, why are you up?” Carlos asked you while pouring water into his glass. “Nothing, I just can't sleep,” You replied, pondering about what Blanca said to you.

“Is anything bothering you?” Carlos asked.

“Nothing much,” You replied.

Silence filled the conversion before Carlos breaks it. “YN, I want to ask you if we can give it a try again? I was hoping we could give us another chance,” Carlos said.

“If you're doing this to give Cael a complete family, don't even think about it Carlos. We can co-parent him. That would-” You rebuke before getting cut off.

“No, Y/N. I want to try again because I love you. I still do. I always do,” Carlos said, making you shut your lips.

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

“Mom, remember when I asked you why do you give Dad a second chance when he cheated on us? You said that because you love him. I was fuming mad at you to be honest. I thought you were crazy. Why do you have to go back to the man who hurt you and still love him as much as you do? I don't understand how you can say that not until Carlos cheated on me,” You said, beginning the conversation with your mother. She just stayed silent and waited for you to continue.

“I felt and understood everything you did. Yes, he hurt me once but to be honest, my love for him is more than the pain he caused me. I was ready to talk to him about it. One sorry and I was ready to forgive him. I was ready to give him another chance, to give us another chance. But he didn't give us one and he let go.” You continued.

“Honey, marriage is a journey. It's not always happy, romantic, and perfect. You know that. You are not perfect, he is not perfect. There will come a point where you'll make mistakes and disappoint each other. But you don't get to let go by just one mistake. You vowed to each other in front of the altar that you will commit whatever you have. It will only end if you choose to end it but as long as both of you love each other and are ready to work it out without letting go, it will sail as far as it goes,” your mother said. Her words never failed to give you clarity.

“Forgiveness is part of love. And I'm proud of you for being able to say that, my love. I'm proud of you for being able to understand that love can take over your pain. You've grown so much. And I know you still love him even until now. He has a special part in your life. But now that you two are over, would you still give him a chance if he asks for it? The chance you failed to give, and the chance he failed to grab,” she continued.

“I don't know, Mom. I am afraid of what the future holds. What if I'll give him a chance and he hurts me again? I will not be the only one affected. We have a child to think about. We have Cael now.”

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

“You don't have to answer me right now. I just want to let you know. And I want you to think about it before you even reject it. I'll wait," Carlos said.

I don't know Carlos. I don't know.

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

Lando's Message to Y/N

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

A/N: Here's a short but heavy (sort of) update for you guys. Carlos will start winning her back in the next few parts. I hope you like this one. Let me know your thoughts and if you wanna be added to the taglist. Thank y'all!

Ps. I might be inactive for few days or weeks (bear with me) because of my exams. But I'll update after I'm done with them.

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

TAGLIST:

@seasonswinter @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @celesteablack @timmychalametsstuff @viennakarma @i-love-ptv @evie-119 @somepeoplemaybe @amberpanda99 @gotthatname @karlossainz @khaylin27 @hc-dutch @avengers-assemble123456 @likedbygaslyy @xoscar03 @yukiotadako @barcelonaloverf1life @heyheyheyggg @sunny44 @mxdi0 @casperlikej @ironmaiden1313 @biitch-with-wifi @elia-the-bibliophile @nataliazzzz @bernelflo @lillunna @loloekie @jinimon-tr @glai1023-blog @not-nyasa @jolixtreesunn @changetyre @thatsusbitch @distancedss @miarabanana @voidsfics @jasminesacademia @glow-ish @ccallistata @carpediem241108 @thearchieves @kenzeyeballs @formula1simp @dessxoxsworld @hoeforsirius @norwayxo @eiaaasamantha

#f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula one x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz #f1 imagines #afterfiveyears

359 notes · View notes

genshingorlsrevengeance · 22 hours

Text

(Genshin Impact) Lisa, Eula, Yae, Shenhe, Chiori, Rosaria, Navia, and Furina's S/O feeling insecure

No one requested this, just writing away some blues tonight since I can't sleep. Totally unrelated, Just Give Me A Reason is a really good song.

Lisa immediately noticed something was bothering S/O.

The way their hands fidgeted on the teacup, staring out into space with their brows creased.

(Lisa) "...S/O?"

She gently calls out to them, snapping them out of whatever they were thinking about as they blinked a few times in surprise.

(Lisa) "Is something the matter?"

S/O gave a smile, one she immediately knew was forced.

(S/O) "Ah, it's nothing.-"

Their expression vanished the moment they saw how concerned Lisa was getting. There was no point in lying to her, was it?

S/O sighed as their fingers resumed rapidly tapping against the side of the cup, struggling to look her in the eyes.

(S/O) "This is going to sound really dumb but...I've just been thinking lately. You...still love me right?""

Lisa's back straightens at their words, where was this going?

S/O shook their head in a slight panic as they realized how their words came across.

(S/O) "I-It's nothing you've done, I promise! I just...I'm just worried that I'm not good enough. And that...you'll leave me because of it."

Lisa for her part remains silent for a moment. Not because she didn't know what to say, it was the opposite.

She was just relieved that it wasn't something more serious. But regardless, Lisa's arms reach over the table and hover over their hands before gently squeezing them.

(Lisa) "S/O, you've always been perfect for me. Whatever thoughts you have right now, don't listen to them."

Her smile and soothing voice makes S/O thankfully relax, with them meeting her gaze.

(Lisa) "Of course I still love you. I always will."

Lisa gets up from her seat to embrace S/O, letting them take a second to let their emotions out.

(S/O) "Lisa-"

(Lisa) "It's okay. Take as long as you need."

Eula is completely stunned when she hears S/O voice their thoughts.

Leave them?

Eula's mouth opens to immediately rebuke that, but quickly silences herself.

Truth be told, she felt that fear herself. The fact that S/O chose to love a Lawrence was a fact she still struggled to fully comprehend.

S/O was the first person to show her true love, and it felt like a knife to her heart to hear them think so little of themselves.

Instead, Eula's palm slowly caresses their cheek, letting their head rest into it.

And with a voice that grows softer by the second, she takes a deep breath and replies:

(Eula) "You mean more to me than anything I could ever say or do, S/O. Don't ever think that you're not good enough for me, because there's no one else I'd rather have."

(S/O) "...Thank you, Eula."

Once she sees that smile she loves, she gives one herself, not being able to help the teasing that follows up.

(Eula) "Remember, our feud is for the long-haul. Don't think that you can escape it that easily."

(Eula) "Hah, of course..."

Yae exhales deeply, processing S/O's words as her ears uncharacteristically twitch for a split second.

A soft chuckle from Yae is the sound S/O hears, making them turn their gaze from the ground to her.

(Yae) "Frankly, I thought when you began that sentence, it would be far worse."

For once, there's no sign of a mischievous smile or anything resembling that she'd tease them.

Yae gives a soft kiss to their forehead before taking their head to rest on her chest in an intimate hug.

(Yae) "I certainly hope you'd know by now, S/O. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't be here right now."

(S/O) "...S-Sorry, Miko.-"

She cuts them off by squeezing them tighter, her voice still as affectionate.

(Yae) "Don't apologize. Just remember that even if you doubt yourself, that I won't."

S/O pulls away after a small eternity, with Yae's expression going back to normal.

(Yae) "Good, that's the face I like to see."

Shenhe is terribly confused.

Why on earth would she ever leave without a good reason to?

(Shenhe) "You don't have to worry about something like that, S/O."

Abandon the person who made her feel human again, to feel love when she thought it was completely gone?

She would have to go completely insane to do that.

(S/O) "I-I know...It's not fair to you at all and-"

Shenhe instantly hugs them tightly, her face and voice not fluctuating all that much despite the strength that held S/O.

(Shenhe) "I am still struggling with emotions, but I know the feelings I have for you are real."

She's put at ease when S/O hugs her back. Thank the Archons she was saying her piece correctly.

(Shenhe) "I'm sorry that I have ever made you doubt me, but I love you, S/O."

(S/O) "I'm...I'm sorry I ever doubted you."

Neither of them move out of each other's arms for a long while.

Chiori sighs before she speaks up in her usual stoic tone. Though this time, there's a hint of kindness in it.

(Chiori) "Well, you're right about sounding dumb."

...Wait, shit that's not what she meant-

(Chiori) "I mean, you know I'm not the type to beat around the bush. If I wanted to leave, I'd have done it. I'm still here, aren't I?"

...Chiori shakes her head, mostly at herself. Even at times like these, she still can't help her choice of words.

This time, she moves to give them a tight hug, wiping away the tears forming at the edge of their eyes.

Chiori feels their heartbeat, giving her time to think of a way to not sound like a bitch.

(Chiori) "Too direct right now, aren't I? Then how about this, my feelings for you haven't changed, and they won't."

She hears S/O give a small chuckle, making her a little more at ease.

(S/O) "You have such a way with words, Chiori."

(Chiori) "Remember, you chose me...And I chose you, S/O."

Rosaria is silent, much of her actions mimicking S/O's.

She didn't look them in the eyes as she took her time, coming up with a response in her head.

Once she glanced at S/O and saw how uncomfortable they had become, she figured out what to say.

(S/O) "I shouldn't have brought this up, sorr-"

(Rosaria) "I'm glad you did, S/O...If anything, I feel like I haven't been there for you enough."

And she was proven right, seeing how they were tonight.

Rosaria hesitates before letting her hands hold S/O's, closing her eyes.

(Rosaria) "I know I'm not here a lot of nights to reassure you, and I know I'm really bad at this kinda stuff..."

Instead of saying anything, she gets up to kiss them, hoping that gets the message across.

(Rosaria) "...Don't worry about me leaving, that's not happening."

She makes it a mental note to come home sooner than usual now, if at the very least to wipe any tears S/O may have away.

Navia thoughtfully listens to S/O's troubles.

Her expression is completely serious, not saying anything until they finished their sentence.

Her first instinct is to wrap her arms around them and tell them that it's okay, but she knew what they really needed.

(Navia) "S/O. I don't think I could imagine my life with anyone else. And I never want anyone but you."

Seeing them relax got her to do so as well, Navia leaning in to kiss the top of their hand.

(Navia) "Don't ever be afraid to tell me these kinds of things. I'll make sure that you won't think that way about yourself ever again."

Now, she allows herself to give them a bone-crushing hug, making her giggle.

(S/O) "Thank you, Navia..."

(Navia) "It's what your wonderful girlfriend is here for, right?"

To brighten their mood, she puts her hat on them, before tilting it down and giving a cheeky smile.

Honestly? Furina completely understood the feeling, more than S/O could ever know.

She was so afraid that the people of Fontaine or that those closest to her would leave upon knowing what she was really like.

Centuries of feeling that she wasn't good enough for anyone ate away at her every night.

So to hear S/O voice the same words, thinking they weren't good enough for her?

The person who loved her despite everything? That broke her heart.

Furina's arms wrapped around their back before her head rested on their shoulders, hugging them tighter than she ever had before.

(Furina) "...Thank you for telling me, S/O."

She had no room to tell them that they shouldn't think this way about themselves. After all, she was still struggling with the very thing plaguing their mind.

(Furina) "I'll love you, no matter what you think. Because you'd do the same for me."

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #lisa minci x reader #eula x reader #yae miko x reader #shenhe x reader #rosaria genshin impact x reader #navia x reader #furina x reader #lisa minci #eula lawrence #yae miko #shenhe genshin impact #chiori genshin impact #rosaria genshin impact #navia genshin impact #furina genshin impact

187 notes · View notes

stuffeddeer · 1 day

Note

okay but..... pathetic yearning beast!stalkerzai... he's so quiet abt his obsession with u making up any excuse to have u around for subordinate purposes and when ur not around him he makes sure he can still keep tabs on u AHHH hes so sad and so smitten

"pathetic" i dont need to hear any more. im on board.

The continuous knocking on your apartment door leaves you anxious, quickly pulling on a comfy sweatshirt before answering the door. A breeze flies into the room, causing you to shiver, before you make eye contact with,

"Why aren't you at work today?" Dazai crosses his arms, an angry expression on his face. Though, the pout he wears causes it to be less intimidating than he'd normally be.

You glance into your apartment briefly, still feeling chilly while exposed to the outside air. "Um... I don't work?"

"You always work."

"Right. Which is why I have today off." Awkwardly, you itch your arm. "Am I… needed, Boss?"

Dazai sighs before walking into your apartment (with no invitation) and closes your own door behind him. "You're freezing."

"I'm slightly chilled," you shrug, brushing off the notion. Any other subordinate wouldn't dare correct the boss of the Port Mafia, but he'd always been more lenient with you - supposedly because you ‘aren’t as dumb’ as the rest. "But that's what the hoodie is for."

Without another word, Dazai plops down onto your couch, making a show of looking around your apartment. It’s tiny - the whole thing barely the size of his office at HQ — and Dazai wonders if you’d rather move in with him. For more space, of course. And he guesses you’d be saving on rent that way, too.

“How do you know where I live?” You ask curiously. Sure, it’s probably somewhere in your files, but your boss never seemed like the type to care.

Shrugging, he murmurs, “It’s my job.”

You want to make this visit quick, but kicking out your boss didn’t seem like a smart idea. “Are you thirsty? Would you like a cup of tea?..”

Yes, Dazai wants to try your tea. Just because you’re his subordinate, and he needs to make sure it’s up to par. What if he needs you to serve tea to some associates in the future? “I’d love one.”

Biting back a sigh, you fill your kettle before placing it on the stove, watching as your old gas stove flickers on. Silence hangs between you two - you had no intention of carrying the conversation when he just barged in uninvited.

Dazai seems to have a similar idea, sitting laxly on your couch and waiting for his tea. You pour one cup, uninterested in making one yourself, before placing it on the coffee table in front of him. “Sugar? Milk?”

“This is fine, thanks.” He takes a sip. Heavenly, he’s sure. Well, all tea tastes the same, but something about it coming from your hands… delectable. It’s as though he can taste the love you must pour into every cup.

Mouth shut, you take a seat on the chair across from him. “May I ask, sir, why are you here? Am I needed?” The question is posed once again as you hope for a quick resolution. Kicking out your boss is wrong, but hopefully he’ll read between the lines and show himself out - the same way he showed himself in.

A long sip of tea permeates the otherwise silent room. He’s doing this on purpose, you’re sure of it.

“…I was worried,” he mumbles into the mug, sound muffled and quiet.

“Sorry?”

“You should be,” he replies, uninterested in repeating himself. “I needed you today, only to find out you vanished into thin air.”

“I didn’t run, if that’s what you’re implying,” your eyes narrow. You would not be mistaken for a traitor.

“No, no,” he grins. You were at your most entertaining when you became combative. Dazai much prefers you like this rather than subservient. “You took today off.”

Correcting the boss of the Port Mafia was risky, but, “You gave me today off. A month ago, after that mission, you told me to pick a day to relax.”

That’s… true. It was a strenuous mission, and while Dazai made sure to keep you out of the fray, he thought a gift like that would make you feel touched and indebted to him. Annoyingly, he’d nearly forgotten, since Dazai had planned on reneging at the last minute to trap you with him. For your work ethtic, of course.

A pout graces his lips, unhappy at your disappearance from his side. And that he had no rebuttal to it. “Well, I still need you. I made dinner reservations for two accidentally, and the restaurant is rather strict. You need to come with. The meal will be comped, of course."

“Sir, I don’t— “

“Don’t want your job?” His eyes narrow, pout vanishing immediately. You had to go along with it. “I’m sure you don’t mean that, over something as silly as a nice dinner.”

“...Of course, sir.” You tug on the strings of your hoodie, wanting to emphasize that you aren't exactly dressed for something 'nice.' "What time am I expected?"

Dazai has to stop himself from swooning. How adorable. Well, it’s not you that’s adorable, of course. It’s the juxtaposition of such n oversized hoodie on you that he finds adorable, not you yourself. Definitely. “We can leave now, actually. Get changed, please. I wouldn't say there's a dress code, but it's not a 'hoodie' establishment."

Rather than lashing out at him for the snide comment, you choose to bite your tongue and head into your bedroom.

Exhausted was too light a word to describe how you felt. Donned in a 'nice' outfit that was rather uncomfortable, you stood outside in the cold air and harsh breeze as Dazai suggested to the host to let him in. This bastard didn't have reservations for one, much less two.

After the manager is called over and recognizes Dazai, you're quickly ushered in beside him. Dazai pulls out a seat at a secluded table in the back, gesturing for you to sit. "Come."

Without a second thought, you sit in the very seat he'd pulled out, stifling a yawn as he pushes you in. You’re Dazai's best employee - he must keep you close at all times. Which is why he takes advantage of your position as his subordinate to orders you waste your day off in a fancy restaurant across from him. If you want time off of work, you’ll have to spend it with him - just so he can keep an eye on you, of course.

180 notes · View notes

ofstarsandvibranium · 1 day

Text

Precious Truths: Part 2

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.

Warning: physical assault - reader gets slaped on the face

Series Masterlist

Your gaze reveals the precious truths

The beauty that you see within

The bravery that I once never possessed

Your love is strength

Your love is pure

Your love is everything

-Arthur Talbot

You set your quill back into the ink jar and lean back in your chair, letting the ink dry. It's well into the night. Your father and aunt now sound asleep in their respective bedrooms. You find that late nights like these are the best times to write. It's when the world is quiet and you can indulge in your guilty pleasure of writing poetry. You're sure that if your father were to ever find out about this, he'd cast you out.

So your secret remains. Some parts of you felt like you should at least tell Benedict, for he's your closest, and dearest friend. However, you thought best not to. If the ton were to find out, it would be the end of you and you could never be one to drag Benedict down with you.

You can never do that to the man you love.

____________________________

You're in the sitting room watching as stands at Benedict at his easel, Colin and Greggory play chess, and Daphne coos over Auggie. Benedict works on his still life as you sit close by.

He frowns, taking a step back from his painting, "This is wrong. It's-Something's missing."

You lean closer to get a glance at his work, "Benedict, it looks beautiful."

"Are you sure?" he asks with an unsure look on his face.

You stand up and take a better look at the canvas, "Don't you artists always say beauty is in the eye of the beholder?" you look at Benedict with a smirk and then back at the canvas, "What you may find as unattractive, Benedict, someone else might find alluring and lovely."

You pat his arm and then plop yourself back into the chair you previously occupied. You go back to your reading completely unaware that Benedict is looking at you with absolute love in his eyes.

He hears someone clear their throat and he looks away to see Anthony staring at him expectantly, "I'm sorry, brother. Did you say something?"

"We're all going for a promenade. I believe we've all been inside for long enough."

You stand up, "I shall take my leave then, Bridgertons."

"Or you can join us?" Benedict immediately asks with hopeful grin.

You softly shake your head, "I don't want to intrude."

"Nonsense," Kate says as she enters the room, "We're always happy to have you, Y/N," she joins her husband's side.

"Well, I can't reject you, Viscountess Bridgerton," you give Kate a smile and Benedict is confused, "So you have no problem rejecting me?"

You laugh, "I'm only jesting, Benedict. I'd love to accompany you and your family for a promenade."

"Wonderful, let's get to it then," Anthony says, trying to gather his siblings together.

_________________________

You're following Benedict's younger siblings whilst said man was walking beside you. You're walking in silence, but it isn't awkward. Silence in Benedict's presence is never awkward, but rather comforting.

"I've realized something, Y/N."

"Yes?"

Benedict keeps his eyes on you as you two continue to follow his younger siblings, "You've always been very supportive of my artistic prospects, but I don't believe I've given the same curtesy to you and your poetic writings. I recall you enjoyed writing them when we were younger."

It warms your heart knowing that Benedict remembers of the times you'd write whilst he'd paint or draw. You let out long and deep sigh. Looking ahead, you reply, "Yes, well, I've given up those dreams, I'm afraid. You know how my father is about my indulgence with poetry. I have to be very careful. Even reading it and reciting it to the ton is risky. Luckily, my father is inebriated a majority of the time he's out and about."

"Well if you ever decide to return to writing poetry, you have my full support."

You nod, "Thank you, Ben. I really appreciate it."

"Y/N," you turn to your right to see Daphne now walking beside you, pushing Auggie in his pram.

"Yes, Your Grace?" you stop and answer her with a teasing smirk. You're older than Daphne by a few years, but just two years younger than Benedict. You've always seen Daphne as a younger sister, being that you are an only child. Occasionally the teasing will produce itself between you two.

"Would you like to join us for dinner?"

You can't help but laugh, "Of course, but I've been spending my entire day with you already. Won't you all get tired of me?"

"We'd never tire of you, Y/N," Benedict replies with earnest and it brings a warm smile to your place.

"Be that as it may, I believe the Viscount should have the final word?"

Anthony, Kate, and Violet catch up to you as you're all looking at Anthony. He looks at you all in confusion, "Something the matter?"

Daphne speaks up, "I invited Y/N to stay for dinner if that's alright, brother?"

He shoots you a grin, "Of course. Miss L/N is always welcome. You're practically family, yes?" he shoots Benedict a wink and you're not sure why.

"Well thank you for the invitation," you look down at your dress, "But perhaps, I should at least change. This dress isn't particularly dinner attire."

"What do you mean? You look beautiful as always," Benedict states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

The Bridgertons all give each other knowing looks. That's when the Dowager Viscountess speaks up, "Benedict, darling, Y/N is right. After the promenade, we should allow her to freshen up before dinner."

Kate removes herself from Anthony and loops arms with you, "Let us continue our promenade, Y/N."

"Of course!" you giggle with your friend as you continue on the trail.

Benedict moves to follow, but Anthony pats his brother on the shoulder, "You've spent hours with her, brother. Let her take a break from you clinging to her all the time."

Benedict looks at his older brother in offense, "I don't cling to her...do I?"

"A bit, darling," Violet says and Daphne nods in agreement.

He runs his hand through his hair and sighs, "I'm too obvious, aren't I?"

Daphne shakes her head, "No, I don't think so. If you were, she'd have said something, yes? Or maybe would have run for the hills?" she asks with a smirk to her elder brothers, before continuing to push Augie down the path.

_________________

When you arrive back home to change, you ask the housekeeper, Mrs. Burnett, if your aunt is home.

"No, Miss, she's gone to meet with Lady Danbury," the older woman replies.

You nod, "Thank you, Mrs. Burnett," you gather your dress and make your way to your room upstairs.

You freeze when you see the door ajar and you know for a fact you closed it before leaving earlier.

You slowly push the door open and your heart drops when you see your father surrounded by pages and pages of poems. Poems that are supposed to be written by a man.

You gulp and slowly approach him as he sits at your writing desk, "Papa?"

His eyes meet yours in a cold and intimidating stare, "Not only have you still been indulging in poetry, but you're writing it? Under a man's name?"

"What were you doing in my room?"

"THIS IS MY HOUSE! I CAN BE ANYWHERE I PLEASE!"

You take some cautionary steps towards him, "Papa, you've had too much to drink."

"No!" he abruptly stands at your desk, causing you to jump ack in surprise. His chest is heaving as he tightly grips pages of your work, "If anyone finds out about this-"

"They won't! I've hid this from everyone for months!"

"You need to marry," he says with definitive authority.

You look at him with a confused expression, "What do you mean?"

"I can't take your defiance any longer!"

"Defiance?"

Your father walks around your desk so it's no longer a wall between you and he. He points a warning finger at you, "If you don't find a husband within a month's time, I'm marrying you off to your cousin, Albert."

Your jaw drops, "Cousin Albert?! He's absolutely horrendous! He's a rake and a gambler-"

"And looking for a wife!" he exclaims as he cuts you off, "When you were younger, your Uncle Wallace tried to convince me to have you two promised to each other once you came out to society. I regret not taking the opportunity now seeing how you've grown up."

You clench your fists in anger, "Mama wouldn't stand for this! She-

THWACK!

Your words are stuck in your throat, your cheek stinging after your father slaps you. His eyes are red and wild as he spits out, "Mama is dead! She is not here anymore! This is my house! You are to find a husband in a month or you are to marry Albert. Be grateful I'm not sending you away right this moment."

You're holding your cheek now, trying to soothe the pain. Your heart hurts for yourself and your mama. You know she'd hate the man your papa has become.

Without another word, you're rushing out of your room and bounding down the stairs.

Your aunt had just arrived back and you rush past her without a glance. She follows you in concern, "Y/N? What happened?! What's wrong? Y/N!" she yells after you as you run down the street back towards the Bridgerton household.

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagine #f!reader #fem!reader #female!reader

183 notes · View notes

fantasylandloser · 2 days

Text

Winner

Pairing: Coach!Tashi x fem!Reader x Coach!Art

Warnings: 18+, smut, too filled with shame to proofread, dom!tashi, sub!art, sub!reader, mentions of spanking, tashi is so mean in this, art is basically a prop with minimal lines, idk

*******

Training with Tashi Duncan and her husband was an honor. You knew that. You did your very best to remember that; which was hard to do when she had days like this.

“Are you scared of the fucking ball?” You shake your head, but you know better than that at this point.

“Speak up!” You flinch before you can stop yourself.

“No, I'm not scared of the ball.” You say.

“I would hope not- considering how long you’ve been doing this. That’d surely be a disappointment to your little fan club that you love so much. “ Tashi watched the way your eyebrows tinge only for a moment, at the mention of the onlookers who follow your career closely.

It was no secret that you had a great appreciation for the love that they’d shown you, but it was almost like you were completely unaware of how quickly it would be gone if you weren’t up to par at all times.

From afar Art watched the scene play out. You were the player that Tashi was the hardest on. He was sure it was to do with the fact that you were just like her. Well except for the fact that you lacked confidence in your abilities. Another reason she was hard on you. She wouldn’t see your potential wasted. But you worked hard like her, tennis was the love of your life like her.

He watched as Tashi served to you, intense and laser focused. Then you, playing back with the same intensity and just as passionate. It’s almost magical to watch until you hesitate and miss the ball.

Tashi’s on your ass before the ball can even hit the ground. “What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you in it?”

You stammer a reply that Art can’t hear. Probably an apology. His feet are moving closer before he can even think of a reason why.

“No, tell me. What’s got you so off your game lately? Because you’re not going to fucking embarrass me at your next matches because you can’t get your head out your ass.”

“Tash lighten up.” He’s ignored which is to be expected. She stares at you intensely awaiting your answer.

“How am I supposed to lighten up when she’s playing like she never held a racket before, huh?” Again she sees the twitch in your eyebrows. Good, you’re angry.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know-” Tashi holds up her hand. She doesn’t want your apology.

“You know what- if you don’t want to tell me what the problem is,” She grabs your phone which has been continuously lighting up since you started. “I’m sure this will.’

You draw in a breath of air in surprise but you make no move to stop her. Your eyes wide at the invasion, but still ever so respectful even when your privacy is being violated.

Almost immediately her eyebrows sprout up. “I thought we agreed on no boyfriends for this reason?” she shakes her head continuing to scroll through your phone as if it were hers. Art draws closer to her in interest, now intrigued about your phone as well,

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You’re embarrassed, your grip on your racket tightening as you get angry at the way she’s shaming you.

“Obviously.” She mutters. She pauses a moment, both her and Art sharing a look and you know they’ve gotten to the most mortifying part.

“Well if something would shake someone’s confidence it would be that.” You cringe, finally going to take your phone back only to be pushed back by Tashi.

“What did we talk about when it came to how you let people talk to you off the court and how it affects your game on the court?” You barely refrain from rolling your eyes.

“I can’t control what other people say” You can’t stop the edge in your voice.

“But you can control what you say. You didn’t even try to stand up for yourself. This-” She shoves the phone at you with a picture of you half naked with the word unfuckable, in the center of the screen. “Is pathetic. “ You look away when she starts scrolling more like you don’t already know the rest of the verbal assault that had been issued towards you, and then a video of your so-called boyfriend with your next opponent and the lewd graphics that came with it.

“What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?” You don’t mean for your response to be so angry. Or for the hot tears that started burning your eyes to fall. But the frustrations of your day had started to take a toll on you. So when you finally snatch your phone back from Tashi and get ready to storm off you miss the pleased look on her face. Art doesn’t though, he almost shakes his head knowing it was her intention to rile you up in the first place.

She raises an eyebrow at him, and just as she expects him to, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close. The perfect good cop. “It’s okay, kid.” You’re tense in his arms, it reminds him of the times he’s tried to comfort Tashi and she wouldn’t allow it, but after a few moments of him rubbing your back you finally relax. .

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” You start, but Tashi interrupts.

“Apologize for standing up for yourself and I’ll make you run until you pass out.” You wipe your eyes roughly and nod. Stepping away from Art’s hug and trying your best to put your game face back on.

“You got that out of your system now?” You nod again, but after a pointed gaze you speak.

“Yes.”

“Good now let’s talk about how you respond to this kind of bad sportsmanship.”

******

The outfit Tashi has you in, is just barely appropriate, You look focused, despite the whistles you’ve received on your way in. You look a little angry actually.

Art glances at Tashi beside him, who looks all too pleased. “What’d you do?”

“I didn’t have to do anything.” She’s almost bragging. He follows her line of sight to Tashi’s opponent and sees her and your not boyfriend smirking at you.

He wants to ask Tashi if she thinks this will shake your confidence more, but then he looks back at you laser focused as you stretch and he decides not to question it.

The match starts off intense with your serve. Your opponent looks surprised and even though she quickly recovers. Art can tell that this will be a win for you even though he knows Tashi despises that kind of over confident thinking.

As the match continues Tashi is gripping her seat for support. So enthralled in the game and invested in the fearlessness you’re displaying she can barely contain herself.

At one point during a break you’re caught trash talking your opponent. Tashi is sure to get you for it later. Even though the only thing she hears clearly is “enjoy my sloppy seconds” with a saccharine smile on your face. The deduction you receive is definitely worth it.

When you win as expected. Tashi is nearly buzzing and Art can’t hold back his excitement either.

****

“See this is what happens when you’re a winner.” Tashi tells you. She quite literally holding Art’s balls as he fucks into you.

“Winners are fuckable, tell her Art.” He gasps, feeling her squeeze him.

“Fuck-” He breathes. “Did so good.” You spasm around him at the praise, pulling a loud groan from him. “Knew you were gonna win, kid.”

Your whines and whimpers are muffled by Tashi’s hand. “Fuck her faster, she’s gonna come.” Art obeys immediately despite the fact that he is much too close himself. Your eyes roll back at the change of pace.

“There you go.” She squeezes Art’s balls once you start cumming so that he can too. He tries to pull himself out of you before but he can’t and leaves a sticky mess all over your cunt. “Fuck”

Tashi mounts you before you can stop twitching, lining her pussy up with yours, holding your leg over her shoulder. “Now next time I tell you to do something,, you’ll listen to me.” She starts slowly, spreading the mixture of both you and Art’s orgasm on both of you.

“Isn’t that right?” You nodding makes her speed up, giving you that look of disapproval.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, yes, yes I’ll listen to you.”

“Yeah I know you will, because now you know what good girls get.” She continues to grind against you skilfully.

“And next time you don’t listen to me-” You feel your core tense up again. “I will spank you until you cry.” Just like that you’re gone again. The masochistic side of you envisioning the picture that will haunt your fantasies until you get it.

You don’t realize the loud moan you hear is you, until Art is kissing you sloppily to silence your cries. ‘You like that don’t you?” You hear Tashi say. You want to tell her yes but you can’t with Art’s tongue down your throat. You think she knows the answer anyway.

The contrast between the way that Tashi is fucking you so vigorously and the slow kisses Art is giving you puts your head in a spin. On top of that your overstimulated clit is making it hard for you to think at all.

“Coach please-” You beg. “My pussy can’t;” You’re cut off immediately.

“Who knows what's best for you? Me or you?”

“You!” By this time tears are flowing down your face, as you feel another orgasm building all too quickly. Art wipes them, then moves his hands down to pinch your nipples.

“Exactly. Now cum.”

#challengers #tashi duncan #tashi donaldson #art donaldson #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader #tashi x art #tashi x reader #tashi x art x reader #tashi duncan smut #fantasylandloserfic

272 notes · View notes

paisleypens · 2 days

Note

Hello! I hope you’re having a good day. I heard you were taking requests so I have an idea!!

How about a Spencer Reid x Fem!shy!reader who is really quiet around the team? And so she doesn’t talk to them much? (Especially Spencer because she likes him!)

So to show her love/affection she does small things for him but doesn’t admit she was the one who did so. (Like making his coffee, secretly organizing his desk, like little kind things)

I want the confession to happen but I don’t know how I want it so you can decide! Have a little fun with it if you will.

I hope you can write this, and I’m so so sorry if it’s something you don’t want to write or feel uncomfortable with it. I just wanted to give you an idea for a story! Let me know if you don’t want to or if you will either way is fine with me!

I’m sorry if I didn’t include enough details and thank you for taking the time to read this!

Have a lovely day. 💕

(ALSO I READ YOUR OTHER SPENCER STORIES THEY WERE SPECTACULAR)

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH STOP IT MOST POLITE ASK EVERRR

this is genius btw and ive been writing so much to avoid things i actually have to do so… THANK YOU FOR FEEDING ME LMAO

acts of service | spencer reid x f!reader

let me know what you think <33

~~~~

The BAU office buzzed with its usual energy as Spencer Reid meticulously poured over case files, his mind racing through complex connections only he could decipher. Among the team, a shy figure often went unnoticed, working hard behind the scenes. Y/N, the quiet and reserved member of the team, kept to herself, her actions speaking volumes that words couldn't describe.

Spencer often found his desk mysteriously tidied up, papers organized, and his favorite pens neatly arranged. Coffee appeared magically beside his laptop, always sickeningly sweet, just how he liked it. At first, he attributed it to the office fairy, a playful term Morgan coined. However, as time passed and the small acts of service continued, Spencer couldn't ignore the pattern.

One evening, as the team gathered after a long day, Derek leaned back in his chair, eyes glinting with mischief. "Hey, pretty boy, you ever notice how Y/N here keeps your world in order without saying a word?"

"What do you mean?" Spencer furrowed his brow, glancing at her, who was discreetly arranging files nearby.

Derek chuckled, nudging Spencer. "Come on, Reid. The coffee, the desk, all those little things. It's like having a secret admirer right under your nose."

Spencer's gaze softened as realization dawned on him. He watched you for a moment, noticing the slight blush that dusted her cheeks as she worked. In that moment, he saw beyond the quiet demeanor, understanding the depth of these silent gestures.

The next morning, Spencer arrived at the office earlier than usual, a determined gleam in his eyes. He set about making coffee, meticulously following Y/N’s routine, ensuring every detail was perfect. As she entered, surprised to see him there, he offered a shy smile, holding out a mug of freshly brewed coffee.

"Morning," he greeted softly, his usually fast-paced words slowed by a newfound nervousness.

Y/N blinked in astonishment, taking the mug from his outstretched hand. "Th-thank you, Spencer.”

He nodded, his cheeks tinged with pink. "I just wanted to say... I appreciate everything you do. Your actions speak louder than words, and they haven't gone unnoticed, I just hope you meant it in the way I interpreted it."

A smile bloomed on her face, warmth spreading through her chest. Finally feeling understood, she replied, "I like you too, Spencer. And not just for the coffee."

From that day forward, Spencer and Y/N shared more than just a quiet understanding. Silent acts of love were now met with drawn out conversation and reciprocated gestures, creating a bond that spoke volumes even when rooted in the absence of sound.

#criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #paisleypens

264 notes · View notes

hughes86-43 · 1 day

Text

prompt - “If we both want to fit, we’ll have to cuddle”

note- idk what this is, I kinda just started writing it out.

warnings - none? some grammar mistakes.

For several years now, it has been known that you and Jack did not get along. Honestly, you’re not really sure when it all started that you two just did not like each other. You just know that both of you haven’t let up with the comebacks you both throw toward each other, and people and friends know how aggressive you both get towards each other, nothing bad but it can get heated. Despite how good of a friend you are to Luke, you just cannot get past arguing with Jack, and he wastes no time doing the same to you.

Summer was right around the corner, and to celebrate the end of the hockey season and to bring everyone together, it was decided that a vacation was the best option for everybody. You were excited as you haven’t seen everyone in forever, but that would mean that you would have to see Jack, and he was the last person you wanted to be around.

Everyone decided that the perfect vacation spot was to a beach house in Tampa, Florida. Quinn, Trevor, Luke, Jack, Cole, Alex, and some other girls and guys that are friends of them arrived earlier than you. Once you made it, Luke picked you up from the airport. After hugging you he wasted no time to tell you to be on your best behavior around Jack. Throwing an arm around your shoulder, Luke says, “Now I know how you and Jack can get around each other, and me and the others are just begging that you keep the arguing on the down low.”

Smirking at him, you say, “And did you tell this to Jack as well? It’s as much him, as it is me, ya know?”

Luke throws his head back laughing, because he expected you to say something like that. “Yes, we all told Jack the same thing. Now let’s go, everybody has been waiting on you!”

Finally arriving to the beach house, Luke grabbed your bags and helped you inside. As soon as you were inside, everyone came and welcomed you as they were so excited to finally see you. However, that happiness died a bit for you when you saw Jack.

After hugging Cole last, you see Jack out of the corner of your eye leaning against the wall. He speaks up when he notices you looking at him, “Glad to see someone finally made it, ya know this whole thing started hours ago?”

As soon as he started speaking, you wanted to pull his hair out, one by one. However, Luke told you to behave so you would do just that. Repeating in your head, be nice be nice be nice.

Breathing out, you say with the biggest smile, “Glad to see you too, you ass.” Technically, you were still being nice, you smiled and greeted him. Everyone just stood there glancing between the both of you, waiting to see if this exchange would turn into a full on battle.

“Nice to see you haven’t changed, now have you heard the news?” Jack says with a smirk.

Giving him a glare, you ask, “What news? Oh my gosh, are you leaving?!”

“No,” Jack replies with a glare, “Since Lukey here didn’t tell you, I guess I will, we are going to have to share a room.”

As soon as he said it, you start busting out laughing, “You’re joking, aren’t you? You and me share a room? That’s crazy!” You look around to everyone but nobody is laughing along, mostly just taking in this whole scene.

Slowly Luke and Quinn move forward, wincing Luke says, “It’s not a joke, you two are going to have to share a room. I should’ve said that, but we’re down on rooms compared to people, and Jack drew your name in the “roommate” draw for this weekend.”

Quinn reaches out to put a hand on your shoulder, “Sorry, my advice is just to not kill him, but I know he can be a bit too much sometimes.”

“Hey!” You hear Jack yell out.

Speaking up, “Okay, it’s okay! It will be fine! I won’t kill him, as long as he doesn’t do anything that would require me to do so.”

Jack walks forward toward you, “Well don’t make it difficult, and I won’t do anything!”

“Me make it difficult? Have you met you? You make everything difficult!” You point a finger into his chest.

Quinn quickly goes between the two of you before this argument gets blown out of proportion. “Okay! That’s enough, you two can argue all night long! For right now, it’s late and tomorrow is a big day of adventures, now go to bed!”

Feeling like you were scolded by your dad, you follow through with what he said. “Okay, you’re right. Let’s head to bed,” you grab your suitcase, turning back to Jack, “Cmon roomie! Let’s go check out our room!”

Jack grumbles, but leads the way to your shared room.

Faintly behind you down the hall, Quinn says to the others, “You think they know there is only one bed in there?” The others just laugh. Five seconds later, they soon figured out the answer, and then start making there way to their rooms so they can’t deal with the aftermath.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” You yell.

“One bed! You’re joking!” Jack yells.

“You!,” you turn towards Jack, “you did this, didn’t you! You knew there was only one bed, so I could get the floor!”

Jack spins around, “Me? I had no idea there would only be one bed! I just drew the stick!”

Sighing, you bring your hand to your throbbing head. You walk towards the bed and sit down, trying to think this through. “Okay, I’ll be the bigger person, I’ll sleep on the floor and you can take the bed.”

Jack immediately shakes his head, “No, you can get the bed, and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Jack, you were here first, you can get the bed. It’s just a couple nights, I can sleep on the floor.” To prove your point, you grab your pillow and blanket and make a spot on the floor. Once the spot is laid out, you lay down and act all bundled up, despite the fact it’s the floor and it’s hard as a rock.

You close your eyes, but you immediately hear Jack laughing. Opening one eye, you glare at him. “What? I’m trying to sleep?”

“Y/N, take the damn bed, we both know the floor isn’t comfortable.” He extends his hand towards you to help you up. You think for a few moments on the idea, and then take his hand.

Once you’re up, you put your pillow and blanket back on the bed. You can feel Jack staring at you behind you. You know you’ll regret the words that are going to come out of your mouth but you say them anyway. “You know, we would just both sleep in the bed?”

“And share the same bed as you?” Jack says, but he immediately regrets it. “Wait, I didn’t mean it so badly.”

“Wow, if you’re going to be all rude again, just go sleep in the bathtub,” you sigh.

Thinking about it, the bed is not really that big so it would mean you both would be super close to each other. However, you didn’t want to sleep on the floor and he didn’t want to sleep on the floor, so it made since to share the bed.

“Ugh, fine, we can share the bed,” Jack says, immediately bringing his pillow to the other side of the bed. “Just don’t steal my covers!”

“Mhmm,” you agree.

Going back over to your suitcase, you pull out some pajamas. “I’m going to change real quick, I’ll be back.” You thought you would be sleeping in a room by yourself, so you brought your tiny shorts and tiny tank top to wear, and now you’re regretting that decision. Making your way to the hall bathroom, you notice someone is already in there, sighing you turn back around to go back to the bedroom.

“Welp, someone is in there, so I’m just going to change in here, you don’t have to leave, but do you care to just turn around?” You ask Jack, as he is laying down scrolling through his phone.

He nods and flips over onto his side that isn’t facing you. You hurry and change into your pajamas. Clearing your throat, you say, “Okay, you can look now.”

Jack flips back around, and immediately notices your tiny pajamas and takes in the sight. He notices how much bare skin is showing between the bottom and top of the tank top and shorts. Swallowing, he says, “Cute pajamas.”

Turning around from grabbing your charger, you look at him. “Thanks, I guess,” you reply, “Um, I thought I would be in a room by myself, so I didn’t think these pajamas would matter that much but I’m not by myself.” You shiver under the intense glare that he is giving you.

“Nah, they’re cute. Now, I’m tired, let’s head to bed,” he says from his spot still laying on the bed.

You grudgingly make your way to the bed and plug your phone up before getting under the covers. You slowly realize this bed isn’t big enough for the two of you. You’re practically smushed into his side, and he has a leg already over yours. Not knowing where to put your arm, you just decide to awkwardly put it above your head.

You’re still moving around ten minutes after Jack turned off the lights. Sighing, he flips over to look at you. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to get comfortable, what are you doing?” You say back to him.

“I’m trying to sleep is what I’m doing, but I can’t when someone keeps moving!”

“Well, I can’t help it when this bed was only made for one person!” You throw your hands up, frustrated once again by this situation.

“If we both want to fit, we’ll have to cuddle, ya know?” You hear him say next to you.

Slowly moving your head, you glare at him again. “Cuddle, with you? I’d rather just sleep uncomfortable.”

He just gives you a smirk back before saying, “You know what, we’re going to cuddle. Because I know if you don’t get good enough sleep, you’re going to be in an even more grouchy mood tomorrow! So come here!”

You just stay right in your spot, not moving. That is until you feel arms move around you. “What are you doing!”

“We’re going to have to cuddle to fit, I just said that so that is what I’m doing!” He moves you closer to him so that your head is on his chest and his arm is wrapped around your shoulder. He has one leg over yours.

Not wanting to admit it, but he is right that this was the better option. You slowly relax into his embrace.

He must’ve noticed, because you can hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “See, I told you it was the better option.”

“Yeah, yeah, go to sleep,” you say with a small laugh.

The next morning, you wake up still in his embrace. He has the softest look on his face while his hand is covering your arm and leg stilled wrapped around you. For some reason, you realize that there is not any where else you would rather be, and you’re finding comfort from the one guy that has been anything but to you. So you just continue laying there in his arms until the alarm goes off with the biggest smile on your face.

#jack hughes #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagines #nhlhockey fic #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey fics

113 notes · View notes

rblackdeco · 1 day

Text

Sunkisses

— pairing(s): lifeguard!james potter x gn!reader

— a/n: the brainrot i am having over this you don't understand, someone said lifeguard!james and i ran with it

— summary: james can't take his eyes off you when he sees you

James Potter was many things. Unfortunately, for everybody at the beach, he was not good at keeping things exactly professional. He was a lost cause from the moment he saw you, your hair wet and blowing with the wind, the smell of the sea he knew from the first second that would stick to your skin for the next couple days.

James thinks he would've fallen even if he had other options. How could he not?

And then again, there was work. A summer gig more of kinds, but nevertheless. He was supposed to keep it professional, he was supposed to focus. Damn him, kids could drown! He wasn't supposed to fall for the first cute person who watched him help aforementioned kids, but James was not strong in that way.

A lost cause, really, would be more of the appropriate wording.

James took a couple days to approach you, and still he could feel you looking, stealing glances every time you could. He felt a little less guilty in doing the same. You had a clear drink in hand, a few strawberries drowning in ice, and he couldn't figure out what it was for the dear life of him, but he knew it was sold across the street and you bought one everyday without fail, just when his shift was about to end.

Today he sat by your side and ordered the same. It wasn't too strong, and it was really tastier that what he expected. The bartender brought both cups at the same time and James tipped him. You would always get up, enjoy your drink closer to the sea. You didn't.

"You're a lifeguard, huh?" You ask him, eyes stealing another welcome glance of him. "Should you be drinking?"

"Yeah, only for the summer. though." He nodded. "And well, my shift's over, for about five minutes now."

"God helps the tourists." You laugh, looking at him as you stir your drink, taking another sip of it as your eyes looked away to the sun setting behind you, then back at him. "How you like it?"

"It's nice. Grew up around these parts." You raise a brow, and he chuckles. "Don't say you can't see it, you'll offend me."

"Sorry." You offer, hiding your smile.

"Care to tell me what I'm drinking?" His smile is so nice you feel it radiating to you, making your cheeks as warm as the sun could. You can barely distinguish a couple freckles in his, if you look closely, and to his credit, the faded tan on his skin is distinguishable enough.

"Oh, so you're taking drink recommendations from strangers?" You raise a brow, teasingly.

"Only if the stranger is pretty." He's fast to reply, shrugging your taunting off. It makes you smile however cheap his line was, and James takes it as a compliment. You've got the prettiest smile he's ever seen.

"Calling me pretty and I don't even know your name, that's a first." You snicker, another sip on your drink now watery.

"Well, I don't know your name either, stranger." He answers, letting the silence linger for a moment. "I'm James."

"Nice to meet you, James." You say back, telling him your name in exchange. James makes a note to remember it for next time he sees you, which he's hoping it's soon. Your drink is more than halfway through and he hadn't asked you anything other than your name.

The words rush past his lips in a blur. "Am I going to see you around?" He feels stupid, but you smile despite it. His heart feels lighter.

"Sure, James. As long as no kids drown and get you fired." The joke is bad, but he smiles like you just said something very endearing. To all accounts, he wasn't letting them drown before, but now he seems determined to never let a single child step towards water again if that's what it takes to keep his job, to keep you.

"They wouldn't dare to." He smirks and you know he means it.

#marauders #marauders fic #marauders era #the marauders era #marauders fluff #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter blurb #james potter fluff #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #rblackdeco writes — ★

110 notes · View notes

pockettwinzz · 2 days

Text

One More Chance - Y.JW

୨୧pairings୨୧ : co-worker!Jungwon x co-worker!femreader

୨୧warnings୨୧ : exes to lovers, fluff, angst, jungwon gets drunk

୨୧wc୨୧ : 1.8k

The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting eerie shadows on the rows of identical cubicles. The air-conditioning unit hummed lazily, struggling to keep up with the heat. You leaned back in your chair, your gaze drifting towards the window as you absentmindedly twirled a lock of auburn hair around your finger. Something about today felt different, but you couldn't quite put your finger on what it was.

The sound of footsteps approaching down the hall snapped you back to reality. A familiar figure emerged from the sea of cubicles, walking towards your direction. Your heart skipped a beat as recognition washed over you. Jungwon. Your ex-boyfriend from college. You hadn't seen him in years.

The memories flooded back like a tidal wave: the way he'd always tease you about your love for plushies, the way he'd make you laugh until your sides hurt, the way he'd kiss you under the stars on the quad… You blinked back the sudden sting of tears, feeling a mixture of emotions washing over you. Part of you wanted to run away, while another part was desperate to talk to him.

As he drew closer, you found yourself unable to look away from his familiar face. He was just as handsome as you remembered, with his cute dimples and those captivating eyes that seemed to hold a thousand stories. You wondered what had brought him here, to this drab little office.

"Yn?" he said, his voice soft and hesitant. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade away. You cleared your throat, trying to find your voice.

"H-hi Jungwon." You managed to squeak out. It came out sounding a lot higher-pitched than you'd intended. You cursed yourself for sounding like such a little girl.

He smiled, and it was that same smile you remembered, the one that used to make your heart skip a beat. "Hi Yn." He replied, taking a step closer. "It's been a long time." His voice was soft, almost hesitant.

You couldn't help but return the smile, despite the nervousness that fluttered in your stomach. "It really has." You nodded, trying to find your voice. The air between you seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension, like static electricity about to spark. "So, what brings you here?" You asked, gesturing around the office.

He shrugged, seeming to choose his words carefully. "I actually just started here a few days ago. The company I was working for went under, so I was out of a job. I'm still looking for my bearings around here." He laughed softly, but there was an edge of bitterness to it. "Guess I'm in the same boat as everyone else."

You bit your bottom lip, you hadn't expected to see him here, let alone work with him. "I'm sorry to hear that," you said, feeling the words hollow in your mouth. "It's a tough job market out there."

Jungwon nodded, his expression solemn. "Yeah, it is. But I'm trying to make the best of it." He glanced around the office again, his gaze landing on the small plushie on your desk. It was the same one you'd had since freshman year of college.

Your heart skipped a beat as you noticed the way he was looking at it. "Oh, this old thing?" You chuckled, trying to sound nonchalant. "I've had it forever."

Jungwon smiled, his eyes never leaving the plushie. "I remember that. You used to take it everywhere with you." He paused, then asked, "Do you still keep it close?"

The question caught you off guard. You looked up from the desk, meeting his gaze. "Well, it's been with me through a lot of changes. I guess it's become sort of a reminder of who I used to be, you know? Before everything got so complicated."

There was a long silence as you both looked at each other, memories flickering behind your eyes. The way he'd always take you on dates to your favourite places, or the times you'd stay up all night discussing your favorite movies. It felt like a lifetime ago, and yet, it also felt like no time had passed at all.

Your boss happened to walk by, interrupting the moment. "Everything okay over here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Jungwon quickly snapped out of his thoughts and smiled at your boss. "Oh, yeah. Just catching up on old times."

Your boss seemed satisfied with the answer and moved on, leaving you and Jungwon alone once again. The silence stretched between you, and you found yourself wondering if he was feeling the same way you were. The air in the office felt charged, as if a bolt of electricity could shoot through it at any moment.

You cleared your throat, trying to break the tension.

"You should get settled in. Find your desk, your chair…you know, all that stuff." You laughed nervously. "It's a big office, lots to take in."

He nodded, his gaze drifting back to the plushie. "Yeah, I'm still trying to figure it all out. It's been a little overwhelming, to be honest." There was an awkward silence as he picked up the plushie and examined it for a moment before placing it back on your desk.

"Well," you said, clearing your throat again, "I'm sure you'll find your way around. And who knows? Maybe this is just the fresh start you needed." You forced a reassuring smile, hoping that it didn't look as fake as it felt.

Jungwon looked up at you, his expression softening. "Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate that." There was a brief silence as he seemed to struggle with what to say next. Finally, he turned away and started to walk towards the door. "I'll see you around, I guess."

It had been an odd day already, and now it was ending with this strange, almost surreal conversation with Jungwon. You found yourself unable to shake the feeling that something significant had just happened between you, something that had shifted the dynamics of your relationship in a profound way. But what exactly that something was, you couldn't quite put your finger on.

After a few weeks had passed, the initial shock of Jungwon's arrival had mostly worn off. You had settled into your routine again, and he had found his place among the other executives. You still caught each other's eye from time to time, and there was always a certain undercurrent of tension whenever you were in the same room. But for the most part, you had managed to avoid any more awkward or meaningful conversations.

One Night, You received a call from Jungwon, well that was unexpected. You answered the phone with a groggy, "Hello?".

"Y/N?" Jungwon said in a slurred voice. He sounded drunk.

You sat up in bed, instantly alert. "Jungwon? Are you okay?" You asked, concern lacing your words. It was rare for him to call you so late at night, let alone sound so intoxicated.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line before he responded. "Yeah…I'm not really sure. I just…I miss you yn." His voice was thick with emotion, and you could hear the unsteadiness in his breathing.

You hesitated for a moment, taken aback by his confession. It was true that you had grown close over the months you had worked together, but you hadn't expected him to feel this way about it.

"I'm sorry for being a dick. For letting go of us back then," He stammered.

You were taken aback by his words. You had never expected him to bring up the past, much less apologize for it. There was a long silence as you both wrestled with your emotions.

"Jungwon, I…" You started, unsure of how to proceed. You wanted to reassure him, to tell him that you missed him too, but the words seemed to catch in your throat.

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. You could hear Jungwon breathing heavily, as if struggling with his emotions. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I swear I'm not lying yn. I'll treat you better, please."

Your heart twisted at the pain and desperation in his voice. You wanted to believe him, to trust him. But you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. What if this was all just some drunken confession, something he'd regret in the morning? You didn't want to risk your heart again, not after everything you'd been through.

"Jungwon," you said carefully, "I want to believe you. I really do. But..."

There was another long silence before Jungwon spoke up again. "I'm sorry for calling you, I shouldn't have. I just…I miss you so much, and I thought maybe…I don't know." His voice trailed off, and you could hear the tears in his throat.

You bit your lip, feeling a mixture of emotions churning inside you. You wanted to comfort him, to tell him that everything would be okay. But at the same time, you were scared. Scared of getting hurt again, of opening yourself up only to have him push you away.

Before you could speak, he continued, "I just…I don't want to lose you again. Not like this. Please, just give me another chance. I'll make it up to you. I'll do anything. I swear."

Maybe he deserved another chance, you thought to yourself, taking a deep breath. Jungwon had been nothing but kind and considerate to you before everything had fallen apart. And he sounded so sincere, so heartbroken, on the other end of the line. You didn't want to be the one to push him away, to deny him the chance to prove himself.

"Okay," you said softly, your voice barely audible even to your own ears. "I'll…give you another chance."

There was a long pause as you both tried to process the weight of what you had just said. Finally, Jungwon let out a shaky breath, and you could hear a tear trickle down his face.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you, I promise I'll make it up to you. I'll be the best boyfriend I can be." His voice was thick with emotion, and you could hear the sincerity in every word.

"I love you Yn." Jungwon whispered. It felt like he was saying it for the first time, like he was truly meaning it. You closed your eyes, feeling a lump forming in your throat. "I-I love you too jungwon."

"D-Do you want to go out with me to the movies after work tomorrow?" Jungwon asked, his voice still shaky. You could picture him sitting there on the other end of the phone, wiping away tears, trying to compose himself.

Your heart swelled at the thought of spending time with him again. "I'd like that," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'd really like that."

Reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!

Perm Taglist: @alvojake @cha-eui @heeslut4life @dollywons @wondipity @wonlvkay @hoonieshoney @emi-en @enhabooks @star-hoon

#pockettwinzz writes #enhypen #enhypen jungwon #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen jungwon imagines #enhypen jungwon smut #enhypen jungwon x reader #enhypen jungwon fluff #jungwon fluff #jungwon x reader #yang jungwon #jungwon angst #enhypen fanfic #jungwon imagines #jungwon scenarios #jungwon x you #dividers by dollywons #enhypen imagines

101 notes · View notes

kvrokasaa · 1 day

Text

The Morning After

Includes: Isagi, Otoya, Reo, Chigiri, and Rin

Cw: Suggestive, Reo's mentions reader's hair being kinda long, not proofread. 1.4k words

Yoichi wakes up to the soft glare of the sun filtering through the blinds. He blinks a few times, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. The events of last night come rushing back to him - the laughter, the touches, the connection. He turns his head slightly and sees you lying next to him, still peacefully asleep.

A soft, almost inaudible chuckle leaves his lips while he takes in the serenity of the scene. Your hair is sprawled out on the pillow, your arms clutching the poor thing for dear life.

Cute.

Carefully, Isagi slips out of bed, trying not to wake you. He stretches, feeling the pleasant soreness from last night's activities. He moves quietly, deciding to make coffee and prepare a simple breakfast. As he waits for the coffee, he glances back towards the bedroom, his thoughts drifting. Last night felt different than any other one-night stand. It felt special. There was a connection between you both. It makes him feel both excited and nervous about what could come next.

You stir awake at the smell of coffee - the aroma drawing you out of your slumber. You stretch and sit up, the blanket slipping down to your waist.

You notice Isagi in the kitchen - with no shirt on - making breakfast and coffee. You could almost drool at the sight. "Morning," you say softly, your voice a bit raspy from all the moaning and screaming from the night before.

Isagi turns his face lighting at the sight of you in his shirt and nothing else. "Good morning," he replies, his voice gentle. "I made some coffee. Want a cup?"

You nod and reach out to grab the cup filled with coffee. Isagi speaks as you put in your desired creams and sugars. "Last night was amazing," he started, "I'd love to see where this can go." And of course, you have no other answer than yes.

You wake up with a start, the early morning light filtering through the curtains. As the events from last night come rushing back, you feel a mix of exhilaration and anxiety. You turn your head to see Otoya still asleep beside you, his face relaxed and peaceful. For a moment, you just watch him, trying to sort through your tangled thoughts and feelings.

You've known Otoya since you were kids, but his reputation as a player makes your heart ache with uncertainty. Was last night just another fleeting moment for him? Does he have a girlfriend? The doubts gnaw at you, making it hard to breathe.

Carefully, you slip out of bed, trying not to wake him. You move quietly around the room, gathering your clothes and getting dressed as quickly and silently as possible. You hope to leave before he wakes up, to spare yourself any potential heartbreak.

Just as you reach the door, you hear a rustle behind you. You freeze, your heart pounding.

"Leaving so soon?" Otoya's voice is soft, but it startles you. You turn to see him standing behind you, his eyes half-open but focused on you. "I-I should go," you stammer, not meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry, I just..." You trail off.

"I'm scared. You have a reputation and I don't want to get hurt. What if you have another girl? What if last night didn't mean anything to you?" You voice your thoughts. It's a drawl, you think. Either your friendship is ruined forever, or you let him break your heart in silence.

He steps closer, his eyes searching yours. "I've known you since childhood, you think I'd use you like that?" His voice is soft, filled with seriousness you rarely hear from him. You don't respond. You know that he wouldn't do that, don't you?

"Last night wasn't just some fling. It meant everything to me. You mean everything to me. I love you." That got you to look up at him.

"But you've never said anything." "I just realized," he answers honestly. "I know that you probably don't believe me." His hand comes up to cup your cheek, "Just give me some time. Let's figure this out together."

Reo woke up with a warm sensation spreading through his chest. He blinked sleepily, his gaze shifting to the figure beside him. You looked so peaceful, your hair cascading down over the pillow in gentle waves. A soft smile curved his lips against your neck, trailing kisses down to your collarbone. The touch was gentle, reverent almost, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

He felt a surge of affection, a deep longing that bordered on obsession. You stirred, a small sound escaping your lips, and he couldn't help but smile wider. Being this close to you, sharing these intimate moments, filled with a sense of contentment he hadn't known before.

Your bodies are entwined, fitting together like puzzle pieces. He traced patterns on your skin, each touch a silent declaration of his affection.

As you both exchanged whispered words and soft laughter, he couldn't help but marvel at the connection you both share. It's more than the physical attraction; it's a bond that transcends words, a silent understanding that you belong together.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourselves in each other, forgetting the outside world exists. In this moment, all that matters is the warmth from your skin, the rhythm of your breaths syncing in perfect harmony.

Reo knows he's falling deeper, that this isn't just a fleeting attraction. You've become his everything, a beacon of light in his dull world. And as you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion, he couldn't help but feel grateful for every moment with you.

As the morning light filters through the curtains, Chigiri finds himself waking up next to you. The memories of last night flood back, filling him with a warm sense of contentment. He can't help but smile as he recalls how you finally confessed your feelings to him, through drunken words and moans.

Your peaceful sleeping face is a sight to behold, and he can't resist reaching out to gently brush a strand of your hair away. The way you sleepily smile makes his heart race with affection. It's moments like this that make him realize just how much he cares for you.

As he lies there, basking in the afterglow of your shared intimacy, he can't help but reflect on how far you've both come. From the first day you helped him with his leg injury to volunteering to monitor and do regular check-ups at Blue Lock, your bond has only grown stronger.

He knows this is just the beginning of something intimate between you two. With you by Chigiri's side, he feels like he can conquer anything. And as he watches you stir awake, a smile playing on your lips, he knows that he wouldn't want it any other way.

As the morning sun filters through the curtains, you find yourself waking up beside Rin. The soft warmth of his body against yours reminds you of the night before, where passion and tenderness intertwined in a dance only lovers could understand.

Rin stirs beside you, his eyes fluttering to meet yours. There's a moment of hesitation, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken emotions between you. Then, with a gentle smile, he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face.

"You're still here," he murmurs, his voice carrying a mix of surprise and relief.

You nod your head, not knowing if you should leave or not. "Yeah." Rin immediately notices your tone mixed with uncertainty and hesitation. "I know I said some things before...about you distracting me from soccer," he begins, his gaze searching yours for understanding.

Your eyes trail down to his hand, his fingers climbing onto your hand. "You're passionate about soccer, Rin. I know that. But you don't get to shut out everything else. We can find a balance."

He exhales slowly as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. "I want that, too." He admits, pulling you closer into a warm embrace.

The room is filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sound of your breathing and gentle rustles of movement as Rin lays his head on your chest. He hums in contentment when he hears the sound of your heartbeat. And with each shared whisper of love and longing, it becomes clear that despite his initial reluctance, he's fully committed to making things work between you.

103 notes · View notes

batsycline69 · 23 hours

Text

Head Above Ground, Feet in the Grave

Summary: You get a tattoo from Jason and realize your first impression may not have been spot on

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Words: 5,576

Warnings: needles, profanity, canon-typical violence, reader has tattoos but is otherwise not described, jason doesn’t know how to flirt.

“So. Whatcha reading?” he asks over the buzz of his needle gun. Your confused look is enough get him talking again. “Saw you with a book out front.”

As soon as he stepped out into the front thirty-five minutes after your appointment was supposed to begin, as peeved as you were, you couldn’t deny he was attractive. One of his broad shoulders leaned into the wall, his thick, tattooed arms crossed over his chest. Dark curls with a patch of white at the front.

“Oh, it’s Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier,” you reply, a little surprised the guy built like a brick shithouse was asking about your reading. Then again, he’s probably just trying to make conversation.

Jason just nods.

Maybe he isn’t trying to make conversation.

The bad news is, up close, he’s even more handsome. Now you can see the little scar that angles through his eyebrow and another that curves up along his cheek. His eyes are intense as he works, his absurdly large hand has a firm grip on your forearm, guiding you as he works. He smells like cigarettes, but only just, and what you can assume is the lingering smell of the timeworn leather jacket sprawled across the chair in the corner. And all of this is bad news because this guy is obviously bad news. How can he not be, right?

It’s just this feeling, one that you couldn’t shake as soon as he sauntered towards you, the smell of cigarette smoke lingering on his worn black t-shirt. Like he’s too cool for you. Even as he’s permanently etching a skeletal bird into your arm, there’s this air about him you can’t quite place.

Before he led you back to his station, you were so certain there was going to be some sort of bikini-clad model plastered to the wall. But yet, the space is surprisingly empty. There’s a little corkboard leaning against a small table with old designs thumb-tacked to the board and not much else.

“How long have you been working here?” you ask.

Despite asking, you already kind of know the answer.

You’ve been following the shop’s Instagram for a while now. You remember the post introducing Jason, the carousel of photos demonstrating his work. Not that you’d tell him right now, but you had fallen in love with his style as soon as you saw it. The sure, thick lines. The moody shading. Bones and knives and bugs. He had no Instagram of his own for his work that you could find; only the posts in the shop with the caption ‘by Jay.’

“Couple months,” Jason replies. “I was traveling around for a while before. This is the first steady place I’ve worked.”

“Oh, wow, that’s cool. Where were you before?” you ask. It’s small talk, and you hate it, but the lack of conversation is uncomfortable in a way that usually isn’t the case. Silence doesn’t bother you. His silence does.

You wonder if his home lacks as much personality as his station. You imagine his apartment is the kind with the mattress sitting on the floor, TV on top of a folding table, and a refrigerator full of cheap beer. Something that doesn’t feel completely moved into.

He gives a small shrug of his broad shoulders. “All around,” he replies.

Even small talk seems to be off the table.

You give a curt nod of your head. A couple minutes pass, and you can’t take it anymore. “Sorry, you mind if I grab my book real fast?”

Jason nods in return, pulling the gun away. “Go for it.”

God, you feel him watching you as you slip off the table, heading towards your bag on the little couch in the corner. Why is he watching? Why is this so awkward? Is it you? Is this guy just that standoffish? You pull out your worn bookand get back into position on the table.

“You good?” he asks, his intense eyes still trained on you.

“Yeah, all good,” you say, holding the book open with one hand as the buzzing starts back up again.

This is pathetic.

Jason has spent the last few years spending his time around the worst of the worst. He’s been with assassins, arms dealers, and soldiers so bad, even the U.S. Military didn’t want them, and yet, he’s fumbling just because someone cute is reading classic literature.

Fuck.

He’s supposed to be better than this. Ever since he got back into Gotham two months ago, he’s been making deals with the worst of the worst—as far as drug dealers go—without breaking a sweat, and yet holding a conversation with you turns him into Mr. Darcy. He’s blowing it, and he cares that he’s blowing it.

At least everyone thinks he’s dead. If this had gotten out to anyone, he’d die again.

It’s been five years since he was resurrected. A couple of weeks have passed since he flew back into Gotham with another one of Talia’s connections, this time intending to stay for good. He found a little tattoo shop near Crime Alley. Close enough to keep tabs on everything, but not so close that he’d be crossing paths with Batman regularly. The last thing he needs is to run into Bruce while trying to come up on top of Gotham’s underworld. Not until everything was ready.

That’s his world. Swept off the street and recruited for a war that wasn’t even his, not really. That’s just what he was sold: security to a kid fending for himself.

Bruce may have believed he had something to show Jason about Gotham, but this city raised him more than anything. Without a stable place to call home, the city’s streets were the substitute. What more did Bruce have to teach him when Jason had already huddled for warmth in these alleys? Ran from cops, knew all the hiding spots. What did Bruce have to offer when Jason already saught comfort in a place where comfort died? In a place where hope was trying to grow on salted earth. A place so haunted, it’s more ghost than city.

Jason was made for Gotham.

After he died, Gotham fell to ruins in the greatest earthquake she’s ever seen. An anomaly. The world wanted to watch Gotham burn, abandon the city and everyone remaining inside it. Leave her buried in the fate the world deemed appropriate for a city so infected that everyone around suffered.

He knows what it means to come back again, maybe when staying gone was what should have been done.

While he learned how to kill, he learned how to tattoo. Bruce always went on about the importance of keeping their identities safe; he chose his playboy routine, and Jason chose this.

It started before Bruce even took him in. One of the older kids he used to sell stolen car parts to gave him a stick ‘n poke in the back of his dad’s auto shop. It’d only been a few weeks after his mom died. Bruce saw it within a few days of living at the manor. He didn’t comment, but Jason saw the scowl when Bruce saw the shitty skull on his ankle. He didn’t approve, and that made his chosen path all the sweeter.

In London, the guys he was staying with tattooed each other to pass the time. That’s how it all really started. He watched their hands as they worked, watched the way the ink shot into the skin. He gave his first tattoo in the seedy back room of some haunt for scumbags. He had yet to feel at home within his body again, like it was just on loan. Like his reanimation was contingent on something that could be taken away at any time.

But he kept living. And he picked up tattooing fairly quickly. He gave plenty of shitty tattoos to men whose lives ran off of fucking over innocent people. Some of them wouldn’t even live to regret his uneven lines. A good number of them, Jason watched die.

None of that, however, negates the fact that he still can’t have a conversation with you.

Every so often, he spares a glance at you as you read. You’re holding the book with one hand, awkwardly turning the page with your pinky in a way that he knows won’t last long. He’s trying to rack his brain for something, anything, to talk to you about once you need a break from your position.

When his moment finally comes, he clears his throat.

“You ever read any Virginia Woolf?” he asks.

He’s going to spoil his whole ‘asshole tattoo artist’ persona because he’s not supposed to be reading tragic modernist writers, but he can’t bring himself to fall into his usual routine. He wants to hide behind the metaphorical mask he wears when he’s not wearing his literal mask, but he just fucking can’t with you.

He doesn’t know you. You’re just someone who booked with him a few months ago. You’re a civilian, and he is supposed to be getting ready for his Gotham takeover. Now isn’t the time. He’s got work to do.

Unsurprisingly, you seem caught off guard by his question when you look up from your book. You try to regain your composure. You seem like someone who wants to be polite like that. Jason’s eyes land on your finger as it slips into your book to hold your place.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I’ve read a couple of hers.”

Jason gives a single nod of his head. He breathes as if steadying his aim to shoot. “I’m reading Mrs. Dalloway right now,” he says.

If you were someone he had to threaten, it would be going better than this. He could get you to tell him all of your secrets in under a minute no problem. But he doesn’t actually have to know how to do any of this to know that’s the wrong way to go about it. Besides, how could he forgive himself if he brought you into Red Hood’s world? You don’t belong there.

“Are you much of a reader then?” you ask.

Jason recognizes it for what it is. You’re holding out a hand, practically guiding him into a conversation just like you’ve tried so many times. You notice he’s trying too.

His lip quirks up a bit at the corner. “Yeah, I am. But don’t tell anyone. If they figure out I’m not an idiot, they may ask me to help out more.”

You graciously laugh at his joke.

He likes your laugh. It’s soft, like your skin. He’s tried to not think about it, but he has noticed. He knows you’re going to take good care of the bird carcass he’s tattooing.

When you reached out and told him what you wanted, he knew he couldn’t possibly turn the idea down. He did always have a fucked up sense of humor.

You’ll never know what makes this funny. He can’t do that to you. Maybe you can know Jason the tattoo artist, but you can’t know Red Hood.

Jason looks at you with a softness you miss when you glance away for a minute. “I’ve got a Metamorphosis tattoo over here,” he says, briefly raising the arm holding yours down.

You turn your head, trying to get a look of his Kafka tattoo, and Jason feels a little bit of warmth growing in his chest, even if he desperately wishes he didn’t. He’s getting way ahead of himself like a kid. It’s going to hurt that much more when you realize all the reasons you shouldn’t get involved with him. He shouldn’t be drawing attention to himself. He shouldn’t be getting distracted. This job isn’t for him to make connections with avid readers; he’s here to know what’s happening and when.

For all he knows, you could be a spy, aware of the moves he’s trying to make. Could work for the Penguin. But he’s aware that’s a Bruce level paranoid thought, and he’s not proud to admit that. His ties to Bruce are supposed to be severed forever.

Two hours pass far less painfully than you were expecting. Not in the literal sense, because your arm has started to get sore, but in the sense that you and Jason are finally actually talking, more or less. You take a break, trying to get the blood flow back into your arm from being at an angle for so long.

Your stomach started rumbling half an hour ago, and now you’re scrolling through your phone, chatting with Jason on what you should order. He says by the time food would get here, he’d likely be finished up.

Jason’s already told you he doesn’t do a lot of delivery. He says it’s because things are always fresher at the restaurant.

After the last couple of hours spent talking literature, you know your first impression of him was wrong—there’s a joke about books and their covers somewhere in there—but be that as it may, you still haven’t quite figured him as the sort of guy that’s going to be overly snobby about food.

He says he cooks, and you believe him, more because you like to indulge in the thought of him knowing his way around a kitchen. You also just want to believe it for the sake of justifying the crush you feel creeping in every time he shifts your arm.

You’re not going to hold your breath hoping he opens up to you, but you can tell he’s someone with a story. Someone with history. And that’s something you can respect, because you’ve got your own past you’d rather not shell out just because your tattoo artist is hot. That doesn’t stop your mind from wandering though, trying to fill in the blanks.

Maybe he did some sort of stint in the military. That’s your first guess, at least. You didn’t get any more information on the tattoos he’d done ‘all over,’ and he doesn’t talk about it anymore, so you can’t really figure out anything more than that. You also consider the fact that it’s Gotham, and shit just happens. It’s not your right to meddle in whatever tragedy this city has doled out for him.

“One of the apprentices orders delivery here a lot,” Jason says, and you roll your eyes.

“That’s not helpful, nor does it answer my question,” you say. “Even if you don’t get things delivered, you still have to know what’s good around here, right? You’re not bringing a little brown bag lunch to work every day.”

“And what if I do?” Jason asks. His voice is low, almost like he’s daring you. The features on his handsome face are serious, but there’s a glimmer in his eyes that hints he’s teasing you. And damn those eyes. You’re thankful he’s been spending the majority of your appointment staring down at your arm, because you’re not sure you’d survive two hours of looking at him, seeing where the thin ring of blue around his iris before it bleeds into vivid green.

You laugh. “Then I’d admire your dedication.”

You think he’s mostly being difficult because you offered to buy him food, a perfectly normal thing to do. But explaining to him that you’ve offered to everyone you’ve gotten a tattoo from doesn’t seem to change his mind. He’s stubborn, that much you can tell.

As you continue to scroll your phone, silence settles between the two of you. The silence doesn’t feel so oppressive this time, not weighted by awkwardness and uncertainty. Now it feels like a surrender. Neither of you bring up the beginning of the appointment. Not how he was late, not the tension that seemed to linger between the two of you, not how convinced you were that he actually hated the fact that you were sitting in his session.

“The fries at Wally’s are the best in Gotham.”

His voice comes from behind you, and you jump, turning over your shoulder quickly. He’s peering over your shoulder, eyes fixed on the screen of your phone. You hadn’t even heard him get up from his stool. Last you’d looked his way, he was sitting across from you.

You spit out a curse. “When did you get back there?” you ask, clutching your chest with overdramatic flair.

“What, you didn’t see me get up?” he asks.

You scoff. “No, I didn’t see you get up. What are you, some kind of fucking ghost?”

And Jason laughs.

At the best of the times, you consider yourself a relatively dignified individual. Maybe it’s a bit of flattery, but regardless, that’s what you’d like to believe. And yet, there’s something so incredibly rare about the sound of Jason’s laughter, something that makes butterflies flutter in your stomach. It’s like hearing something long forgotten. Like catching the song of a bird long thought extinct. This isn’t the playful scoff of laughter like when you’d said maybe Northanger Abbey was your favorite Jane Austen book, and he’d said you seemed more like an Elizabeth Bennett than a Catherine Morland; this seems like something secret. Something reserved.

Even if the sound makes your stomach flip, your foul language hardly seems funny enough to warrant such a laugh. Your silly off-handed joke doesn’t seem worthy of the burst of laughter that bubbles up from his wide chest.

“I think the hunger’s getting to you,” Jason replies finally when the laughter settles. He nudges his head back towards your phone to get back on topic. “Wally’s is good.”

You have to yank yourself from your thoughts and will yourself to nod. “Yeah, okay,” you say, feeling like such a loser for the way a single laugh could knock you off your track so quickly. You go back to scrolling through the menu to give yourself something other than gawk at him. “So fries. What else is good?” you ask, not daring to raise your eyes.

Jason crosses back over to his stool and sits. Your face gets hot as you feel self-consciousness creep up thinking maybe you’d been obvious, worried you’ll scare him off. But before you know it, he’s naming off his favorite things. And yeah, maybe you bought more than you alone could eat, and maybe you got the burger he spent a few minutes gushing about. If he doesn’t want it now, he can save it for later.

But nearly an hour later, you have a whole spread of junk food in Jason’s station and a finished bird skeleton plastic wrapped on your arm. Jason rolls his eyes at your generosity, and you threaten to eat everything you bought all by yourself, but he eats the burger and steals the fries you jokingly told him to keep his hands off of.

“So can I ask why you were so late?” you ask.

You’re toeing your boundaries. Maybe you’re intentionally trying to press your luck. Part of you knows you maybe shouldn’t ask. But you do it anyway.

Jason looks up from his burger, wiping a small smear of ketchup off his lip. “You’re gonna think I’m an asshole.” He smirks when he sees you quirk your eyebrow. He was thirty-five minutes late; of course you already think he’s an asshole. At least he’s a good sport about it. “I was out smoking.”

“Mm,” you say with a mockingly serious nod of your head. “Leaning up against a wall, cigarette in one hand, Mrs. Dalloway in the other. I guess you must be so cool I have to immediately forgive you,” you say sarcastically.

“Shut up.”

You smirk and go back to eating your food, unaware of Jason’s subtle gaze your way now that your attention has been diverted.

Jason’s used to a somewhat infrequent eating schedule, otherwise known as he rolls out of bed half an hour before he’s supposed to be at the shop, which doesn’t give him much time to eat. And by the time he’s done with his shift, he’s usually starved. He tries to eat an hour before kicking anyone’s ass so he doesn’t cramp up, so that involves him cramming whatever leftovers he has in the fridge into his mouth the second he gets back to his apartment. Then, he goes back out to work.

He’s become somewhat of a late night chef, putting together whatever he can make as quickly and easily as possible. The sort of skills he’d picked up when he was all on his own, trying to keep himself fed from whatever was available, doing whatever he could to make the best of a bad situation. Shoplifting butter and pasta, crushing up old Corn Flakes in a bag with a hammer to put on top. It was something his mom had done. Something he didn’t want to give up.

For the past two hours, he’s been hoping you’ll say something stupid, like how cool you think Batman is.Instead, he finds you kind in a way he doesn’t really see that often. You tolerate his shit to a certain point, and you push back when he goes too far.

People are scared of Jason, hood on or not. And they should be. They see his scars, his tattoos, his sheer size, and they cross the street. They turn their eyes as he buys bread at the grocery store. They can see him for what he is. But for some reason, you don’t. At least not now.

He’s mapping out his plan of how to take over the city, and you’re giving him shit for being late to an appointment for a job he only has for information. The fact that he met you is just a blip in the greater scheme of things, and yet that’s going to be what he walks away from today thinking about.

A guy came into the shop earlier. A local dealer. Jason played cool, pretended he didn’t have an idea who the guy was. This lowlife didn’t need to know Jason already knew where he picked up his supplies. He’d asked if the guy had any plans for the day, as if Jason didn’t already know about a shipment coming in late tonight. Jason’s plans for the evening had been clear. All he had to do was get through one more appointment.

Except that appointment had been yours.

The shop is closed now. A few stations away, one of Jason’s coworkers is still working. In the lull as you both eat, the faint buzzing of the needle and music playing from the speakers up front. Even if Jason wouldn’t go so far as to say he’s comfortable with you, there’s something of a surrender in the time you spend together.

You don’t know the things he’s going to do once you leave, and you wouldn’t assume them of him. What are you seeing in him because it’s sure as shit not something he’s ever seen himself.

At some point, Jason knows he’s going to fuck it all up. You’ll probably get ready to leave, and he’ll say something as you walk out the door that will make you question all of this. Make you second guess this good opinion of him you’ve managed to come up with. It’ll be for your own good.

His eyes drift over to your arm, your bicep still wrapped up in plastic. He can still feel the warmth of your skin lingering on his palm.

For so long, he’d been used to the dull cold of the apartment he squatted in, frigid air seeping in through neglected walls. As hard as he tries not to, he remembers arriving at Wayne Manor for the first time. He’d forgotten home could be so warm.

The warmth of your arm felt like that.

Since coming back in Gotham, he’d given plenty of tattoos, touched plenty of arms. Body heat is body heat, except when it’s yours.

“Where do you go from here?” Jason asks, looking up from his burger.

You shrug your shoulders. “Home, probably. Gonna get that good post-tattoo sleep.”

It’s cold out. You’re bundled up in your coat, aware of the tenderness of your arm where the fabric brushes up against the flesh.

You’re walking towards your train stop. The sounds of sirens echo somewhere in the distance. Purple light filters out through the blinds of one of the apartments you pass, loud bass temporarily overpowering the distant wail of emergency vehicles for a moment as you walk by, until it fizzles back out into quiet. As the music fades, you hear the sound of a couple arguing from an apartment somewhere up above you.

Across from the stairs up to the station is a bar, patrons hanging around outside smoking cigarettes and laughing. You can feel a huddle of men watching you as you move, but you don’t glance their way, just make your way up the stairs.

Yellow-tinged lights line the station, a lamp every fifteen feet or so. From what you can see in the beams of light weakly dispersing from the streetlamps, you’re alone. You find a spot under a nice shelter, though nice is relative considering the lingering smell of piss and obscene graffiti on the walls, but it’s not out in the open where anyone stumbling onto the stop will find you.

The light above you flickers sporadically. You wish there was somewhere else you could wait.

Jason hadn’t seemed thrilled that you were going out to wait for the train all on your own, but you assured him, somewhat indignant, you could handle yourself.

“You sat really well,” he’d said, and you couldn’t help but entertain the idea of inviting him along on the train with you, but you were not going to stoop to that level.

The sounds of approaching footsteps reminds you to keep your focus. You can kick your feet about Jason once you get back to your apartment.

Three guys stumble up the stairs. And just your fucking luck, you’re pretty sure they’re the guys from outside the bar. They’re laughing, and their voices carry from the opposite side of the tracks. You hope they’re going northbound, that they’ll have no reason to cross the tracks. You keep your eyes fixed away from them, down the tracks, now feeling even more impatient for the arrival your train, hoping somehow it will turn you invisible.

But their boisterous conversation suddenly turns much quieter.

Your shoulders tense, and as subtly as you can, you try to slip your hand into your bag for your pepper spray. Blindly, you feel around, trying to move as little as possible so as to not draw any more attention to yourself, because you have no doubts you’re the reason their conversation has become so hushed. If this doesn’t end horribly, you’ll have to try to remember to clear out all of the junk you have stashed away.

One of the men laughs, and then their conversation stops all together.

Your fingers curl around the tube of spray in your purse.

Without looking, you know they’re moving towards you now. Their shuffled, stumbling footsteps are growing louder. They’re drunk and not looking for their night to be over just yet. Unfortunately, you just happened to be in their way while they were looking for the next phase of the evening.

“Hey!” one yells.

You don’t acknowledge him. Maybe they’ll be drunk enough to think you genuinely can’t hear them and give up. It’s wishful thinking, but what does that matter?

Now you’re regretting pretending you were so tough for Jason because these guys sure as shit wouldn’t even give you a second glance if you were standing next to him.

They’ve crossed the tracks now, and there’s still no sign of train headlights. Your grip on the pepper spray tightens, not wanting it to slip now that your heart is starting to race.

“Hey! You!”

You don’t look.

One of them grabs your arm and tugs you out from the shelter. You wince at the contact against the fresh tattoo. “We’re talking to you,” he laughs.

You’re about to use your pepper spray when it clatters to the ground.

All three men look down at it.

“What’s this?” the second man says, bending down and picking it up.

But before any of them can say anything else, a figure just outside of the ring of light the four of you are standing under. You can’t make out any details about him besides the sheer size of him.

“Let go of her and walk away while you still can,” he growls. The sound of his voice isn’t quite right. It sounds distorted. Your skin prickles with nerves from the sound of it.

The man who picked up your pepper spray turns it towards the figure, threatening to spray.

The figure just chuckles. It sounds cold, metallic. The sound of a gun cocking follows as the figure steps just into the light. The pepper spray wouldn’t do the man any good.

A man wearing a red helmet walks into sight, gun trained on the man holding my arm, but his grip drops instantaneously as he knocks through his other two friends to run, but the other two follow behind almost immediately.

And that leaves you and the guy in the helmet alone.

Gotham has its fill of guys in mask, and sure, there seems to be a new one popping up all the time, but you don’t know this one.

You look up at him, eyes wide with fright. The second the men are gone, he puts the gun back in one of the holsters on his thick thighs, but that doesn’t change the fact that he has them. You don’t know who this guy is, who he works with, whether he’s any better than that group of men or just more armed.

“You alright?” he asks when you don’t say anything. He has a voice modifier, you realize now, though you piece that together slowly.

After a beat, you nod your head. Your hand curls over your throbbing arm. You don’t like that you can’t see where he’s looking. Just two unblinking white voids where his eyes must be. “Yeah,” you breathe. Your eyes fall on your pepper spray. The man holding it must have dropped it when he ran.

When it’s clear you’re not moving to pick it up, the man bends down and grabs it. He holds out a gloved hand, offering it back to you.

Your trembling hand raises and you take it from him, offering a barely audible thanks as you slip it back into your bag.

He nods.

There’s still no sign of a train, and he’s not moving.

“I can give you a ride someplace. If you want.”

Don’t take rides from strangers. You’d heard it just as much as anyone, and the man standing before you is the definition of a stranger. You can’t even see his face; you have no idea who he is beneath that helmet. The one thing you do know is he has a gun, and he’s built like a fridge.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he adds, but his modulated reassurances don’t ease your concern. He senses your hesitation and takes a step back. “Do you want me to leave?”

A few more seconds pass as you consider the question. What if those guys come back? What if some other group comes along? But is giving your home address to the guy with a gun a better idea? And would him standing beside you as you wait for your train make you feel any safer? Could you so willingly accept he wasn’t going to just wait for the moment your guard is down to do something, just the way this city works?

Finally, you shake your head. Neither decision seems like the right one to make. But he did help you. Now you just have to hope to god he’s not going to take advantage of your vulnerability.

You want to ask if he’s one of Batman’s friends, but you don’t find the words.

Instead, you two fall into a silence. For you, it’s tense. You wonder if he feels the same, or if this is just a regular night for him. He stands near you but keeps his distance, like he’s aware how intimidating he could be.

The train is so late. There must be some hold up. One of Gotham’s usuals causing a delay in public transit. Go fucking figure.

“Are you new?” you ask finally. If the train never comes, you might end up taking him up on his offer for a ride, so you may as well try and figure something out about him. Any sort of indication of if you can trust him or not.

There’s another distorted chuckle, though somehow, this one seems less malicious than earlier when threatened with your pepper spray. “You could say that.”

You have no idea how to respond to that, so you don’t.

Silence settles between you again. You can see the lights of the train in the distance. You’re hoping that nothing happens on the train. All you want is to crash into your bed.

The man in the red helmet stands beside you, not pushing any further to make conversation. He waits with you. As it screeches to a halt in front of you, you turn to thank him, but you notice he’s already gone.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #x reader

131 notes · View notes

copperbadge · 2 days

Text

Still badgering away at The Chicken Salad War and I did not realize how delighted I was going to be by introducing semi-masc nonbinary Jes Deimos to gallant butch Ylias Lazaar. I don't quite know where their subplot is going to go if anywhere but I feel like it may be somewhere awesome.

"Mr. Lazaar," said a familiar voice, and she turned to see LeFevre at her elbow, looking pleased. "A great success for you, I think."

"Seems to have gone all right, yeah," she agreed. "I heard you were going to crash."

"Alas, I could not -- I ended up invited," he said, grinning.

"And you brought guests?"

"Ah, I didn't mean to bring the royal family down on your head so soon," he said, leaning in. "They are terrible gossips; I should have remembered when I told King Theophile that he would likely share the information. Still, His Grace Gerald is pleased you use his oil and His Grace Michaelis enjoyed the matbucha greatly."

"And you? No constructive criticism?" she asked.

"Not tonight. I have never opened a restaurant myself, but I can understand this is your triumph! And in any case they are small quibbles. I will need to dine here more times before I speak," he replied. Someone tapped him on the arm, and he turned, then nodded at the person standing just behind him -- the one who'd been speaking with the old king a moment before. "Mr. Lazaar, may I present Ser Deimos, who came with His Grace. This is Mr. Lazaar, the chef of the hour. She/her," he added with a smile.

Ser Deimos looked amused. "They/them," they said, holding out a hand. "We're honored to be able to attend -- I don't think we realized when Gerald told us he was going that it was your soft open."

"It's my pleasure. Not everyone gets to feed the royal family on their first night," she replied, bowing over their hand. "And you're an ornament to any dining room."

Deimos looked delighted. "Thank you, that's kind of you to say. If I'd known the food was going to be this good I'd have scared up a party. I have a lot of friends in from out of country at the moment."

"Well, we open reservations tomorrow morning -- but for the royal family, I can set aside a table," Ylias replied.

"Don't, just yet," Deimos said, looking around. "I'm thinking more of a party. Could we rent the restaurant?"

"The whole restaurant?" Ylias asked, blinking. Simon looked smug.

"If not, that's fine -- we'll take the offer of a table -- but my son's graduating next week, and we were thinking of a group dinner the night before. Simon here is catering the night of," they added. "It'll be twenty or thirty people, and some of them have been doubtful that Fons-Askaz could live up to New York, foodwise. Yes, I felt the same," they added, catching Ylias's expression. "The only thing Fons-Askaz can't offer that New York can is the pizza, and only because our Eddie hasn't got the time to open a pizza restaurant."

"I hadn't..." Ylias fumbled slightly. "I'm sorry, we have a catering menu but I hadn't arranged any kind of contract for renting the space. It'd need to be a handshake deal and I couldn't quote a fee off the top of my head."

"Of course, I threw this at you with no warning. Here," they said, reaching into their pocket for a wallet and pulling out a card. "Email or phone is fine. If you can send me a proposal by Sunday, I can make a deposit on Monday. I'm comfortable with an informal deal as long as we have terms written out over email. If you don't feel ready, just let me know -- we'll definitely be back regardless."

"I'll be in touch," Ylias managed. Deimos gave her a bow and a smile, and retreated to their table.

[Then, later]

As they left Plate & Press, full of good food and possibly slightly tipsy, Jes leaned against Michaelis's arm and said, "Holy shit."

He gave them an amused look. "Yes, the food was very good. Nice space, too. I can't remember the last time I had such a pleasant evening out."

"Well, yeah, but I meant the chef," they said. He glanced at them, frowning.

"The Lazaar fellow?"

"Lady, I think. Uncertain, actually. Butch, possibly. She/her but Simon called her Mr. Lazaar."

"I noticed her, but I didn't see anything particularly unusual. Why?"

"I love you to bits but you're hopeless," they said. "You really didn't think she was hot?"

"I don't form opinions about sex appeal, generally," he reminded them. "Present company excepted."

"Well, she is hot in a very specific way -- like you, actually, sort of masculine and chivalrous -- and she called me an ornament to her dining room. I may have had a little moment."

He laughed. "Oh dear, am I going to have to fight a chef for your favors?"

"No, it's just nice to know I still got it."

He kissed the side of their head, affectionate. "You're an ornament wherever you go, but I'll make a note to remind you of it more often. Seems she's making a stir -- Simon likes her also, I think. Sometime soon we're going to have to kick Gregory and Eddie out of the residence for an evening, and I think I'll recommend that place for dinner. Gregory loves Tunisian food and I think Eddie would find a lot to interest him."

"You just want to spend a whole evening cuddling babies," Jes said.

"Joan and the twins all require the benefit of my wisdom on a regular basis," he said. There was a wolf-whistle directed at them from somewhere over their heads; some young wag, out on the second-floor balcony of a small hotel, clearly getting an early start on Pride. She waved a pink-and-blue flag in their direction.

"You can't have him!" Jes called.

"I was whistling at you!" the girl called back.

"I'll take him," her friend offered from the chair next to her.

Michaelis chuckled. "Drink some water, young ladies, or you'll be in no condition for the parade this weekend," he called.

"Vodka's sixty percent water!" someone on another balcony shouted, and someone else yelled for everyone to keep it down, and the discussion went on without them.

#shivadhverse

103 notes · View notes

luvlyhyunjin · 1 day

Text

Carousel┃H.HJ SMAU

Fifty-Nine- this happens once every few lifetimes.

(a/n: she's here and she's finally yours. thank you for waiting and enjoy <3)

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“You look pretty hot right now,” you tease, a similar breath of sarcasm colors the tilt of your lips into a smile. A sparkle taking its place right into your gaze that settles on the back of Hyunjin’s figure. Arms crossed on your chest as you learn on the doorframe of your kitchen. He turns to look back at you, your hello kitty headband pushes the strands of his inky hair back, it has your smile growing into an even prettier display of your emotions.

“I’m glad one of us is having fun at least.” He fights the urge to roll his eyes but it is deemed difficult when he ends up doing it anyways.

Resuming the task of scrubbing your dishes clean. It has been on his mind ever since he walked into your apartment last night. Too busy comforting the pain that has settled in your chest and wiping your tears for you he only got to finally do them this morning. Had been awake an hour earlier than you, he took it upon himself to pick up the few scattered clothes of yours. After cooking you a simple breakfast of eggs and toast. He finds himself in front of your kitchen sink, your headband in his hair and your pink dishwashing gloves covering his hands.

“I told you; you don’t have to do them.”

“Yeah? and wait for you to be eaten by a giant parasite that has formed on your mountain of dishes?”

“That’s not gonna happen Hyunjin,” you reply, a soft chuckle of yours that has his chest warming up with affection.

“Better safe than sorry baby.”

You feel warmth courses through your insides at his endearment for you. at his acts for you. It’s overwhelming. almost big enough to cover up the blue that has taken place on your heart. It has your feet following a too familiar route that leads to him. You find a rare comfort in the fact that you don’t need to fight it this time, you don’t need to hold yourself back from longing for him and so you follow, blindly and overtaken by fondness for this man. You wrap your arms around his waist hoping to have this same fondness dripping from your fingertips and into his skin. Hoping to have this buzzing comfort that settled in you just from hugging him to last, for evermore.

Hyunjin stills for no more than a second, the feeling of your alive body against his has his heart picking speed as if he’s running down a track field but he’s not, he doesn’t need to be aching to get to you anymore. He has you. in the amidst of his pain it’s more than a little flicker of succour to have you.

“You okay, princess?” he inquires, and you hum against his neck, placing a soft brush of a kiss there.

“’m okay. Just feeling thankful for you.”

“For me?” There’s a faint joy coloring his tone and you squeeze him tighter.

“Always for you. thank you for taking care of me honey.”

“it’s what I do best.” He grins, turning to wrap his arms around your waist after turning off the running water and taking off his gloves. He places a kiss atop your nose, and you giggle, caught off guard by the unexpected tenderness of his gesture.

“I know you’re sad too. So, the fact that you still took care of me despite everything means a lot to me.” one of your hands curls in his dark hair, doused in comfort.

“Having you next to me is enough for my sadness to vanish.”

When your eyes lock you stop thinking entirely, you forget the ache in your chest and instead you’re losing yourself in him. his gaze never wavering from yours and it has your heart hammering against your chest. As if falling in love for the first time you wonder how is it possible. For the world to still and stop spinning just to glance at the sparkles in his eyes. it should feel unfair for him to exist right at same time as you. or were you simply lucky enough to be here? Right between his embrace and his loving fingers that trace over your brows, under your eyes and atop your cupid bow.

“Having you next to me is enough comfort for my aching heart. You numb my pain.” Your mind almost laughs mockingly at you, at the way he manages to steal your words before you even utter them.

A different ache nestles itself upon you, in a differently painful way. It’s the way it is for him. A dalliance of your desires against his cheekbones has him closing his eyes and you lean in. with unsaid want etched on your lips when you place them on his. You hope to set free all the trapped words in you, you hope they reach him, and you hope they are meticulously engraved onto his heart. The same way his words are engraved onto yours. You hope for his heart to keep answering yours in the same way it does now.

Your moment is interrupted by the sound of your doorbell ringing. You and Hyunjin share a confused look “were you expecting anyone?” he asks, untangling himself from you and heads for the door. You shake your head, following close by.

Both of you blink in surprise when you’re welcomed by the sight of Felix, Wooyoung and Yeji right outside of your door. Bags of what seem to be junk food in their hands.

“Surprise!” Wooyoung speaks first with an overly loud whistle.

“I thought I told you we’re not doing the whistle thing, woo.” Felix sighs rubbing the space between his eyebrows.

“Fuck you, you don’t control me.” Wooyoung retorts and you can’t help the amused giggle you let out.

“What are you guys doing here?” Hyunjin asks with a raised brow.

“We thought we all need a little cheering up so we’re here.” Wooyoung declares, walking past you and Felix follows with an eyeroll. When it’s just Yeji, she lingers by the door. Fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

“I hope you don’t mind that I’m here too?”

“Oh! Not at all. Please come in.” you reply with a forced tilt of your lips, peeking over your awkwardness.

And that’s how your night passes by, almost in a blur with happiness and laughter. It all started with you five watching movies and somehow ended with you singing karaoke songs. Empty bottles of beer and bags of chips circle you in the living room. Your sadness is momentarily forgotten in between the funny stories Felix spills and the awful acting of Wooyoung as he tells you about his favorite scene from harry potter. It all ends with Hyunjin leaving to buy cigarettes, Wooyoung and Felix dozing off on your couch and you’re in your room grabbing blankets for them. It’s when Yeji finds you. An awkward smile on her face as she knocks on your open door to capture your attention.

“Just wanted to tell you I’ll be leaving. It’s gotten late.” She says and you pauses with pillows between your arms. The same awkwardness crawls onto your features.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna stay over as well?”

“Oh I don’t wanna intrude.”

“You’re not. I’m sure Hyunjin would appreciate you staying as well.” You reassure with a smile that she returns almost right away.

“I am too lazy to drive back home honestly.” She goes to silently take the blankets from between your arms and you throw her a thankful nod.

“I’m sorry about the whole Yuna thing. It’s still so crazy that it was her all along.” She speaks again when you have walked into your bathroom to rummage in your cabinet for a spare toothbrush. A twinge of pain strikes at your heart at the mention of her name, and you barely manage to hold yourself together.

“It’s okay.” You say, barely audible enough. Followed by you clearing your throat. You force a smile when you face her “part of me thinks it’s karma for what I did to you.” you attempt to joke, a strained chuckle and yet it comes out dry.

It hangs in the air when Yeji’s eyes soften in something so akin to pity you wish to shrink into.

“I’d be really sad if that was the case.” She replies with raw honesty that has you looking away, scratching at your elbow awkwardly.

“Why? You don’t think I deserve it?”

Yeji is silent for a few seconds; it ticks by slowly and you feel it weigh down on your heart. Adding even bigger weights of despondency on your shoulders and you’re weak, broken down so easily it’s the only real thing in this fable existence of you.

“I don’t know how to answer that, but I do know I never want you to suffer because of me.”

When you look at her, she smiles, raw and candid. Pushing you into a corner with how honest she is. You don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who displays their emotions so shamelessly that you once again find yourself growing jealous. Yearning to be someone that isn’t anywhere close to you.

“You’re so kind.” The words escape you before you can stop them, Yeji’s eyes widen slightly with surprise and you nervously chuckle “I just wonder how you are this kind.” You push past her, walking back into your room to grab a different pillow for her this time and she follows blunderingly “I guess I wish I was more like you that’s why it amazes me every time.” You continue, a faux lightness laces your voice.

Yeji’s hands are on yours, halting your movement to capture your wandering attention and you yield to it. Your eyes flit between hers and her hand.

“Why do you think you’re not kind?”

“I don’t think someone kind would do what I did to you.” you whisper, your voice breaks at the end and despite your promises to forgive yourself, you find yourself drowning in similar hatred instead. The same black eyes that stare at you in the mirror are constantly haunting you. reminding you of how awful you are to even be breathing.

“There is some truth to that, but you can learn to be kinder every day. Even kind people can make mistakes.” She says, and something about her tone indicates that she isn’t saying this just to comfort you. but it is like a known fact that she delivers to you instead. You welcome it pathetically, wishing to at least be worthy to take it.

Your words betray you, leaving you silent until you’re downstairs and showing her the guestroom. You’re about to leave when you still in your steps. The darkness aids the blush creeping up your neck when you ask.

“How do you do it?” You don’t need to specify what you mean, the smile growing on her face tells you she understands.

“The world has enough hatred as it. I don’t wanna add more to that.” Her words follow you for a few more days, it keeps you awake just a few extra minutes at night like a revolution. You didn’t know you didn’t need to be losing parts of you to be something bigger than your anger.

There’s relief in believing in simpler things, in knowing you also can be freed from the cages of cruelty. That perhaps if you couldn't die completely satisfied with you, you could allow yourself to leave warmed by the thought of who you tried to be. It is to leave with scabs adoring your hands because you tried rather than hideous claws drenched in blood that isn't yours.

Amidst the mess you find yourself in somehow you manage to find relief right by the corner.

“How was it?” Hyunjin asks as soon as you’re out of your therapist’s office. Your reddening nose and the growing puffiness under your eyes are enough evidence for him not wait for your answer.

Instead, he pulls you closer to him. Closing the very small distance between you two, away from the coldness of your blues and into the warmth of his. It envelopes you as his palms cup your heated cheeks. A soft empathy colors his eyes and he drinks you in, fliting across your beauty that cannot be drowned by a couple of tears. The brush of his thumbs under your eyes has you letting out a shuddering breath.

“I’m sorry. We talked about yuna and I guess everything just hit me again.” You explain, shaky and vulnerable, your ragged breath eludes against each word.

“It’s okay. No need to apologize, angel.” His quieted whispers are akin to still waters, just under the burning sun of summer. It’s profuse in warmth, affable. And you jump right in.

“I feel like a mess.” you mumble, resting your forehead against his shoulder. And his palm is now on your back, rubbing soothing circles on it. The jumbled-up thoughts in your head seem to settle one by one. Falling back into a comforting song that follow the rhythm of his hand. It’s tender and nothing like the windy weather outside.

“It’s okay to be a mess sometimes.”

“I feel like a mess all the time though.”

“Mhm. You know I love taking care of this mess.” he remarks casually. Catching your eyes when you turn to look at him. He smiles at you, a rare innocence clings to his lips, in the light swimming in his eyes and it feels like a raw display of unyielding affection for you.

Rather than a monster who destroys everything it touches, rather than a selfish being who takes, takes and takes. Swallows everything in sight you feel more like a flower that’s coming back to life. Saturated so generously with his feelings. It’s in the way he looks at you, lenient enough to have you melting between his embrace and your ever-growing emotions and intense enough to constantly ensnare your attention.

“What?” he asks with a breathless chuckle when your eyes linger on his. Overtaken by the beauty of you, only amplified by the deepening of your gaze. It’s only ever for him and it’s a trophy he will flaunt proudly.

“I love you.” you tell him, in the busy waiting room and in the amidst of the seemingly endless chatter of the people around you, you tell him.

He feels oxygen flee from his being, leaving him nothing but a mere soul that is yearning for you, unable to do anything but gaze at you. Your eyes take him back to when he was a teenager, pulled together by chaos and a rather immense need to belong somewhere. To someone. And right now, it all falls in place. He’s no longer waiting by the door, no longer cutting edges to maybe catch a flicker of you someday. By contrast he’s here, next to you and entangled with you. You’re mixing with the blood running through his veins. His partiality for you takes over every particle in his body. They morph into fragments of you and Hyunjin never had a choice. From the moment your name had stumbled from your pretty lips into his heart. Taking space, inflating and then it was only you.

He's finally home.

“I love you, always.” he tells you too and you smile.

You leave feeling much lighter, your sadness stolen by the hands of Hyunjin, and you only think about where does he take them when he’s driving in your car and his palm is sprawled on your thigh. Its tenderness courses through your body. Almost has you falling asleep if you didn’t notice the route you’re taking isn’t too familiar.

“Are we not going home?” you ask, your fingers finding realm within the spaces between his.

“I wanna take you somewhere first.” He winks at you, a glint surrounding his piercing eyes and so you only nod.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that he ends up taking you to the beach, yet you’re still overtaken by happiness as if coming home after a long tiresome day. When Hyunjin helps you of the car, his hand on the small of your back and you shiver. Due to frigid air and him being so close to you.

“Babe it’s so cold.” You whine, a pout forming on your lips, and he’s weakened by it. Leaning down to place a peck there. Your gasp hangs in the air and he only smirks at the darkening color of your cheeks.

“Shh, I know I got you.” He takes your hand in his and you bury your burning face in your scarf.

You spend your afternoon there, poorly executed jokes thrown at each other, followed by a recalling of your old high school days then eventually it ends up in a heated discussion because he insists that I didn’t start crushing on you right away! No way I did!. Ending with messy kisses that last a tad too long for it to be deemed pure. setting ablaze your entire body with the fervent touch of his hands. They’re everywhere yet nowhere close enough when they tighten around your hips.

By the time the sun sets you’re breathless with need. Aching for him and in between every shade, pink arises coloring his eyes and swirling with the whispers of love you told to him this morning. They’re almost as pretty as the colors of sunset, if anything is close to compare anyways. The sound of waves almost resembles the beats of your hearts combined. As if they’re happy their favorite couple is back.

“You’re not proposing to me, are you?” you joke when he stills, his hands engulfing yours. He blinks and you almost choke on your own spit.

“Are you?”

“No no,” he shakes his head with a choked laugh “but I kinda wish I was.”

“Don’t say crazy things.”

“I thought we got over the fact that I’m crazy about you.” You go to hit his shoulder with your freed hand, and he holds it before it makes contact with his body. A charming smile adorns his face “Besides, how is it crazy if we’re gonna end up married someday anyways.” When his fingers graze your knuckles, you grow quiet only because you know it’s true.

“Do you remember what you told me last time we were here?”

“I said a lot of shit.” You mumble, the distance between you two growing smaller and smaller and then you’re wrapping your arms around his neck. You’re close enough for him to behold the adoration you hold for him.

“You told me you want to die next to me.”

“I meant it.” You reply immediately. Easily.

“I’ve been thinking about it ever since. I’ve been thinking about everything you ever said to me on this same beach.” His gaze moves languidly across your features “there’s a lot of stuff I want to say to you, but they all feel worthless compared to the way you look at me. I’m afraid of being unfair.” he says earnestly, and you drink every word as if you were on the verge of dying out of thirst.

“Nothing you ever say is worthless to me. please tell me.” he pauses for a minute. His words faltering at the beauty of you.

“I’m so thankful you never gave up on us angel. I’m thankful I got the pleasure to fall in love with every bit of you, it’s always been you. and I always knew it but thank you for reminding me. Thank you for choosing to love the very foolish and stupid kid back then. Thank you for choosing to love me again.” Your vision turns blurry with tears, building overwhelmingly fast alongside the tightening of your throat. It resembles your feelings for him with how quick they come, how stubborn they are with leaving.

“I’d never dreamed of meeting somebody like you, but it is my reality, we’re here. It’s you and I so thank you for helping me find my home.”

Your sobs escape you forcefully, not in pain or sorrow but in a rather unfamiliar gentleness. Unknown to you but it isn’t something you can’t grow accustomed to. You realize the invisible string you felt around your ankle was not holding you back after all. Perhaps it was leading you back to him all along. And if you’ve been asleep for what feels like decades you have finally awaken.

It’s you and I .

“I feel like my soul has loved you since the beginning of time so in my next life I want to be me again just so I can meet you.” he smiles as if you’re anything akin to the light emanating from him. In the way his lips move across your cheeks, kissing your salty tears away. It’s sugary sweet like honey, like peaches and it’s so warm. Almost indistinguishable from your sixteenth summer.

“Thank you for not giving up on me, Hyunjin.” Your voice is soft enough for your words to be stolen away by the wind, however he’s only ever known to be selfish, so he takes them. Saves them in the pockets of his heart. As his lips captures yours, his love spills into you, mixing with yours and you know it too. As if the younger version of you two are watching over you, somewhere in the stars and they’re chanting. Cheering.

Because the story never ended, it was alive all along. In the stars and in the waves. It’s in the water, in the sand beneath your feet and his waters your garden love right back to life. As if not a day has passed with them dead. Just like you, they have been waiting along and just like you their waiting have finally came to an end.

It’s you and I.

Your feelings that you fought against for a long time are no longer mad at you, they’re not blaming you for not getting over the boy who’s blessed with the light of the universe in his smile. You are not too darkened for him. And instead, you’re privileged enough to matter to him. Not to be tucked away between his abandoned clothes but rather a favorite necklace that he wears around his neck.

How kind of the sun to lend its light to the moon, tinged with warmth. Apprehensively there is room for you to shine. It is thanks to him, you exist.

Your desires end up overflowing like an explosion as soon as you’re home. Hyunjin has you against the nearest wall. Lips melting against yours in a kiss that feels too good, too criminal. Like a reminder he tattoos; you were made for each other.

“You sure about this?” he whispers upon your lips, your breath mixing in all too familiar lustful song.

“I want you. please” you answer, your hands trace wordless reassurance across his shirt “make love to me please.” He groans at your choice of words, and you pull him closer into your body. Tilt your head to meet the plushness of his lips falling back into a fever-like kiss.

It is frighteningly easy to have you moaning under him even without all his teasing. He doesn’t have time to spare nor energy to drag this out. As if a need to have nestled in his blood and it takes over. An unbridle want that have you falling into your bed, and he follows. Your clothes lie abandoned on the floor evidence of your arousal. And it all spills into him burying himself inside of you with a strained groan.

“Oh my god,” you throw your head back onto your silk pillow, the length of your neck calls for him and he kisses it, sucking to leave remnants of his peach scent on you.

“Yeah? you like that?” he detaches his lips from your neck, eyes locking onto yours instead and you nod your hand scrambling for purchase in his locks.

“Yes! Yes please don’t stop.”

If this was any other day Hyunjin would still just to watch your tears spill over your cheeks beautifully. However right now his heart is beating way too fast that it feels ferocious. He wants to say he’s strong enough to resist you, that his mind isn’t growing blank with the way you seem to grow wetter the harder his cock dives in you. the way your voice only seems to grow louder and louder akin to a sweet, sweet melody. That his mind is sure to record, it will play it back to him at random times of the day.

“I-I want you more, more.” You mumble, almost incoherent.

He can’t help the smirk taking over his face at how hungry you are for him. How starved you sound when he’s here, right with you and in you. and so he’s setting a new, relentless rhythm, rocking the whole bed with every smack of his hips against yours. His fingers cradle yours lovingly, too virtuous. And then he’s kissing you, etching the same love onto your body, the marks on your neck and your breast are his. You are his and the thought only has you convulsing under him.

“You feel amazing baby. I could fuck this pussy all day.” Profanities tumble from his lips effortlessly, you are clenching around him and it is only encouragement that pushes him to grind against you faster, sweeter “So perfect.” He praises, sealing them with kisses and you could only moan his name. Like a prayer that you didn’t even need to memorize.

“I’m gonna come jin-oh god- I’m gonna come “you whine, your mouth heavy with pants.

“Yeah? come with me baby.” He rasps, fucking into you harder and you grasp at his shoulders with a breathless gasp “wanna feel you all over me.” he spits out mindlessly, his own mind turning fuzzy with pleasure.

“P-please so close.” He lines his lips over yours as he thrusts into you. untangling your hands from his neck and intertwining them with his instead.

You whine into his mouth as he deepens the kiss until your whole body is tingling, it goes taut. Your high approaches like crashing waves washing over you and he follows right behind you. moaning against your lips. his forehead meets yours as his hips rock into you until they’re coming to a stop. Your body shakes in oversensitivity. You’re breathless, dizzy and yet he keeps kissing you as if trying to find purpose in softness of your lips. His mouth opens wider, your tongues meet in the middle.

When he finally pulls back, he’s grinning down at you. There are stars in his eyes when he brushes the strands of your hair away from your forehead and places a tender kiss there instead.

“That was amazing.” He says and you can only hum back. Drained of energy but filled with a gentle affection for him.

“Tired?” he muses, the pad of his thumb wipes lightly at your lower lip and he chuckles at the way your head lolls to the side. Barely able to keep your eyes open.

“Get your dick out of me Hyunjin.” You whisper, shivering when he slightly moves, and you feel it.

“Whatever happened to please don’t stop.” He laughs and you flush like wine splashed across your cheeks. Your hands covering your face and you whine. His laugh only grows, echoing in your room and in your heart. you cannot conjure a response to say and instead you melt against the sheets and atop his chest when he rolls off you and pulls you into him.

The morning after comes with a pleasant feeling swimming across your chest. As days pass by Hyunjin spends more time by your side than anything else. Soon enough little bits of your apartment hold place for fragments of his. His toothbrush mingling next to yours and his clothes imprint their scent on yours. There’s a fervent clinging to your being, it has your heartbeat kicking upwards at the sight of him in your bed. Opening your eyes to his and closing them to his lips on your cheeks. The obstruction of your fears melts away along with the seasons. Running from winter into spring. And it’s nights when he’s in your kitchen, cooking dinner for you and you linger by the door.

Not because you’re unwelcome and not because you’re waiting for a glimpse of him. Not anymore. There’s no desperation clinging to your eyelashes when he looks back at you and instead there is only ever one feeling. Love. Strong, and more than anything hopeful.

Big enough to know that sometimes believing isn’t what you need. In between the folds of destiny, a game fate had started you believed you were deemed to lose. It carved a gaping hole right where your heart is, and you believed there was no way for this scar to close. You wish you could go back and recount the tale of you to your older yourself. You would tell her how your beliefs have withered away only with the touch of a boy. You’ll tell her all about the boy with the sun in his smile and how he helped flowers grow in the void in your chest. Little by little it closes, rewriting your beliefs into newer ones and they bloom into an even bigger specks of hope.

it’s in the way he shows you one other night his sketchbook, papers upon papers filled with pieces of you till they're completely you. He tells you about each one like they happened yesterday. As if your face was everything he was able to remember. It’s the same way that both of you admit that you still kept your bracelets all those years. Tucked away into safety just like you kept your feelings.

It’s in the light of the moon sneaking in through the window and in the smile, he sends your way when you tell him;

“I love you.”

“I love you, always.” He tells you back, a promise that shall never die and instead it lives on and on. Just like how you’re sure the waves of the ocean will tell your story someday, how the stars have always been witnesses of the day your heart was stolen away. It is these moments that have you growing into beliefs he whispered to you one night.

It’s you and I.

You know it now; this happens once every few lifetimes.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Previous | Next

Masterlist

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Taglist: @annybah @christopherisfoive @kkamismom12 @nujeskz @realrintaro

@wolfietara @luvvvash @pnkcasket @shyshyshytwice @samhomo

@babrieeeee @nhyunn @lilliansreality @enzstr @feelikecinderella

@linocvp1d @itgirlalisaa @arikazu @hyundumpling @cupkiki

@avokralaim @super-btstrash-posts @mellhwang @kaiyaba

@finnbbl @rockyhedgehog @heyhaez @amarecerasus @anjian03

@jihanniee @skvrze @enzos-shit @certified-lana-del-rey-lover @chartrucewhore

@skz1lov @dreamerwasfound @lixie-phoria @sillygoosegoose

@20crowsinahoodie @siriusly1 @iheartchaes @hyunjinhwang-23

144 notes · View notes