#1) to highlight how out of place he feels and
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to-skit-or-not-to-skit · 2 years ago
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nightheart
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and a blurb
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youngpettyqueen · 10 months ago
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very very good bit that I think should be on this blog
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deadsetobsessions · 9 months ago
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 7
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]
“I’m having a child.”
Danny stared at Batman.
“…Uh, congrats?”
Batman whips out a stack of paper and a pen. “It’s you. Sign here and initial the highlighted spots.”
Danny instinctively, from years of dealing with Vlad, whacked the stack right out of Batman’s hands and into the bay. He doesn’t even feel bad about littering this time because, “Begone, fruitloop!”
Wait, no, that’s not what he meant.
“I mean- I have parents!”
“Not for long.” Batman muttered and then did a double take. “You have parents? How?”
Danny gasped, placing a hand on his chest to clutch his metaphorical pearls. He ignored Batman’s mutters. Everyone knows the vigilante has an adoption problem. At least, everyone who lived in Gotham did, as everyone who didn’t was somehow convinced that he “worked alone” or some bullshit like that. “Are you naturally this insensitive or were you dropped on your head as a baby? Obviously I had to come from somewhere.”
“They’re still… alive?”
“And kicking,” Danny said, inching away from yet another rich weird guy trying to adopt him. “Mostly the kicking part, though.” He said, remembering the sparring sessions. His mom could kick his as six ways to Sunday with nothing but jiu-jitsu and still have time to work in the lab.
“I see.”
“I’m charging you extra for the emotional upheaval. I have trauma regarding rich people trying to adopt me.”
Batman sullenly handed over a thousand.
“Sweet. There’s a group of shades down here asking if you could find their murderer. Apparently the serial killer is still at large.” Danny pointed.
“Of course. Tell me everything.”
The adoption papers disappeared as Batman went into detective mode.
Danny shoved the cash into his glowing chest and breathed a sigh of relief. He needed to make rent this month so it was a windfall running into Batman.
——
“Hey, Tim?”
Tim woke up from his Power Nap. “Huh?”
“Phantom’s complaining that Batman kept trying to adopt him.”
Tim blinked. “Uh.. what does that have to do with me?”
Danny stared at him, a patiently amused smile on his face. “Just in case the rumor about the Wayne’s sugar-daddy-into the Bats was a thing. Other than that, we might have to confront Batman to get him off of Phantom’s back. ”
“You… want to confront Batman.”
“Hey, man, Phantom’s a friend and it’s ride or die.” Danny snickered. It was literally die, with his Phantom side of things. He held two fists up, and wound them, like Popeye right after eating spinach or something. “And if Batman bothers Phantom, we ride at dawn.”
“Batman doesn’t come out unless it’s dark, though? Or for the Justice League.” Tim grinned. He mentally classified Danny under his “to go to” list. That’s where Bart, Bernard, Cassie, Kon, and Garfield were. If he starts shit, he could count on them to have his back and cause even more shit. Danny, wanting to fistfight Bruce over the man making Phantom uncomfortable? He absolutely is making that list.
“Then we ride at, like, dusk. Or uh, like 10PM. I gotta get my beauty sleep.”
“You’ll definitely need it,” Tim inconspicuously texted the group chat, which quickly blew up.
“Shut up,” Danny playfully shoved Tim. “Wait, can Batman even legally adopt? Isn’t being a vigilante illegal? And how can he adopt someone dead?”
Tim dramatically flailed and splayed over Danny’s carpeted living room. “Dunno about his identity,” he lied to Danny, like a liar. “But Gotham has a bunch of laws for the undead/restored to life people so there’s probably enough gray space there.”
Danny spluttered. “You guys have undead friendly laws?”
“Yeah, geht do you think Grundy just chills out? Plus, we have like a minor resurrection event every few years. It usually doesn’t stick but sometimes it does. Bruce pushed for those laws when Jason came back to life, except he doesn’t actually want people to know he’s like, alive.”
“Jason died?” Danny blinked. Well, that would explain the vibes. “Huh. So what’s up with his rank vibes then?”
“Rank vibes?” Tim pressed record on his phone.
Danny nodded. “Yeah, you know how Phantom’s got like a really chill green vibe?” Inwardly, Danny snickered at his pun. Chill. Yeah, he meant that very literally. “Jason’s got kind of a rank green vibe. He’s kind of stinky? Definitely never introduce him to Phantom.” Danny’s senses got worse in his ghost form.
“Jason regularly showers, though?!”
“Not smell! Like, a spiritual smell?”
“You can smell souls?!” Tim sat up. “Bro, you’re a meta?!”
“Uh.” Danny hesitated. “Yeah. I can smell souls. It’s a thing. Everyone from my town can do it.”
“What?!” Tim paused. “Wait, can Phantom smell souls?”
“Yeah. We’re, uh, from the same town.”
“Danny, what the fuck?”
“Hey, don’t look at me like that, you’re the one with a soul-sick brother! Not to mention, you’re kinda stinky too!”
“Hey!”
“Soul-stinky nerd man!”
——
“I stink?!” Jason spluttered out, extremely offended.
“The Lazarus pits. He’s most likely smelling traces of Lazarus pit on you, you imbecile.”
“We need to speak to Phantom. This instant.”
“I dunno, B. Danny sounded like he was gonna break your face if you bothered Phantom anymore.” Dick snickered.
“Yeah,” Tim chimed in, from his seat in front of the Bat-computer. “He was pretty serious.”
“Are we just gonna glaze over the fact that they’re from the same town?!” Stephanie exclaimed, practicing her moves on a training dummy.
“How does that even work? What does that mean? I thought Phantom was an immortal?” Duke asked.
“We also can’t rule out time-travel.” Barbara slammed her baton into a training dummy, twisting her wheelchair in an agile maneuver that left the dummy on the floor.
“No bothering Phantom.” Cass proclaimed.
“That’s quite right. You all have a warm dinner sitting above your cave and should it remain uneaten, I assure you that sherbet Sunday and crêpe Tuesday shall be canceled.” Alfred stepped in. The Bats, threatened, scrambled to ditch their gear and go upstairs.
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ilylovelyz · 8 months ago
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⍣ ೋ after the break up (prt 2)
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˚ · . kenma kozume, iwaizumi hajime, tsukishima kei, ushijima wakatoshi & atsumu miya (prt 1.)
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KENMA KOZUME — he feels really stupid. kenma does a lot after the breakup in order to distract himself. he buys more games, staying up until it's almost dawn. all of his attention goes into his video games and other devices that he completely stops taking care of himself subconsciously. it's only when he's lost almost 10 pounds is when he realizes how neglected he's become. it happened so fast it confuses him. why didn't you remind him to eat? or shower? oh.. right, it's because you broke up with him in the first place. still, he tries to forget. it's one night playing a game when he's dissociating randomly thinking about you does it all hit.
Super Mario Bro's plays in the background of his room. for once, his fingers are still but his eyes are locked on the pixilated screen in front of him. his eyes are red and dialted due to the bright screen contrasting to the dark dead of night. this game was very expensive, vintage and one of a kind—yet he's subconsciously stuck thinking about you.
did you know he thought about you so frequently? did you think the same of him? he drops the console, fishing his phone out from below him. his fingers tap on the keyboard, searching up your name into his contacts. he notices the last time you texted him was over a month ago. oh–, right. you broke up with him. right. kenma drops his phone back down, laying his face down into the same giant kirby plushie you bought him a long time ago.
a soft sniffle escapes through the thick material, mixing in with the almost taunting upbeat cartoon music.
IWAIZUMI HAJIME — your breakup was done on good terms. he was moving to the U.S., you were staying in Japan. neither of you knew the relationship wouldn't withstand such a long distance relationship so the relationship came to an end. the two of you still call and text over random things, but it's not like how things were before. time passes, and the two of you have less and less contact. iwaizumi is doing his weekly stalking of your Instagram when he realizes you've posted a photo of yourself.. but you aren't alone.
iwaizumi sighs with content when he's finally allowed to sit down, his legs sore from harsh muscle training. as always, he checks his phone. once he's finished going through his messages, ignoring almost everyone except his mom, he comes across your contact. the last you spoke with him was almost a year ago. he frowns, he wishes the two of you kept in contact, but you both were just so busy.
curiously, he indulges in his guilty pleasure and opens up instagram. as if on autopilot, he searches for your online handle. you both follow each other, but of course, never speak. he mindlessly scrolls through your highlights and posts, ending up on your most recent one. it's you. his heart flutters at the sight of you once more. even through a screen, you're still as beautiful as always. you're glowing and radiant as always.
his childish smile soon disappears when he realizes someone has their arm wrapped around you. a guy. a guy who is looking at you with the same loving look iwaizumi would give you long, long, ago. iwaizumi uninstalls the app shortly afterwards.
TSUKISHIMA KEI — he avoids you. he pretends you don't exist altogether. his heart cringes whenever he hears you around, regretting immensely when the two of you arranged your classes together in the previous year. it's childish. no, he's childish. especially because the breakup was more of his fault. still, he hides the fact that his heart is broken. he treats you like everybody else with such hate and bitterness, and only realizes how stupid he's being when it's too late.
"hey kei." you say, walking along aside the tall blonde. "do you want to work on the project together? sensei said that–," "i don't want to work with you." he says coldly. tsukishima doesn't even look to acknowledge you, staring straight forward as he walks. "o-oh, well i just y'know—" you stutter embarrassingly, "i just thought that because—" tsukishima finally stops in his tracks, swiftly turning to you, looking at you through clouded lenses.
"why do you keep on pestering me." his tone leaves you shocked. you can't even think of words to say, only able to let out incoherent stutters and mumbles. "all you do is stutter, it's annoying." tsukishima says nonchalantly, still looking at you with distain.
that seems to shut you up for now. tsukishima is relived when you do, if you talked to him anymore he probably would've accidentally spilled how he missed you. his relief is short lived when he sees the tears roll down your face and out of embarrassment, you quickly walk away from him. he's left standing still, gazing down at the floor. heart heavy and regretting.
USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI — he thinks he's alright but he doesn't realize he's distraught. he continues on with his life like normal, seemingly at peace and happy with whatever he's doing. but, he does have to admit, he's been feeling a bit more.. confused? more like agitated. outside of his calm demeanor to untrained eyes, he seems perfectly normal. but, to those who are close with them, they can see what's actually going on in that seemingly perfect head of his.
hazel eyes watch closely as you walk past. ushijima awaits for you to come up to him like normal, talk to him and pester him with a million questions once more. he hated when you pestered him, he wished you were more quiet and reserved... or did he? he's not sure. because now you are walking away from him, not saying a single word. hell, you barely acknowledge his presence. how do you not? he's everything you said catches your eye, tall and muscular build, with a handsome perfect face.
"y/l/n." he rumbles out. the boom of his voice finally catches your attention, finally spinning around to acknowledge him. you seem defensive, like a cornered cat, a single eyebrow quirking up at his call. "..ushijima-san?" his heart, for some reason, sinks into his gut with the formality use of his name. what happened to toshi? for once, his words are stuck in his throat and he struggles to come up with something to say.
seeing that he's yet to say anything, you hurry out of his presence, trying to be released from the gaze of the man you are forbidden to love. meanwhile, ushijima is realizing for the first time, that maybe he lost someone who he isn't fine with leaving.
MIYA ATSUMU — he's like a pitiful dog. he plays off the break up like it's nothing, even to your face, he just shrugged his shoulders and mumbled something under his breath and walked away. despite the two of you dating for a year, going through so many things together, hell, he even lost his virginity to you, but he still acts like it was nothing.. but everyone can tell it's not. much to his annoyance, even his twin brother tells him to take it easy following the break up. but he's fine. it was nothing. he definitely doesn't search for you in the crowd during his games, nor does he get the random pang of forgetfullness after school as if he should be waiting for you. he's fine.
a girl comes up to atsumu after his game, batting her long eyelashes and pouting her lips. "can i get your number?" she asks, making her voice as smooth as possible. atsumu blinks at her with a blank face before turning his back to her, ignoring her entirely. he ignores her whines and curses of embarrassment, his eyes scanning the emptying crowd.
"shes not here, 'tsumu." he hears a familiar voice say. atsumu snaps his head back to the direction of the voice, seeing osamu standing there with his hands in his pockets, eyes low and unamused. atsumu scoffs at his brother, "yah i know." the two of them wait in silence, but for what? what is he waiting for? suddenly, his ears perk up at a familar body frame, eyes darting to the source only to be severally disappointed with the sight of a person who looks like you, but isn't you.
"let's go home, 'tsumu." osamu says, walking past the blonde haired man. atsumu waits a couple more seconds, taking another quick scan of the crowd before he's hestiantly following his brother, shoulders low and eyes to the ground.
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nerdygirlramblings · 2 months ago
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Off to See the Wizard (2)
previous | next
tw: canon-typical violence
Your introduction didn't cause pandemonium, per se, but your effect on the rest of the team was immediate. Soap sat straight up, his eyes alight like a kid who'd been set loose in a toy store. Kyle's whole demeanor unwound, his smile softening, his eyes going glassy, as if all the tension holding him together was suddenly released. Simon tried to make himself smaller, take up less space, maybe disappear into the cushions of the couch he was on. It was clear they didn't know you were coming, and they seemed as excited - well, all but Simon, who seemed terrified - about it as you were.
Things settled down quickly after that as Price reminded everyone this arrangement was for the sake of their next mission. That took some joy out of the introduction, but the electric thrum of excitement was there. You were finally in the same place as your boys.
Your first full day is rather boring. You are only a little startled to hear voices in the hall at 4:30 but then realize the guys are simply getting ready for their morning training. You also slightly regret picking the room next to the bathroom, despite how helpful it will be when you need to shower while the others are around.
You spend your morning setting up your mobile command center with the tech you brought. You arrange the monitors to match your usual setup, pulling up the background files and current mission data across your screens. You send an encrypted message to Laswell updating her on your status. You know she wants someone she trusts here, and encrypting the email is probably overkill, but you didn't get to where you are by assuming anything about safety. You'd been a black-hat hacker before Laswell scooped you up, so you know it's possible.
When you left, she told you you'd have the same decision-making abilities in the field as she does. You've never had that much power, and you want to show Laswell her trust is justified, so your message is a concern about transports and what you'd like to do instead. You want to get her take on it before simply changing things. In your mind, roping her in on these kinds of decisions now means she'll be less likely to challenge any decisions you make when the boys are in the field.
The highlight of your first day is the knock that comes around 1:00, startling you a bit, just as you're realizing skipping breakfast after such an interrupted schedule the previous day was not a smart idea. The only person you know who knows you're here is John, so you quickly open your door, smile already in place. But you're pleasantly surprised to see Kyle instead.
"Hey doll, Cap said you should come eat." He leans against the doorframe, smiling gently at you. "Looks like you're all set."
"Got everything but the curtain," you reply cheekily.
He grins in response. "We may call ya' Oz, but you're so much better than the man behind the curtain."
You feel the blood rush to your cheeks and duck your head. You aren't behind a screen anymore; you're going to need to be more aware of your reactions to the boys if you don't want them reading you like an open book. "You said something about food," you murmur, shuffling paperwork around on your desk.
"Yea. The Captain was hopin' you'd join us," Kyle replies.
You glance up at him in the doorway. "Do I have a choice?" you ask cheekily. You need to eat, but you can't let them think you're so easily commanded. It sets a bad precedent and is at odds with what they know of you from previous missions.
Kyle's smile slides into a smirk. "He did say I might need to convince you."
You aren't sure what he might try to do to convince you, and your mind immediately jumps to some inappropriate fantasies. You're so flustered you quickly stammer, "No, you don't need to do that." You minimize your open programs, leaving a blank desktop, despite the fact you're the only person with access to this office. You turn to Kyle moments later. "I'm ready."
Kyle steps fully into the hallway, gesturing you to lead the way. You pull the door closed behind you, checking to make sure it locks. "You do remember I got the ten cent tour yesterday and don't really know where much of anything is, right?"
Kyle puts a gentle hand on your lower back, in the same way John did last night, unconsciously. He leads you through base, and you watch other groups of soldiers notice you for the first time. Some openly stare while others watch you on their perifery.
You're not sure what they think of you or if they even know who you are, but you don't like their prying eyes. Kyle doesn't seem to like it either, wrapping his arm more possessively around your waist as he guides you to the mess.
Walking through the door, it's easy to find the rest of the 141. For one thing, Simon is massive. Even seated he's nearly a head taller than most of the other people in the mess. For another, you know of their reputation, but the soldiers here have seen it first-hand and keep a wide berth in the mess. You don't know if the distance is out of fear or respect, but it means your boys have a table to themselves near the back of the room.
John and Simon are facing the door, eyes constantly scanning the room. You don't know if this is how they always are, or if they're looking for Kyle and you. You catch John's eye before turning to the food line, but Kyle steers you towards the others. As you approach, he calls out, "Look who I found? An' she's here without any coercion!" Simon looks at you and away again quickly, what is going on with him? Soap turns around, grin stretching across his face.
"Oz, mah girl, finally get ta see yer pretty face! Where've'ye been heedin'?" He pats the space next to him.
You slip onto the bench. "I've been in my office, Soap. Setting things up so I can support you while you're gone." He seems to deflate a little at the reminder that they'll be leaving soon, leaving you. You try not to read into it.
You turn and look at John, who's now across from you, and Kyle, who took the spot on your other side. You don't fail to notice that though your back is to the room, the two most imposing members of the 141 have their eyes on everything in the room, and you're flanked on either side by some of the youngest ever members of such an elite task force. Consciously or not, they've made sure you're well protected.
"So what do you recommend I get?" you ask, glancing around only to realize no one has anything to eat yet. "Wait, did you all eat already?"
John chuckles. "Nah, Oz. We were tryin-a be polite and wait for ya. 'Sides, Laswell said you'd likely skip meals, so I figured eatin' with ya would make sure yer fed." He stands, as does Kyle and Soap. "Now you sit tight with Ghost while we grab some scoff."
You watch as the others get up, leaving you with a Simon who looks anywhere but at you. You notice he has a plain black balaclava on, and he'd been wearing one yesterday too. You wonder if anyone on base knows what he looks like. You don't know what to say as you sit there in awkward silence. This is so different from your usual dynamic with Simon, it makes you uncomfortable.
Minutes tick slowly by, and you look over at John chatting with some other soldiers, Kyle and Soap with a few trays between them. Across from you, Ghost is still silent. And you finally snap.
"Simon?" You try to keep the hurt from your voice as he finally drags his eyes to yours. "Did I do something wrong or offend you somehow?"
part 1 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8
~~
an: I'm trying to get Soap's accent, and it's hard because it's all in the vowel sounds, which have to be spelled out. Forgive me any glaring issues.
Taglist: @blackhawkfanatic
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megamindsecretlair · 3 months ago
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Make Me Weak, Part 1
Pairing: Sex Therapist!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, mentions of depression, anxiety, and description of sex acts and sexual issues. Power imbalance, Shy!reader. Dark!Terry. Dom!Terry, AU Terry, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some. I'm not a therapist and while I do not make light of therapy, this is purely for my own fun. Please seek real medical attention when necessary.
Summary: Desperately at your absolute limit, you decide to see one last therapist to try and help with your condition. After one session, Dr. Richmond manages to put you at ease, giving you enough tools to start you on your journey. As the exploration continues, your true hope is that you don’t get burned.
Word Count: 4,648k
AO3 Link | Part 2 | Part 3
A/N: Don't judge me for this chile. I saw that beautiful man in a black turtleneck with glasses and lost my marbles. I had TOO much fun writing this and you will not hurt my feelings if you don't want to read this one. However, I must tag to keep my taglist updated. Forgive me, my loves. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.
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You
He came highly recommended. That was the only reason you were here. You’d stared at his pictures and read all of the available posts recommending him but you couldn’t get over the fact that he was so damn pretty. And intimidating. 
But after going through nine different therapists, most who ended up as creeps or couldn’t help you, you were at your wit’s end. It was already embarrassing enough starting over with a brand new therapist, but this had to take the cake. 
The hallway was quiet, with muted browns and reds. Supposedly academic, soothing colors. As if the darker the color, the less likely you were to think about anything sexual. You stared at the imposing brown door with his name embossed on a placard. Dr. Terry Richmond. 
You bit your lip and stared at the slip in your hand with the referral scrawled across it. He took on special cases. Pathetic cases. 
“Fuck this,” you said to yourself. You turned on your heel and stepped down the hallway. The door opened and the man himself looked down the hallway. 
“Are you my two o’clock?” He asked. His deep baritone was unexpected. Soothing. Calming. Unnerving. 
“Uh,” you sighed.
He continued to stare so you continued to stare back. He wore an all black outfit, right down to his black tennis shoes. He wore a long sleeved black T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Black, form fitting pants that only highlighted how tall he was. He had to be 6’1. Hell, possibly 6’3. 
He cleared his throat, looking for an answer. Light refracted off of his frames, temporarily hiding his eyes. You gripped the straps of your purse and squared your shoulders. “Yes,” you said. 
Dr. Richmond nodded his head and waved you inside. You walked behind him, feeling like you were walking to your doom. Inside his office, it was just as drab as outside.
Bookshelves lined the walls, stuffed with medical texts and non-fictional books on powerful Black figures through history. The office was small, but clean, with a golden brown sofa pushed against a solid wall of taupe. He had a painting above the sofa, showing a serene ocean view with a boat out on the water. 
Natural light filtered into the room from a window showcasing the cityscape outside. His office was high up in the building, letting you look down on all the people living their normal lives. 
The door closed behind you and you jumped, whipping around to see Dr. Richmond leaning away from the door. He raised his hands. “I’m sorry, would you like it to remain open?” He asked. 
You shook your head. Closed was preferable. You watched Dr. Richmond take his seat behind a massive desk, everything in a neat stack and in its proper place. He rolled forward and then opened a black folder, picking up a pen.
“Please, have a seat. Tell me about yourself,” he said.
“My thick ass file didn’t give me away? Sorry, I shouldn’t say ass. Sorry,” you said and winced after cussing so much. You pointed to a thick file on his desk and you knew without a doubt that it was yours. 
It was crazy how you had a full record of your insanity, detailing how you started down this deep, dark path. Cataloged every doctor, every note, every nasty thought in your mind. Okay, you were being a little dramatic, but this was just so…embarrassing. And it didn’t help to have someone who looked like that hearing what you had to say. 
“There’s no rules here. You want to say ass, go for it,” he said and shrugged. 
You giggled, feeling more at ease. You nodded and took a seat on the sofa. There was a clear coffee table in front of it that held a zen garden complete with little trees, shiny rocks, and…were those Lego figures? You looked from it to him and he smirked, drawing your attention to his full, lush lips. 
 “Some people find it easier to occupy their hands during discussions. You can give it a try if you want,” he said.
You sat back on the sofa. Maybe later. You felt too awkward as is. Like you were some alien visitor testing out your disguise on the human population. You rubbed your sweaty palms on your leggings and shook your head. “What, uh, did my file say about me?” 
Dr. Richmond shrugged and leaned back in his seat, fixing his thin gold glasses on his face. “Those are words and opinions from other doctors. I’d rather hear what you have to say,” he said and leaned back in his seat.
He was so…disarming in a way that allowed you to release the ironclad control you held on to. You picked at your nails and focused on that, rather than his stormy eyes. “I think I’m broken. And I’m not entirely sure why I’m even entertaining this,” you said. 
“Why are you then?” He prompted.
You shrugged your shoulders. “Tired of feeling like a freak,” you said.
“A freak? Why would you use that term?” He asked. 
You snuck a glance at him. He no longer held the pen. He rested his hands against his stomach, clasped, and just looked at you. Even that was different from all your other therapists combined. 
“Because that’s what it feels like. Like I’m in a freak show. I–,” you stopped and licked your lips. But you were here now. May as well rip the bandaid off. “I can’t cum! And I know, it’s normal. I know plenty of people experience it. I know that women especially have a hard time doing it. But no matter what I fuckin’ try, I just can’t. I feel it coming, I know it’s coming, but then it sort of…goes away? And then I’m sitting there embarrassed that I can’t and when I’m with a partner, they pretend that it’s cool, but then I never hear from them again.” 
You clicked your teeth shut as you realized you were rambling. You picked at a stiff hangnail, tugged at it until it started to hurt. You continued flicking at it, egged on by your awkwardness. And realizing you were being awkward was only making it worse. So you picked. And picked, until the hangnail tore and hurt worse. 
“Why is it important that you cum?” He asked. 
“What?” You asked. You looked at him, expecting to see pity. Disgust. Curiousness. Dr. Richmond held none of those things. His face was a pillar of stoicism, balancing the perfect mix of professionalism and empathy. 
“Why is it so important to you? If you know that it’s normal and plenty of people experience it, shouldn’t the journey matter more than the destination?” He asked. 
Your mouth fell open on a silent gasp as you looked at him. Your mind emptied of every single possible answer to that question. It was important because…it was. Because you never got anything else right either. You were always a step behind, slow on the uptick, feeling like you were taking up too much space in the world even after shrinking yourself to the smallest possible point.
Not easy to do considering your size. You loved your body and wouldn’t trade it for the world, but it wasn’t exactly easy to hide. You were unassuming, sweet, kind, and a great friend. But beneath all of that, you wanted desperately to fit in. This was a basic human release. It was part of the big three things that humans needed. Food, safety, sex. And you could only achieve one of those things.
But how did you word that without sounding like a pathetic kook? You pulled at the hangnail, felt the burn as it ripped, and shrugged your shoulders. Might as well tell the truth. “Because I feel like a freak when I can’t. Like I waited too long. To have sex, to experience life, to explore what I’m into,” you said. 
“Do you think there are goal posts for life?” He asked. He may as well have been a statue for how often he moved. He retained his position, chair turned slightly towards you, as he looked at you like you were a puzzle. 
“Isn’t there? That’s why we call them milestones? Reach your 18th birthday, yay you’re an adult. Find the love of your life, yay you’re married. Pop out some kids, yay, you’re continuing the bloodline. I feel like now, at my age, I should know what one fuckin’ orgasm feels like,” you said. 
“How do you know you haven’t had one already?” He asked.
“I know my body. There’s nothing. There’s the build up, there’s the excitement, there’s everything leading up to it. But I never get over that peak. It just…goes away,” you said. 
Dr. Richmond nodded and turned his attention to the pad. He wrote down a few sentences and it was so quiet in his office, you could hear a clock ticking nearby. You also heard his pen scratch against the paper. He must be using some fancy, fountain pen. He looked the type. 
“What do you hope to achieve through therapy?” He asked. 
You shrugged. “If I knew, you wouldn’t be my tenth therapist,” you said with a heavy sigh. When you first thought about going to therapy, you thought it wasn’t truly for you. There was nothing that really bothered you outside of life’s stress. Everybody had that. 
But you ended up finding some that encouraged you to dig deep and find the woman within. The one comfortable in her skin. Encouraged you to explore your sexuality and think about it in depth. You crawled through so many forums, so many health websites, so many articles that you had a great idea of what ailed you. 
“There has to be a reason you keep trying,” he said. 
You leaned back into the sofa with a huff. “You definitely ask the easy questions. What happened to the intake and whatever?” You asked.
Dr. Richmond chuckled. He tapped his pen against your folder. “You’ve done plenty of that, don’t you think?” 
Your lips twisted with a smile. Okay, maybe you were starting to see why he was so highly recommended. He was comforting without being condescending. Soothing without being smarmy. He treated you like an adult and for the first time, you had a little beacon of hope. 
“I keep trying because I want it. I don’t have the words right now to describe why I want it. I want to know the hype. I want the relief. I want to know what post nut clarity feels like,” you said. 
Dr. Richmond chuckled and you chuckled with him. It sounded funny, but you were so serious. It was exhausting at this point. Pretending like you knew what the fuck you were talking about when others asked you. Your group chat blew up with your equally single friends who were less discerning about who they took to bed.
Every other night, there were stories about dick sizes, oral, and a whole treatise on the lack of finesse these guys had. You almost snorted thinking about your best friend, Brooklyn, and how she said that no wonder men were trapping women in marriages in the past. It was the only way they could get women to be with them. It certainly wasn’t because of their pornographic sexual prowess. 
“What’s been your journey with sex so far?” He asked. 
You took a deep breath and told him all about it. The way that you picked up a book one day with sex in it and never looked back. In a lot of ways, that book probably shaped how you viewed sex and your sexual kinks. Before long, you were searching for more and more books with the exact same tropes. A sexy, semi-asshole alpha male that was too big to be real. 7’8, long dick, and a short attitude. Typically bad boy types with tattoos and “touch her and die” vibes. The kind to only be soft with the female main character.
You could wax poetic about why it appealed to you. Blah blah blah, you had a terrible childhood where you felt invisible. It was all there in the file if he wanted to take a gander. 
“I know I’m submissive, that I want to be dominated in bed. But, whew, the game out here is ridiculous,” you said. “The men I wouldn’t mind submitting to are too damn weak to take control. The men I would never submit to act like I’m their pet already and can speak to me however they want.” 
“Do you think you’re being too picky?” He asked. 
You were startled into a laugh. “What gave me away, Dr. Richmond?” You asked.
Dr. Richmond chuckled. “I have a process, bear with me,” he said. That ain’t all you wanted to do. He was fine as hell. You mentally shook your head. No, you could not go there. Not at all. 
You continued to discuss how you led to certain conclusions. Yes, you were picky. But why shouldn’t you be? You weren’t seeking perfection. You just wanted something normal. Something healthy. Something toe curling, mind numbing, sickeningly disgusting and sweet. Was that too much to ask for? 
Dr. Richmond asked more questions and you relaxed fraction by fraction, getting right to the core of why you were seeking professional help. You told him about some of the partners you had. Some who were sweet and really tried. You had a long term boyfriend at one point who was attentive and caring. But he fell short of making you cum. 
He ate you out long enough to get you wet and going and then jumped straight to sex just so he could cum. You often lied about cumming until it got too exhausting to keep up with. He promptly got mad, hurt that you lied, and possibly embarrassed that he wasn’t God’s gift to sex. His loss. 
It was awkward at first to discuss such intimate details with Dr. Richmond but you often forgot he was even there. Until he asked you to expand on something you said or ask a clarifying question. Even the scratch of his pen faded into the background as you spoke about how you arrived in his office. 
Dr. Richmond finally finished and leaned back in his seat once more, squaring his broad shoulders against the high back of his chair. He crossed his leg and looked at you and you briefly wondered what he’d look like without the glasses. 
“We’re nearing the end of our session but I think I’m getting a clearer picture of why you’re here. After hearing from you and looking through your file, it seems like your perception of what sex really is has been skewed. Either through these books, these movies, or even porn. It’s perfectly okay to consider what you like in bed or what you prefer in a partner. But most people’s foray into their sexual journey starts with themselves. What’s your relationship like with your body?” 
“I love my body,” you said, immediately. Why wouldn’t you love your body? You were gorgeous. Sure, you struggled with your weight, but you didn’t want to be thin anyway. You just wanted to roll out of bed without being out of breath sometimes. Or cut your toenails without having to stop every few minutes for air. 
Dr. Richmond licked his lips and your eyes dropped immediately to it. He rubbed the corner of his mouth with his thumb and it drew your attention to his big hands. Too damn bad you hadn’t met him under better circumstances. You bet he could make you cum. Often.
“What else?” He asked. 
“What else is there?” You asked, clearing your throat, and drawing your attention away from how drop dead gorgeous he was. Your thoughts ran wild still, picturing him in all sorts of nasty scenarios. If nothing else, your imagination was always there to show you a good time. Your own perfect world where you experienced back to back orgasms. 
“What has your personal sexual journey encompassed besides you loving your body? Do you touch yourself?” He asked. 
You fought every urge you had to squeeze your thighs together. How the hell did this man end up in this profession? He missed his calling as a phone sex operator. Or an erotic audio content creator. Good lord, he could have people eating out of the palm of his hand if he so wished. Swimming in a tub full of money earned from hundreds of thousands of horny bitches who could cum to his voice alone. Lucky bitches.
You shrugged. “Of course I touch myself. I can’t cum that way either,” you said. 
Dr. Richmond chuckled. “This only works if you lower them walls you try so hard to hide behind,” he said.
You kissed your teeth and rolled your eyes to the ceiling. The hell did he know. So what if he had fancy doctor diplomas behind his chair. So what if he had a MD in this field. What the hell did he know?
After cursing him out two ways from Sunday in your mind, you deflated. “I know I’m not relaxed when I masterbate. I lock my door, I put on headphones, and I still feel like I’m…”
“Like you’re…?” Dr. Richmond prompted. 
“Being watched? Being judged? You can probably guess I grew up religious. It’s not like I had enough time or space to explore my body. My room was directly next to my parents’. If I so much as sighed too loud, my mom was banging on my wall telling me to fix my attitude,” you admitted. That had been oodles of fun. Growing up, you couldn’t even roll your eyes without someone telling you to fix your face. 
“What does relax you then?” He asked.
“When I find out, I’ll tell you,” you said.
Dr. Richmond smiled, showing off a dazzling, mega-watt movie star smile that made your knees weak. If you weren’t already sitting down, you’d fall flat on your face. 
“I believe I can help you, but you have to be willing to do the work. I need total, focused commitment from you. Do you think you can do that?” He asked.
“Yes,” you said instantly. There wasn’t even a question. You wanted this more than breathing, more than eating. And that was saying something because you would happily drive far and wide for a good meal. 
Dr. Richmond nodded. “Good. I’m giving you homework. I want you to spend the next week exploring your body. Nothing sexual. Spend time in your body and with your body. Touch yourself, but no masterbating. When you shower, acknowledge your body. When you lotion up, pay attention to every mole, every scar. This is the only body you’ll ever have so it’s time to think beyond simple body maintenance. Admire your body. I also want you to keep a journal. You won’t share it with me unless you want to, but this exercise is to get you in tune with your body. Rewire how you perceive sex and sexual completion. Does that sound doable?” 
You nodded, not trusting your voice at the moment. He must not know the effect he had on those around him. He had to be completely clueless. Batshit fucking oblivious. The wreck he was having on your libido was absolutely insane. 
Joking aside, you were taking this seriously. In just one session, Dr. Richmond managed to give you a tiny spark of hope. That maybe you weren’t a lost cause. You immediately tempered your thoughts. Hope hurt. You’d been hopeful so many times in the past, with different therapists, who seemed like they had a plan to help you.
Only for them to diagnose some other problem. You had anxiety, duh. You had depression, shocker. You had a laundry list of diagnoses from doctors and therapists who just thought you were obsessed with sex. That was like saying the sky was blue. Who wasn’t obsessed with sex? Besides asexual people. 
“I’ll do it,” you said.
“Good,” he said. He went over your schedule, working out a time to see him once a week until you would eventually graduate to fewer sessions. That bummed you out. Not seeing his gorgeous face ever again? Could you fake another issue and continue seeing him? 
Dr. Richmond dismissed you and you left his office feeling a smidgen lighter than when you entered. Maybe this would actually work out. Maybe. 
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Terry
Terry finished with his last client of the day and went over his notes, inputting his clearer thoughts into the patient portal on his laptop. When he ran across your file, he paused and opened it once more.
Your case fascinated him. He couldn’t stop pouring over your files, doctor’s notes, direct quotes. There had been plenty of therapists before him, all trying to help the beautiful woman who entered his office earlier in the afternoon. 
He wasn’t immune to his patients. Some were beautiful and charming and all tried to flirt their way into his bed. He never crossed that line. Never. Yet…when you discussed your story, the rawness of it captivated him. He held onto your every word like you were a theater production right before his eyes. 
He hardly took notes because he was so fascinated with the dichotomy of you. On the outside, you were a bit shy. Perhaps too self-aware which led you to shrink, hide who you really were. He got the sense that there was an entire universe wrapped up in your mind and he began asking deeper questions than he ever had on a first session. 
The hour had gone by too fast for his tastes. He wanted to hear more. Learn more. Know more. He hated to admit it, he even got semi-erect as you told your tale. He was understandably disgusted and it wasn’t the first time; occupational hazard. But it was the first time he’d ever cursed his medical degree. 
You were perfect. Absolutely perfect. When you admitted to being submissive, his dick even twitched. Ached. Why couldn’t he have met you somewhere else? Surely, fate hadn’t been so cruel as to put the perfect sub within reach and then ensure that he could never have you? Never touch you? 
Describing your previous lovers actually made his chest boil. You had been subjected to ignorant men who wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you. And they had you believing that you were the problem. It was laughable. It was maddening. It was cruel. 
He frowned at your file. He had gone over it so many times in preparation for the session. He didn’t know what would walk through the door. A file this thick? He thought he’d have a sex-obsessed, delusional fiend on his hands that he’d have to contend with.
Your wish of cumming was almost cute. Terry sighed. He shouldn’t be thinking it was cute. If anything, he should be passing your case off to his colleague down the hall. Dr. Crawford was as capable as Terry was, their ideas often aligning in regards to treatment.
He preferred a holistic approach. Most problems could be resolved within a few months, once people began to shift their idea of sex and their role in it. 
“Everything is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power.” That was one of his favorite quotes, said so many times that no one truly knew where it originated. 
It was a quote he often repeated to his patients at the right moment. When they were beginning to discover a part of themselves previously unexplored. He wondered how long it would take for your moment? That dawning realization. 
He was only sad he couldn’t see it in real time. That moment when you let yourself feel. Let yourself relax and sink into that subspace you so desperately needed. Terry grunted and closed your file. 
He was about to crack you open like an egg and watch a brand new woman emerge. He was about to hand you off to the first man who pretended to understand your needs. He took out his fresh notepad, every patient got one, and scribbled some more notes. He’d have to make sure you understood the difference between a real dom and a little boy playing dress up. 
His eyes scanned across his earlier notes, little things he jotted down while you spoke. Areas you skipped over, areas you expanded on. They were only a sentence or two long, something to kickstart his memory. Because at the time, his eyes were focused on you. On your face, your voice, your mannerisms. 
It was both a curse and a blessing to notice so much. See so much. Understand so much. But it worked when necessary. You deflected about your sexual partners, retreated when he tried to push further about how you reached these conclusions. What methods you tried.
Usually, Terry did a whole song and dance to ease patients into talking about sex. Sex was taboo until it was time to have it. Now everything was awkward, unbalanced, and led to too many instances of abuse. 
But between your file and how skittish but determined you seemed, you didn’t need a song and dance. You needed someone to give you guideposts. You didn’t truly need therapists. You just needed a nudge in the right direction. A nudge to someone else.
Terry pursed his lips and looked at your name on the file. He had to be careful. If he wasn’t, you would end up being trouble in more ways than one. 
He finished up the last of his notes and then scanned through for anything he might have missed. He wrote down what your homework assignment was. He hadn’t truly known where that came from. 
Perhaps it was the look in your eyes. Perhaps it was the helpless, frantic twist to your mouth that had him going from zero to one hundred where you were concerned. But the more he described it, the lower your eyes went. The way your mouth slackened just a bit. As if you were caught in some picture in your mind that he couldn’t see. 
Terry leaned away from his desk and looked outside of his window. The tinted glass showed the sun in the distance, sinking lower towards the horizon. A bird flew, twisting and turning with the hot currents it found. 
He ought to do the right thing. There was no way to remain objective in this manner. Not when he was strangely drawn to you, drawn to your file, and drawn to the unique challenge it presented. 
You could very well end up a case study in some medical textbook or journal, name changed, but the presentation exactly the same. He didn’t relish the thought of being the one to put you there. But your case could end up helping someone else. It was the way the world worked.
He only hoped that he had enough self-restraint to walk away if he found himself compromised. If he couldn’t reign in his personal tastes and habits to help you. If he found himself looking at your lips as you spoke, your smile as you made self-deprecating jokes, or the shy way you licked your lips. 
“Shit.” He took his phone out of his bag and hit up his on again, off again submissive play partner, Tasia. Perhaps it’d been too long since he took care of his own needs. Perhaps what he needed was to release the pent up tension he carried around all the time. 
How long had it been? He didn’t know. But even as he set up the details with Tasia, he couldn’t help wondering if you were following his directions to the letter.
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I said don't judge me! LOL. Thank you for reading, truly.
The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 2 | Part 3
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inkinflux · 1 month ago
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Before the Moment's Gone
Viktor x f!Reader | 2.2k | SFW
After winning the Distinguished Innovators Competition together, Viktor is encouraged to finally act on his feelings for you. A/N: I'm back and I may be rusty but it feels soooo good to write again. I wanted to get something fluffy out before digging into the angst that is inspired by the events of season 2, so have this sweet lil fic as an apology in advance <3 🚫 I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING USED TO TRAIN AI 🚫  
He’d been waiting for a slow song to start. Over the music and chatter he could barely shuffle his scattered thoughts together, and between the dancing bodies and the awkward lack of space to interject his cane, he’d been stranded in an ocean of energy.
A steady undercurrent of a beating drum aided his heart in synchronizing its erratic beating, and with a deep breath, he found the courage to make his way through the crowd. He found Jayce first, the second-place ribbon pinned proudly to his chest.
“Heya V,” a heavy arm settled around his friend’s shoulder, the smell of bourbon as heavy on his tongue, “Congrats again on the big win. Very distinguished of you.”
Viktor smirked, shoving him away, but he couldn’t disguise his delight. It was an improbable task made impossible by the fact that you wore a first-place pin over your heart to mirror his.
“Only half distinguished, you must remember,” he replied, “And a lesser half at that.”
Jayce scanned the crowd. “Where is your better half?” Viktor felt his cheeks heat.
“Jayce,” he hissed, voice low, “Why do you say these things so openly?”
“I’m only calling it like I see it. Oh,” He straightened, sending a wave down the crowded courtyard, “there she is.”
Viktor leaned against his cane as he lifted his chin, trying to catch a glimpse through the shifting bodies.
And there you were, cup to your lips, smiling against the lipstick-stained rim as you engaged in an amusing conversation.
As if sensing his eyes on you, you looked across, catching Viktor’s gaze. Your smile widened, and suddenly you were making your way over without so much as a goodbye to the group that had been entertaining you.
Jayce squeezed Viktor’s shoulder. “Is tonight the night?”
“What do you mean?” Viktor shrugged, an exaggerated pout trying to put off the point.
“You’ve got to tell her how you feel. What better moment than now?”
Viktor felt like he was going to be sick, his heart lurching at the thought.
“I’m sure there will be many better moments, Jayce.”
“How can you be so sure?” He retorted, giving his shoulders an encouraging shake. “It’s not every day you win the Distinguished Innovators Competition, let alone with the woman of your dreams.”
Viktor frowned at Jayce, compelling him to be silent as you approached.
Blue lights slid over your face and chest, highlighting the blue ribbon he’d helped you pin not an hour before. His hands had been shaking, but you had mistaken it for pure excitement at your victory, sharing in the glory with a toothy grin that made his knees weak.
“I cannot.”
“You can,” Jayce urged, shoving a half-drunken cup of brown liquid at him.
Viktor watched it slosh around for a couple seconds before downing it, coughing into his wrist as the alcoholic burn clung to his throat.
“I was just wondering if you had left,” You said by way of greeting, “I’m glad you stuck around. I’d regret not having the opportunity to celebrate our win together.”
Your air of confidence had always tickled him. Even when you had first met, and the chances of mistaking it for arrogance had been high, you somehow always came across as endearing, no matter how much you boasted your own achievements.
And now you shared one. A warming thought, or maybe that was just the alcohol settling in Viktor’s stomach.
“It suits you,” you complimented his No.1 ribbon, playing with its silk edges, your fingers a butterfly touch against his chest.
Viktor cleared his throat. “Thank you for helping me acquire it.”
You glanced up at him, eyes widening as you realized how close you had drifted, promptly taking a step back to return space he hadn’t needed nor cared for. As far as he was concerned, you could take anything from him without so much as a complaint.
The ground vibrated slightly as a blimp passed overhead, cruising at last light, the sun barely casting a sliver of red against the edge of the horizon. The stars had started blinking above, and a slight chill kept the dance floor palatable.
“Looks like you need a refill.”
You slipped your empty cup up, nestling it under his as a way to take it from his hands. You didn’t look back as you set off once more, though he knew you expected him to follow. Jayce gave a thumbs up as he passed.
Pausing at the desks that had been assembled in a line to create an impromptu outdoor bar, you dislodged the two cups. You filled them both with something bright and fizzy, the carbonated bubbles tickling Viktor’s nose as you held it up to his face.
“Rate my concoction.”
He took the cup from you, fingers sliding against yours in a secret dance as he did so. It was the one you’d marked with lipstick, his cheeks warm as he placed his lips over the same spot you’d drunk from.
Viktor took a sip, humming as he gazed into the orange liquid.
“Fruity. Not too sweet. Four out of five.”
You raised a finger to your chin, pondering. “Any notes on how to improve to get that five?”
“Eh, it is nothing against your choice of combination. There are simply better things that exist in their purest form.”
You rolled your eyes, linking your arm in his as you headed in a new direction. “Remind me why you’re a scientist and not a philosopher.”
“The two fields are not so dissimilar. They both seek to answer questions posed by the unknown.”
You peered up at him, in a fashion that thinly veiled your thoughts. With courage, he turned his head to meet your gaze.
Meeting your eyes was like a plug meeting its socket, charged electricity pulled taut. A mechanism that had become locked, kinetic energy blocked and compounding, impatient for its release.
“And what question are you seeking to answer tonight?”
Your tone caught him off guard. Viktor took a sip of the drink, using the excuse to have an extra moment to think. He was nervous to meet your gaze again, as if your eyes would unravel him in their search for a response and stumble upon something he wasn’t yet prepared to share.
With a tense chuckle, Viktor said “My questions have already been answered. Blitzcrank is a fine creation.”
Disappointment touched your eyes for only a split second before warmth flooded them.
“He is, isn’t he?”
The robot still lingered on the stage he was presented on, poking at the other winning inventions. Currently, he was pressing all the buttons on the hextech prototype Jayce had won second place with. You grimaced as one of the buttons bounced off of its spring, popped loose by Blitzcrank’s lack of grace. To the robot’s credit, he immediately went searching for the button that had rolled away in an attempt to remedy the situation.
You settled against the stone railing that bordered the Academy’s gardens, Piltover apartment lights blinking below as the young night settled in comfortably. Viktor liked being away from the crowd, able to look at it all from a detached perspective, a big picture overview on the merriment of the night.
He turned back to you again. “You did not want to dance?”
You shook your head. “I’m not much of a dancer.” You nudged your cup against his. “Not much of a party goer, either.”
“Neither am I,” Viktor agreed, tapping his cane against the stone, “Yet some opportunities present themselves despite established levels of confidence.”
You stared into your cup with a small smile.
“Are you glad we entered the competition,” you waited a beat to add, “together?”
The gravity in that pause was not lost on Viktor.
“Of course.”
You took another sip, then placed your empty cup on the flat stone before stretching your hands against it, leaning over to take in the view. Viktor followed suit, his shoulder brushing against yours as he spun.
You turned your face away, trying to hide the subsequent smile.
“I wouldn’t have wanted to do it with anyone else,” he said.
You playfully shoved your shoulder against his, deliberate touch this time.
“Not even Jayce?”
Viktor shrugged, leaning his cane against the stone. He dropped his cup in yours, letting them slot into place once more.
“Jayce is my professional partner. We’ve worked together for a while now. The patterns of our progress have become… predictable.” Viktor’s warm smile was like an embrace. “Creating with you is self indulgent.” And not only because your shared inventions weren’t necessarily necessary.
Where he and Jayce sought to use hextech to improve the lives of many, the things he created with you served to create an opportunity to spend more time with you. Allowing his feelings to manifest in surges and steel when simple words failed him.
“I am proud, of what we have accomplished.”
His words caressed you.
“Thank you,” you said, turning to him, “for indulging me.”
Viktor tipped his head forward, averting his gaze as he attempted to hide the flush he could feel spread in his cheeks.
“You are easy to indulge.”
The cool stone welcomed you as you pressed your elbow against it, your cheek propped against your palm. Viktor poked the strip of hip that was exposed by the movement.
“I’m certain everyone else finds it as easy as I do.”
You caught his prodding hand and placed it flat against your hip, urging him to commit to the touch.
“I don’t care about everyone else. There’s only one name I share space with on a patent.”
You wore a look of endearment that made emotion swell in his chest. His eyes began to sting as he blinked back a wave of fondness. He denied himself the urge to turn away, confronting the curve in your brow and the blown black of your pupils.
A group passed by your moment of solitude, and Viktor slid closer, his brow knitted in worry that you’d be taken from him. His thumb slid against the curve of your hip bone, his thigh now flush against yours.
He sent a dismissive glance over his shoulder at the onlookers who continued on their way before turning back to you.
The interruption had disturbed your pocket of peace. Viktor pulled away, grabbing for his cane.
“We should get some rest tonight,” he suggested.
You’d both been awake until the early hours of the morning as you put the finishing touches on Blitzcrank. In a hazy state you’d both carved your initials into the bronze metal of the robot’s enormous hand, then fallen asleep together on the lab floor until Blitz had shaken you awake, worried he would miss his grand debut.
“You’re not going to stick around?” You asked, arms pulled around yourself, unsure.
Viktor lifted his hand to press an affectionate touch against your cheek, and you seemed to unravel, your tensed features going soft and your crossed arms dropping, hands settling on his elbows.
Your flesh was pliable beneath his fingertips, and he craved it in a way a desert-dweller craved a swim. His hands were so used to rough sheets of metal, the familiar burn and sting of creation.
Fondness poured out of him like a tap with a broken faucet. It’s all he knew when he looked at you. A look of love he wasn’t sure he knew how to hide. It took you looking at him in the same way, a perfect mirror, to make him understand.
“Indulge me this time, will you?” He requested.
You sucked in a breath as Viktor stooped to press a feather-light kiss to the side of your mouth.
He pulled back, eyes wide, then nodded to himself, glad he had acted. You merely blinked up at him, stunned by his sudden physical admission.
“You call that indulgence?” You asked, somewhat breathless.
“Well…” he planted his hands on the stone behind you, his cane slipping from his grasp and clattering to the floor as he boxed you in. You grasped the sides of his face as he closed in, his open mouth hot as he laid it upon yours.
He kissed with a confidence you hadn’t expected; a confidence you evoked. Rough hands found their way to your hips, and you didn’t at all mind that he had to lean his body against yours in the absence of ample support.
His kiss was greedy, his tongue darting around yours, causing your stomach to flip.
When you finally parted, you were both breathing heavily.
“It seems,” he smiled, kiss-drunk, “my greatest question has been answered.”
You melted into his embrace, your arms wrapping around his neck as he squeezed you tight, the raised fabric of your ribbons pressed flush against each other.
You nestled your face against his neck, stifling a yawn there.
“My distinguished girl,” Viktor whispered against your ear, his voice full of affection as he stroked your back, “are you tired?”
“Not too tired to keep kissing,” you urged, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
Viktor pulled back enough to check your face, taking in your heavy eyelids and sleepy smile.
“Let us retire for the evening.”
“But-“
“But,” he cut you off with a peck, “this moment must give way to more. More moments we can share, together.”
You nodded, your body pleasantly encumbered by the promise that a warm bed and more of Viktor’s kisses awaited.
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mingisaddctn · 1 year ago
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mind over matter | s.mg
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Pairing: best friend!mingi x reader Genre: [+18] smut w/o plot Warnings: jussss smut, enjoy a/n: first fic on this blog yay
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the two things you can be sure in life is that 1. you will die and 2. you've never wanted to suck a dick so bad.
I mean, you always knew that your best friend was hot — you had eyes, for god's sake! — but holy shit.
it started when you ran out of cat food. you were an attentive cat owner, don't get me wrong, but at the same time, you had the worst week for your mental state. exams after exams, studying 'till the library basically had to kick you out and group projects with lazy people... so that's how it ended up with your cat screaming at the top of their lungs and waking you up from your power nap.
mingi happened to be around because, guess what, you also forgot about your plans to watch that new anime that he rambled all about for the past month, and truly, you wanted to be able to enjoy some quality time with him, but you fell asleep as quick as his cursor pressed play on the screen, the warmth that irradiated from both inside his hoodie that you were wearing to where your head laid on his shoulder was too cozy.
so when you got up to feed the cat, your heart dropped, and you saw the grocery list accumulating dust on top of the counter, the 'cat food' underlined three times. you looked outside the windows of your small apartment and saw that the simple drizzle from before now turned into a full on storm, and all you could do was lean onto the counter and bawl your eyes out.
mingi was startled but tried to comfort you somehow, not really sure of what he could do to help, and as you tried to tell him between hiccups and tears, he quickly grabbed his jacket and told you that he would be right back.
twenty minutes later, a full-on drenched mingi stood on the doorstep, chest heaving as he took off his shoes and the same jacket, now in a darker tone from the wetness. you stared back from your couch, as you were curled into the throw blankets, eyes widened.
you almost forgot about the cat food.
in your defense, it should be illegal the way his white tee clung to his abs so sinfully highlighting each of his muscles. and when he rose his arms to take off his cap and ran his fingers between wet strands of hair that framed his cheekbones, your eyes fixated on the way his sweats clung onto dear life to his v-line.
holy fuck. jesus christ. oh my god. whatever divinity that was out there.
"you okay?" he asked, as if he was expecting your answer and you shook your head, trying to escape the trance you found yourself in.
"what? why?"
"i asked if i could use your shower" he placed the single bag with the cat food on the counter as he tried not to wet your floor.
you can use me, for sure; you thought to yourself.
"yeah, yeah, go ahead" you nodded and he took his shirt off on the way to the bathroom.
you quickly jumped from the couch to feed the cat — since that was the prime reason for all the ruckus. as you put the blocks of minced meat on the food bowl, you caught yourself fantasizing about it again.
how good he should be looking, as droplets of rain still lingered on his skin as he took of the sweatpants slowly, leaving only the boxers that perfectly held his firm thighs and secured his—
meow, you looked down, to find that a block of meat fell beside the bowl and you took a deep breath. control yourself.
you blamed the ovulation. or maybe the fact that you haven't been sexually active in a while. or that movie that had hot scenes with your favorite actor... gosh you were a horny mess.
but your life has basically been all about your studies lately, and the stress was clouding your reasoning, making you feel like impulsive decisions were now worth a lot, and that's how you found yourself standing outside your bathroom door, idly looking at it with your hand raised, on the way to give it a knock.
the thing is, the moment you found the courage to do it, the door opened from the inside, and only mingi's torso popped out, in the middle of calling your name, but now confused that you were on the other side.
all that led to the both of you sitting on the edge of your bed, with him only wearing a towel around his hips, not staring at each other as the silence overcame the storm from outside.
"so... you want to suck my dick...?" he simply repeated your words from minutes ago.
it would be comical if it wasn't so tragic.
"yes."
"are you feeling okay?" he asked.
"yes."
"'then... how should we do it?"
you took another sharp breath, your lungs almost failing you as your mind tried to disassociate from your body. leaving the bed to kneel in front of him, you kept your eyes focused on his face, his lips parted as his eyes were half-lidded. from all the years you'd known him, you knew that he was probably overthinking it and trying to figure out what was happening. but neither you could tell.
your fingers slid to the towel and as you were going to take it off, his hand flew to yours, holding it softly. he pulled you towards him in a swift movement and placed his palm on your cheek, nose now brushing against yours. soon after, you felt the plumpness of his lips onto yours.
"wait" he leaned back cautiously, as though any minor movement would startle you like a scared kitten. his eyes overthinking each and every detail. "I want to kiss you first."
and as if you were waiting for that to snap, you grabbed his neck and pulled his face lower so you could slide your tongue into his mouth. his big hands fell to your hips and grabbed firmly, decided not to let you run away.
you kinda wondered before how good of a kisser mingi was, your friends joked around saying that it must be good since he has fat lips, but you usually kept those thoughts at bay, not really wanting to dive into your hidden desires. it wasn't like you, to explore and try new things. you became friends a long time ago, and when he earned that title, you felt like it would be too messy to see him as anything else.
but you weren't dumb, of course you'd noticed how a blush crept to his cheeks whenever you grabbed one of his hoodies, or how he would stutter when others teased him about you. he wasn't good at hiding things, and you weren't good at ignoring them.
one of his hands snuck to your neck and the pulled you closer, his breathing growing heavier to the point that you could hear a faint groan from his throat.
shit, you moaned.
he let go of your face and you leaned back, a little ashamed of the noise that escaped you, but mingi didn't seem to mind, in fact, his cheeks could be mistaken to a tomato. he shifted in his place and you noticed the tent in his pants. oh.
placing a final kiss on his cheek, you maintained eye contact as you lowered yourself to your knees, hands falling to his covered member, feeling the warmth through the towel and earning a sharp gasp from him. licking your lips, you only broke the intense stare to undo the lousy knot, uncovering his lower body.
oh. OH.
how did he hide that monstrous thing all along?
"uh... pants, I guess..." he said almost in a whisper, and then you realized that you were thinking out loud.
"shit, I mean, it's not a bad thing" you placed your hand at the base of his cock, wrapping your palm around it and the boy hissed. "I just... didn't expect that."
"so you thought about it before?" touché. you deflected by giving him a slow tug.
before he could say anything else, you lowered your head and wrapped your lips around him.
"fffuck-" he let out, throwing his head back.
you started bobbing your head at a slower pace, quickening each time he groaned, and listened to his raspy moans as if they were songs hidden in heaven. his hand ran through your hair, pulling at the strands just light enough to make you whine, the vibrations helping into the pleasure.
"please—" he pled, eyes fixated on you and wet hair sticking to his face. he couldn't look any better, you noted.
mingi stared right into your soul with deep, dark eyes. his nose was flaring up and trying to keep up with the sharp breaths that left his parted mouth. it was as if he belonged in that position, and you wished that you had midas touch to keep him like that forever.
"so pretty" you said more to yourself than to him, and one of your fingers snuck into his mouth, and he wrapped those plump lips around it to suck.
feeling his tongue under your skin made shivers run down your spine, and even though you tried to take in more, he pulled you towards him once more, now landing you onto his lap. mind you, his naked lap. your pajama shorts did nothing to the mixture of pre-cum and saliva that rubbed under fabric. you hoped he couldn't feel the wetness that was forming between your legs.
kissing you again, you wondered how your teeth were not clashing at all from the desperation that exuded from both parts. you wanted him as much as he ever had wanted you, and it didn't seem like a real experience. the euphoria that overtook you made you feel almost dizzy from all the exchange in pheromones and fluids, holy fuck, you wanted to stay like that forever.
while he kissed you, mingi's hand went to the bottom of your shorts, holding you so you wouldn't fall as he took them off, leaving you in his hoodie and panties. you didn't remember what kind of underwear you wore, but you hoped to whatever god that was out there that it was something without a hole or anything.
without taking the panties off, he slid them to the side and ran both his middle and ring fingers along your folds, the new feeling making you jump a little, and he giggled. the motherfucker giggled.
"jeez... can't wait to be inside you" he said against your lips, hissing as you gave him an experimental roll of your hips.
holding your panties to the side, he grabbed his cock and aligned himself to your folds, placing the tip inside and a loud whimper fell from your mouth. you knew that it would take more effort to get him inside, he was the biggest you've ever been with, and mingi also seemed to notice that, so he touched you as if you were made of glass.
the warmth of his hot member now sheathing inside your pussy felt like too much, and the room felt foggy, just as your breaths. he kissed the side of your neck, licking up to your ear and groaning ever so slightly, as if he had noticed how much you reacted to those sounds, using them now against you.
the moment you reached the bottom, you felt as if your internal organs would combust. his dick felt like too much and too good, you drank from the sensations and the tingles that your body left each time he moved an inch, clenching around him. you reached your hands to the hem of the hoodie you were wearing, but his hand left your lower back to stop yours.
"leave it on" he looked up at your face with puppy eyes. "I want to fuck you in my clothes."
OH. FUCK.
you moaned into his mouth and slowly started to move your hips. you could've cum just from his words, but you tried your best to concentrate in making him feel good.
"you feel so good around me" he whined, a short moan leaving his lips to meet yours again.
you didn't know how you looked at that moment, probably a mess. from taking in all the sensations, his huge cock and the way he looked like a whiny mess under you... you felt powerful, and he was letting you use him to your wishes.
"please, please" he whined even more, probably taking notes that you got off from that.
"what is it, big boy?" as soon as the words fell from your mouth, you questioned yourself. is this really me?
"let me fuck you right" his hips shot up, taking you by surprise with a gasp and he bit your collarbone. "I wanna be good for you- wanna make you feel good."
"use me however you want" you said in a desperate tone. not even minding how it looked to him, you truly wanted everything from him.
with one arm sneaking around your back and the other on your neck, he moved you further into the bed, now on top of you. he didn't say anything else, only left a small kiss on the corner of your mouth and gave you a slow thrust.
the most high pitched moan fell from your lips, and you didn't care to be embarrassed. not when he was pleading for you, having your body wrapped so deliciously around him, the same as his.
you could write paragraphs and paragraphs about the way he looked; the occasional lightnings shining against his wet skin, highlighting each of his curves and muscles while his hair fell above his forehead, now a mess from the way you rushed your fingers between strands.
mingi kept rolling his hips against yours, and words kept falling randomly from your mouth, meddling with moans and sobs, you felt so cockdrunk that even the slightest stimulation coming from him could make you shed tears. felt so fucking good that got you questioning every life choice you've ever made to this point, as if everything was a part of god's plan for you to end up right under your best friend, as his touches made love to your limbs.
"hm-ugh- feels so fucking- oh my god" you kept going on and on, not even sure yourself what you were saying, but mingi wasn't falling behind.
the knot had already taken place on your lower body, each of his thrusts feeling more intense than the other. you could tell he was getting closer from the way his teeth were nipping on your neck and his thrust were growing sloppier.
"please-ah!-please, let me cum inside you" he left your neck to look at you, and you felt the knot tightening and your legs starting to tremble. "let me fill you nice and full- please"
"yes, I want all of you" you almost screamed when he took that as confirmation to grab your back and glue his chest to yours, sharpening his thrusts.
it finally snapped and you felt like you couldn't breathe anymore. he held you so close as if he could melt into your skin and become one, and with a final thrust, he whined and groaned and screamed and did everything so involuntarily, almost animalistic, and your mind was too dazed to even comprehend anything else besides the way that your pussy gripped him so tight, keeping his hot seed inside you. you didn't want to let it go.
you were still spasming from your orgasm when he let go of your body and snapped your legs apart, taking place in between them, nuzzling his nose onto your pubic bone and feasting. his tongue lapped each of yours and his juices without mind, sucking, kissing, moaning, grunting, only to prolong the way your climax came down; you screamed so hard that your lungs burned.
falling limp on the bed covers, he let go, going back on top of you with the support of his arms and knees, face leveled to yours when he placed an innocent kiss on the tip of your nose and another one to your forehead.
"did it help you de-stress?" he joked and you placed one of your arms onto your eyes.
scoffing, you shook your head. "holy shit, I'm in love with you."
he gave you a slight push and rolled to his side, still staring at you with a darker flush across his chest and neck.
"well, I'm yours" he said and you licked your lips, sneaking a glance from under your arm.
"yeah, you better be."
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pup-pee · 4 months ago
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AAALLEETTSSAA GOOOO IM LITERALLY PLAYING PATRY CAKE W/MY OHONE THEY R SO CUTETTEE RURUUHFBFJOFIA
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i couldnt choose weather to post the version with emf in black or white line art so you guys are getting both !!! and as promised more seaster art :) i love to doodle some cuddles
#LOOK LOOK LOOK LOKK LOKK THE DETAILS R IMMACULATE#LIKE LITTERLY IM U HAD 2 POINT THIS OUT BUT THE HOLDING THE NECKLACE ILL SCREAM ACTUALLY#EMF ALSO TOOK OFF HIS BOOTS LIKE ;; B4 CLINBING UP & JUST SCOOTHCING IN2 PLACE ITS SO CUTEBEJOD GODDMANITNT#I LOVE HOW THE WHITE OUTLINES ALSO TURN LIKE A LIGHT BLUE?? IT AMMES OT SOOO PLEASING 2 LOOK @#& ALL THE STARSS OUGHBABA AAAA ALAL THE STARS THE GALAXIES THAT PAINT HSI SKIN LIKE EEWOAHH#LOVE THE EYEMAKEUP ON SEAWATT#& AGAIN ALL THE JEWLEDY LIKE WMAHMWHAMWHA ITS soOOOO GOOD#THE BOOTS R DRAWN SO WELL IN PERSPECTIVE IG DRAWING CUBES DOES PAY OFF B UR LIKE RAABAHHKC#THE HAND IN THE BACK OR ARM IS SO RELAXED THATS SUCH A NOCE ARM & U DIDNT NEED 2 DRAW IT BUT U DID & HOENSTLY IT JUST MAKES THE PIECE 4 ME#BC IFS JUST HANGING OUT OK IT JUST ITS JUST NATURAL#EMFS TAIL CURLING AROUND THE LEGG ;;; AAALWOJWHE MYGODD OTS SO CUTE THIS WHOLE THING IS PRECIOUS#WTF IS GOING ONNNNNN AAAAAA#ᓚᘏᗢ#ru ᓚᘏᗢ#adding my tags b4 i run outta ssppapaacceee#parkour civilization#seaster#seawatt#emf#reblog#AAAAAIAJJANSNNSN FMCCMLCKVLVL OVK JNVNCJKF IFS JSUST SUCH A YUMMY DRAWING RU HOLY HELL THE FULLY RENDERED RU DRAWINGGGG#it almost feel like they were both lonely & its like confusion but heyy its mot 2 bad? haha jsk ew I AHVE KO CLUE IM JUST BITEING#I UHHH IM GUESSING THATS EMFS CROWN?? BC IVE SEEN HIM DRAWN W/1 SO LIKE ITS SO SILLY 2 ME HE HAD A WHOLE ROUTINE B4 CUDDLES#got the toebeans im sosososooo glad u added those & the claws cause just JUST yeahh :333 YEAHHH ITS A YES FROM ME & THE WORLD & THE BIBLE &#theres just smth rlly satasyfying in the way u draw like nomnomnom eats ur ararttt#god pruple highlights… PURPLE HIGHLIGHTSSS#seawatt eating hair#eheheheieiifkfj aaaaaaaaAAAAAA#see no reason 2 b scared of what im doing & my tags i just take a long time 2 type#<3333333333333
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justnatoka · 4 months ago
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Actions...
Poly! The Lost Boys x GN! Reader
Word count: 1.9k
Warning: slight physical violence (manager grabs reader's arm), verbal abuse
Prompt: “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” / “Yes.” / “What if I just break his nose a little?”
Summary: The boys have been coming to the diner you’re waiting tables at for a while. Your manager is not a fan. One night things escalate.
Part 1/2
Next Part
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The bell chimed above the door, signaling the arrival of new customers. You looked up after placing the food in front of an older couple, and a bright smile lit up your face as you saw the group of four that just walked in. David and his gang have been coming to the diner for months now. They showed up one night, seemingly curious about the new place that had just opened on the boardwalk. You took their order, they made a few flirty remarks, you flirted right back, and that was it. They obviously took a liking to you and have been coming back every other night. It was honestly the highlight of your day, your stomach flipping in excitement every time. Even if they barely ordered anything, they still spent hours there, and you made an effort to go over to them and chat when work got slower and you had some time.
Your manager clearly didn’t like that. He complained before that they make other customers uncomfortable – although it didn’t seem that way to you –, and chastised you for encouraging them to spend so much time there. He made it a point to give you meaningless tasks so you wouldn’t have time for them, making them leave quicker. He had also been making snide remarks about them and glaring at their table to the point that they started noticing it.
You could basically hear him rolling his eyes from behind the counter as you walked up to their booth and greeted them.
“Hey guys, long time no see,” you joked.
“Hi babe, did you miss us?” Paul purred resting his head in his hand, giving you a dreamy look.
“Maybe,” you smiled coyly. “Maybe not. Who knows?”
“You’re such a tease,” he pouted, but his eyes were smiling.
“You know you like it, Paulie.”
“Oh, I absolutely love it,” he grinned right back at you.
You chuckled. “What can I get you guys? The usual?”
“Can I have you for dinner, sugar? I promise I’ll be gentle. Unless you don’t want me to,” Marko said with a shit eating grin on his face.
“You and gentle are on two different planets when it comes to eating, Marko. Babe, if I were you, I wouldn’t let his teeth near me.”
Marko swatted at Paul, who grabbed a menu to shield himself. “Shut up, dude. You’re no better either. You make even bigger messes than I do.”
“Not true.”
“Who complained about his pants getting ruined just a few days ago? Again.”
“Come on, man, that was one time.”
“Like I said. Again.”
“Yeah? Well you-“
“Boys,” David interjected before it could get any more out of hand. “How about we order already?” His tone sounded casual, but there was an edge to it that caused the other two to begrudgingly back down. It was a good thing too. Some of the other customers were already staring at the commotion, shuffling uncomfortably in their seats and whispering among themselves. You could feel your manager practically glaring holes into the back of your head.
They proceeded to give you their orders one by one, and after writing them down and sending them one last smile, you went to relay the orders to the cook. That’s when your manager walked up to you, his stormy expression promising nothing good.
“I need to talk to you for a second,” he stated.
Holding back an eye roll you nodded, “Sure.”
“I told you before that they are not welcome here,” he started, sending a glance towards their table. “Tell those punks to behave or they’ll get kicked out. This is a respectable establishment. We don’t want some hooligans bringing down our reputation.”
You wondered whether he had the balls to do the kicking out himself, but all you said aloud was “Yes, sir.”
When you brought out their food, Dwayne caught your wrist to get your attention.
“Is he giving you trouble again?” He motioned with his eyes towards the kitchen, and you looked to see your manager staring out the little window cut into the door.
“It’s fine, nothing I can’t deal with,” you huffed, frustration evident in your voice. Dwayne gave you a concerned look but nodded, trusting your word.
“Thanks for checking in with me though,” you added, feeling a little bashful all of a sudden, not really used to people caring this much about your well-being.
“Of course,” he smiled back at you.
After giving them their food, you wanted to stay and chat for a bit more, seeing as there weren’t many customers, but you could still feel the glare of your manager so you thought better of it. You went back behind the counter and started wiping it down.
You busied yourself with other tasks for a while, refilling a few coffee cups and making small talk while doing so, cleaning up tables after customers left and taking the orders of new arrivals. Even so, you kept stealing glances at them, blushing when you caught David already looking at you a few times. You noticed that he had a habit of following you around with his eyes while you were working, and although you were slightly unnerved at first, now it felt reassuring to know that he was constantly watching over you.
Tearing your eyes from him you wondered, not for the first time, what their life might be like outside these nightly visits. As much as you’ve gotten to know them these past few months, they were still an enigma in a sense. You haven’t seen them around town during the day before, and every time you asked questions about their background, they skillfully redirected the conversation. So you stopped inquiring, afraid that your prodding will drive them away. For now, you were satisfied with just having them here every other night, brightening up your shift with some light flirting and laughter.
Speaking of laughter, you looked up at the sound of a commotion, only to see Marko dodging a fry chucked at his head by Paul and quickly countering with an attack of his own. Paul barely had time to hold up his menu, the handful of fries bouncing off its surface and onto the seat between them, some of it dropping to the floor. He just let down his impromptu shield, when an onion ring landed right in the middle of his face. The whole table burst out laughing, and he was pointing an accusatory finger at Dwayne, who was shrugging his shoulders with a grin. David was leaning back, watching the food fight with amusement, sipping on his drink.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at their antics, not even bothered that you will have to clean up the mess they created. You headed to the back to get a broom, already thinking about a witty line to tell them off. You just turned around to go back out there, when your manager grabbed your arm. Startled, you let go of the broom and it loudly clattered to the floor.
As you looked into his eyes, you saw that he was seething.
“You tell these low-lives to get the hell out of here right now. Enough is enough. They are loud, not respecting other customers, and now they are making a huge mess by throwing food around. I’ve had it up to here with all this. If they keep coming back I’ll have to do something about it,” he hissed at you, then gave you a look which made you feel like dirt under his shoe. “It would also help a lot if you weren’t encouraging them. Batting your eyelashes like a common whore. You think I couldn’t replace you within a few days? You need to start behaving like a professional or so help me I’ll kick you to the curb.”
His grip on you was tightening with each word, and you tried not to flinch. You’ve never seen him so angry before and it was starting to scare you.
“I’m just trying to be friendly with the customers…”
He wasn’t having any of it. “Enough with the fucking excuses. You go over there and tell them to get out right now.”
“Yes, sir,” you squeaked out and as soon as he let you go, you rushed out of there, broom forgotten on the floor.
David was already looking at you when you approached them. His eyes were on you the second you stepped out of the door, his mood darkening as he took you in. Dwayne picked up on it as well, following his gaze to you. He became alert when he saw your stiff posture, your fingers nervously fidgeting with your apron.
“Hey, dollface,” Paul greeted you with a radiant smile, “have you tried this milkshake before? It’s fucking amazing.”
His grin instantly disappeared from his face when you didn’t smile back.
“Everything okay, babe?” he asked, a bit unsure.
You gave him a sigh before you spoke, “I’m sorry, guys, but you have to leave.” There was silence at the table.
“He did this to you?” Marko’s voice was cold as he asked while staring at your arm, where a bruise was already starting to form.
“Marko, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” you tried and failed to calm him down. He looked like he was fuming, ready to explode.
“Sweetheart, that’s not nothing,” Dwayne spoke up next, his jaw tight.
David didn’t say anything, but he was glaring down your manager with such intensity, that you saw him scramble back into the kitchen from the corner of your eye.
“I wanna punch him in the face,” Marko stated, and you had no doubt that he would if you let him.
“Please don’t. I need this job to pay my bills,” you sighed. You were getting exhausted at this point, and just wanted this shift to be over.
“Has he done this before? Hurt you?” Paul asked the question all of them wanted to know the answer to.
“No, he just likes to remind me that I’m a failure,” you smiled wryly. “But it’s nothing I can’t deal with. I promise.”
“Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” Marko repeated, this time with the corner of his mouth turning upward into a little smirk.
“Yes.”
“What if I just break his nose a little?” Now he was full on grinning.
You snorted. “Man, I would pay money to see that! But like I said, I really need this job. And if you do break his nose, even just a little bit, I’m sure as hell getting fired.”
David finally spoke up. “Alright, we won’t cause you any more trouble. Let’s go, boys.”
They all stood up, filing out one by one, each of them sending death stares towards your manager peeking through the kitchen door. You watched their retreating figures through the window for a second longer, already dreading how much more boring your shifts are going to be from now on if they don’t come back.
Out in the parking lot Dwayne turned to David. “We’re going to do something about this, right?”
“Yes, we’re definitely doing something about it.” He sent a smirk to the others, and as they silently communicated down the plan, they began grinning as well. They got on their bikes, and with a lot of heavy revving, they sped off into the night. It was a promise for later.
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jamiefartt · 5 months ago
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richmond's receptionist; part two
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part 1.
pairings: jamie tartt x reader, all of richmond is mentioned again.
summary: you're the receptionist at richmond fc, and after forming a bond with their star striker jamie tartt, the team becomes somewhat reliant on you to keep him fired up.
words: 7313
warnings: alcohol and slight inebriation, no smut at all but suggestive references and behaviour, sexual tension, painful pining.
———
after leaving the bustling Richmond headquarters, you find yourself sitting across from Jamie at the Crown and Anchor. although it's nothing fancy, Jamie asked Mae to clear out the back area of the pub, allowing for the two of you to have some privacy. when the two of you walked in, Jamie was greeted with cheers and pats on his back from the football fans who call this place their second home. he thanked them all as Mae led you two towards the more secluded area before promising there would be nobody bothering you any further.
"do you think Mae does lattes?" you joke, looking down at the menu. Jamie laughs as he studies the list of food to order. your eyes skim the small booklet of options, and you reckon you could eat it all if you really wanted to. the excitement of the match and all of your tension with Jamie has left you absolutely starving.
"by the way, y/n, my treat." he says, shooting you a wink.
"no, no, Jamie, you don't have-" you start, but he interrupts you. he lifts his pointer finger up to you and wags it side to side, tilting his head with a cocky grin; "my treat" he insists.
you can't help but blush, looking back down at the menu in an attempt to hide it. your eyes pretend to read the words, but all the letters are jumbled and blurry as you try to steady your breathing in the most subtle way possible. your nerves tie knots around your stomach, suddenly realising you're on a date... with Jamie Tartt.
"I'm getting a pint to celebrate. want one?"
"sure, thanks Jamie," you smile at him as he stands up, ready to head to the bar.
"that's my girl." Jamie winks at you again, tapping his hand on the table before walking away. your mouth falls open and your breath catches, making you need to cough. you wait until he's far enough not to notice you before clearing your throat. you can feel your ears burning up as you take a deep breath, steadying your heart rate. after a few puffs in and out, you feel yourself relax and your head clearing. you scan the menu again, your eyes landing on the pub-classic chicken strips and chips. as if on cue, your stomach rumbles, and you quickly clutch your sides to silence the sound.
"y'alright?" Jamie chuckles as he approaches you, a beer bottle in one hand, and a glass in the other; "m'lady" he says with a soft smile as he places the pint in front of you. as he sits down, he takes a quick swig of his bottle.
you wrap your hand around the glass before lifting it up. choosing to ignore his awkward question, you say: "cheers to Richmond's big win."
Jamie's smile widens and his eyes soften as they look into yours, maintaining the eye contact as he clinks the body of his bottle to your glass. you both take a large drink of your beers, still holding each other's gaze. you notice how deep the blue of his eyes is, looking almost brown under the dim light of the pub. it perfectly shadows his face, highlighting his cheekbones and accentuating his strong jaw. you take your time to drag your eyes across his chiseled features, making sure to memorise each and every inch of his face for future reference.
"what ya starin' at?" he interrupts your daze.
"your face." you reply in a teasing tone.
"it's nice, innit?" Jamie's smile turns cocky again as he brushes his fingers against his chin.
"not bad," you mutter with an unimpressed look.
"you look-" he starts, but is interrupted by Mae who suddenly appears next to your table: "so what are we having tonight?"
Jamie chuckles and closes his mouth into a smile at the poorly-timed interruption. he shakes his head and sighs before pointing his hand towards you and saying: "whatever you want, love."
ignoring the blush creeping up your cheeks at the nickname, you cross your arms on the table and smile up at Mae; "we'll get the chicken strips, some onion rings and two chips to share, please Mae."
"of course, dear." she replies kindly, taking the menus from you before walking away.
"just chicken?" Jamie huffs as he chuckles again.
"good source of protein," you shrug, "don't you need some energy after your match?"
Jamie lets a proper laugh slip, contrasting his previous subdued ones. you laugh with him, finding his expressions infectious. his eyes crinkle at the corners as he bears a wide grin, and his laugh sounds genuine and sweet. there seems to be a sparkle in his eyes that you're sure you're just imagining.
"thanks for coming today," he breathes out.
"of course, I mean, I wouldn't want to miss it for the world," you smile at him, and he mirrors it softly, "and I wanted to make sure you knew I don't hate you or anything..."
Jamie's eyes leave yours and drop down to the table as he sighs deeply. you hold your breath for a moment, anticipating his response. despite being on a literal date with him, you still feel guilty for how you upset him.
"please stop worryin' so much y/n. I've already forgiven you – in fact I should be thanking you for helping us win." Jamie looks you straight in the eyes as he reassures you, and you find yourself struggling to breathe again. a smile creeps its way onto your face as you nod.
Jamie tilts his head down and raises his eyebrows, looking up at you in question. "yeah?" he asks.
"mhm..." you respond, biting your lip.
"understood?" he says, and you feel his knee brush against yours underneath the table.
you nod again as your smile widens; "understood."
"good." Jamie says, smile growing impossibly brighter.
the two of your stare at each other for what feels like hours, but is really just a few seconds. every time you get lost in his eyes your heart rate speeds up impossibly fast, and you wonder what the chances are of you passing out. a flash of heat hits your chest when you feel his knee brush yours again, so you pick up your glass and take three big gulps of beer.
"woah, woah, woah, what's the rush?" Jamie asks, holding up his hands and leaning back against the booth. when you look at him again, he looks more concerned than anything else, brows furrowed and mouth agape.
"what?" you say casually, quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Jamie's brows stay creased as his eyes widen, his smile reappearing.
"at least wait for me before drinking it all! okay, c'mon,"
Jamie picks up his bottle by the neck and you take note of how small it looks with his fingers wrapped around it. before getting the chance to get lost in thought, you shake your head to clear your mind. you take a deep breath before lifting your glass to your lips again, before you both start chugging your drinks. you watch him as you do so, racing to be the first to finish your drink. after gulping down the last of your beer, you put your glass back down on the table with a dull bang.
"ha! I beat you to it!" you cheer, putting your arms in the air in celebration.
Jamie laughs as he places his bottle down before leaning over the table and wrapping a hand around each of your wrists. he mirrors your smile as he gently pulls your hands down towards the table. placing your hands on top of each other, he holds his hands over them; "and what if I let you win?"
your eyes are wide as you feel the weight of his hands on yours. they're warm and gentle, and as soft as you'd imagined them to be. the contrast between his warm skin and his cold signet ring resting on your fingers runs goosebumps up your arm. your breath is wobbly when you part your lips, and your eyes glaze over as you relax under his touch. you muster a grin, leaning forward so you're only inches away from his face.
"and what if I'm just better than you?"
"I doubt you're a better striker than I am." he bites back.
"you don't know what I'm good at, Jamie Tartt."
"I can't wait to find out, y/n y/l/n."
hours of flirtatious chatter and genuine laughter pass in a blink, and you blush as Jamie taps his hand against the bar after paying for your dinner.
"thanks so much, Mae!" you say with a kind smile. her smile matches yours as she winks at you, not saying anything.
your blush deepens and you feel yourself getting shy as Jamie takes your hand in his before heading through the doors, pulling you outside behind him. he doesn't look back at you, just walks with you in tow. he turns the corner into a small street, out of sight from the last lingering Richmond fans. when he lets go of your hand, you immediately miss the warmth and support it gave you. slightly inebriated, you steady yourself by standing with your back against the brick wall of a shop.
Jamie looks down the street, checking to see if there's anyone around. assuming the coast is clear, he finally turns to face you properly. the street is dimly lit, and his face is cast in dark shadows as he looks down at you. he's stood painfully close to you, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his body without him actually touching you.
Jamie's expression is unreadable, but the goofy smile he's had all evening is gone. you can feel the blood pumping through your heart as you look up at him. with your jaw slack, your chest heaves as you breathe heavily. your eyelids flutter into a few blinks in a poor attempt to compose yourself, but his gaze stays focused on yours. you struggle to fight the urge to reach for his hand again, but decide instead to tuck them behind your back in case you do something you may regret.
"y/n," Jamie starts, and he sounds breathless as he speaks your name. you don't respond, just keep your gaze locked on his. he drops his eyes down to your lips briefly, before dragging them up over your face to look you in the eyes again.
he lifts the hand that previously held yours up to your face, carefully running his fingers through the hair around your ear. he touches you as if you're made of porcelain and any slight pressure will break you. he brings his thumb to your cheekbone, grazing it across before bringing it down to your jaw. his fingers slide across your neck as he rests his thumb on your chin, tilting your head up every so slightly before brushing his thumb over your bottom lip softly. his head dips down until he's so close to you that you can feel his breath fan your lips. your breath hitches as you blink at him. the skin he'd touched feels on fire, and your head spins and blurs as he keeps flicking his eyes between yours and your lips. you let your eyes flutter shut, placing one of the hands from behind your back on his arm to steady yourself. alcohol and anticipation rushes through your veins and you can hear your heartbeat throbbing in your ears.
Jamie takes your closed eyes as a sign, finally brushing his lips against yours so softly you feel you may have imagined it. his breathing is heavy as you feel the blow against your skin. your other hand subconsciously lifts, and you hold it against his hard chest. his lips meet yours again, applying a bit more pressure this time. it's more of a peck than a kiss, and it's short and sweet. clearly, he's testing the waters. he presses his lips to the corner of your mouth next, holding it there for a few seconds. the goosebumps that rise on your skin quickly subdue your blush, and suddenly your mind begins to clear. you begin picturing your front desk at Richmond, and Rebecca's smiling face. flashes of Keeley, Ted, and Isaac interrupt your daze as you come to your senses.
flicking your eyes open, you press the hand on Jamie's chest to push him away from you; "Jamie, wait," you breathe, eyes avoiding his by looking down at the ground.
"wh- are you alright? did I do somethin'?" he asks while he shakes his head, confused.
you shake your head too, clutching your hands together and playing awkwardly with your fingers.
"no, Jamie, I'm sorry... I can't do this."
"what?" his confusion is replaced with shock as he takes a step back.
"I practically work for you, Jamie."
"no you don't– what are you on about?"
"Jamie," you say sternly, looking up at him with glossed over eyes, "please don't fight me on this... I don't want to lose my job just because I couldn't keep it in my pants."
rolling his eyes, he lets out a frustrated sigh; "you're not gonna lose your job, y/n. you work for Rebecca, not me. besides... no one has to know."
his insistence causes you to furrow your brows at him, surprised by what he's implying, but certainly not complaining.
smirking up at him, your hand moves to touch his arm; "what? you mean keep it a secret?"
"keep what a secret?" a voice chirps from beside you suddenly, and you let out a shrill yelp as Jamie jumps back in fear.
"what the fuck?!" he shouts, a hand on his chest and the other held out in front of him.
"oh my God! Ted!" you gasp in relief when you see who exactly interrupted you.
"hey guys! how're we doing tonight?" Ted says with a smile, hands in the pockets of his khaki's.
"fuck's sake, Ted! what are you doin' here?" Jamie says, bent over with his hands on his knees as he catches his breath.
"I live here... right up there," Ted replies bluntly, pointing to a flat a few doors down from where you were standing.
"right," Jamie says flatly.
"oh, lovely," you breathe, still recovering from your fright.
"I like taking evening strolls to clear my mind, y'know? after our big win today I really just needed some fresh air." Ted explains.
still leaning against the wall, you move your hands behind your back again and smile as you listen to him. you try not to think about Jamie, who's now standing at a more appropriate distance from you. the feeling of his lips ghosts your skin as you lick your lips, desperately trying to rid yourself of the taste of him.
"Jamie let me congratulate you again on the win today. oh, and y/n, thank you for fixing him." Ted smiles politely as he bows forward to both of you.
"cheers, Coach." Jamie replies, voice flat.
"thanks, Ted! it was hard, but Jamie's a softie at heart so he's already forgiven me." you laugh before glancing over at Jamie who was already looking at you. you expected him to look irritated by your teasing, but instead, he bares a soft look you don't quite recognise.
"anyways, I'll let you kids get back to keeping secrets. see you two on Monday!" Ted says with a shit eating grin on his face.
"bye, Coach." Jamie says.
"see you Monday!" you call to Ted as he walks past you towards the park in the distance. with his back to you, he lifts a hand and waves.
you and Jamie watch him walk away, waiting for him to be out of earshot. once Ted's across the road, both of you let out a deep breath, hearty laughs building in your chests.
"Jesus Christ," Jamie sighs heavily, placing a hand on his chest again as he laughs. you laugh too, covering your face with your hands before raking your fingers through your hair. when you lift your head back up, Jamie's staring at you with that look again. you wish you could read his mind and know exactly what he was thinking, but you'll just have to wait until he shows you.
with a deep sigh, you push yourself off the wall, feeling completely sobered up. you dig through your jacket pocket for your phone, ignoring Jamie's stare while you unlock it. you order an Uber home quickly, glad there's one only a two minutes away. pocketing your phone again, you lift your head up to look at Jamie again.
his head turns quickly when you look at him, hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck nervously. brushing off his awkward cover, you let him think you didn't notice he was still gawking at you.
"Jamie." you say, stepping towards him. you place a hand on his elbow, sliding it up onto his forearm to pull his hand down from behind his head. your hand slips into his subtly, wrapping your fingers around his.
"y/n." he sighs, squeezing your hand softly.
"thank you for dinner. I'll see you on Monday," you say to him.
"yeah... see you on Monday." he sighs, clearly disappointed at the outcome of your date.
you stand up on your tippy toes, leaning forward until you're face is next to his. you hear his breath hitch in his throat, so you decide to tease him just that little bit more.
letting your lips graze his earlobe, you whisper into his ear: "this isn't rejection."
you quickly peck his cheek before lowering yourself again, dropping his hand. with a small smile, you watch a blush appear on his cheeks.
"goodnight, Jamie." you say confidently before walking around the corner and towards your Uber. clearly stunned into silence, Jamie doesn't say anything as you walk away. he turns around to watch you get into the car, smiling at you. once you're comfortable in the backseat, you look at him through the window with a cheeky grin. you send him a wave, hoping he waves back. but he doesn't – instead, he shoves his hands into his jacket pockets and sends you a wink.
"good morning, y/n." Rebecca's smile is wide as she walks through the door. usually, she would keep walking towards the stairs to go up to her office, but this morning, she stops at your desk.
widening your tired eyes, you look up at her with a suspicious look; "good morning, Rebecca..." you trail off.
"how was your weekend?" she asks, cocking her head to the side, her smile not budging. her face is creeping you out, but you'd rather die than point that out to your boss.
"it was good. how was yours?" you ask politely, scared to blink as she holds eye contact.
"it was lovely... still reeling about our win." she chuckles, lifting her fist and shaking it in feigned excitement.
"me too," you say turning your chair to face your computer again, your head staying still as your body twists, "okay... thank you, Rebecca..."
her smile suddenly drops and she rolls her eyes, moving closer to your desk. in a hushed whisper she says: "okay, spit it out. tell me everything!"
you scoff and chuckle to yourself, turning your chair to face her again.
"Rebecca, I-"
"actually, forget it. come to lunch with me and Keeley later, then you can tell us everything! ha!" she says with a maniacal laugh.
"uhm, yeah! sure- yes... I'd love to!" you sputter, and suddenly you're wide awake.
Rebecca throws you a curt nod in response before strutting towards her office. once the sound of her heels disappears up the stairs, you sigh deeply, closing your eyes for a moment to take a few deep breaths.
you whisper to yourself as you breathe in and out "1... 2... 3... 4..."
"5!" a man shouts to you, causing you to jump in your seat, gripping onto the handles as you look up in shock.
"Higgins! good morning..." you sigh in annoyance, but try to cover it up by throwing him a fake smile.
"good morning, y/n." he nods at you and genuinely smiles at you, completely oblivious to your irritation.
he walks away, and you finally turn to your computer to print another week's worth of sign-in sheets. while placing the papers in their respective clipboard, you imagine seeing Jamie again this morning. suddenly, you get hot and flustered, and you realise that your actions will actually have consequences. it was fun teasing him and all, but having to act professional with him in front of everyone at Richmond isn't going to be as easy or enjoyable.
"hey y/n." Colin says as he walks up to your desk right as you place the clipboard on top of it. he has a big grin on his face, and you can't wait to know why.
"hi Colin! have a good weekend?" you ask with a smirk. you hand him a Richmond-branded pen and watch him sign his name.
"God, y/n, there's just something so special about men isn't there?"
you cackle at him, completely not expecting those words to come out of his mouth.
"what?"
"just... think about that." he says seriously, smile gone from his face, "sit on it, if you will."
you continue to laugh as he turns his back without another word, and you're expression stays bewildered while you watch him walk down the hallway.
"what's so funny?" Isaac asks, brows creased, of course.
"nothing, nothing... how are you, Captain?" you wave a hand in front of your face to cool yourself.
"ecstatic about our win. excited for training." he states frankly, face like stone.
"oh, yeah, I can tell!" you say with a teasing smile. Isaac doesn't respond, or even smile, but he blows a small huff of air out of his nose, which you choose to count as a big loud laugh.
the rest of the team arrives in droves, all of them taking their time to sign in and greet you. every time anyone asks about your weekend, you just shrug and find different ways to congratulate them on their match. clearly, they're all still celebrating their win, and you count your lucky stars no one brings up Jamie. that is, until the coaches show up.
"morning, y/n!" Ted says as Beard takes to signing them both in. normally, Ted stands at a normal distance from your desk – but today, he puts his elbows on top of it and places his head in his hands, looking at you with a grin.
"hey Ted," you smile politely, ignoring his clearly teasing expression.
he quickly raises his eyebrows twice, before saying: "do you, perchance, know where Jamie is this morning?"
"you can't just say perchance, Ted." you shrug at him, rolling your eyes playfully.
"hey, don't change the subject. where's Jamie?" he points a finger gun at you, pretending to threaten you.
putting your hands in the air, you pretend to surrender; "you caught me! I killed him. I couldn't stand the shame of being seen with him in public that I just had to get rid of him. please... forgive me..."
Ted keeps his finger gun pointed at you as you pretend to cry. in the meantime, Beard has finished signing both of them in, and is making his way down the hallway without a word.
"what the fuck?"
you quickly lower your hands, folding them in your lap. Ted, however, keeps the gag going, pointing his fingers at Jamie, who's holding two takeaway coffee cups.
"Mr Tartt! you're late! how will you pay– okay whatever, I'm done." Ted says, giving up the gag midway.
"bye, Ted." you say, smiling at him.
"bye, y/n," he smiles at you before turning to Jamie, "hurry."
"alright, alright," Jamie sighs, moving towards the desk and placing down one of the cups.
instinctively, you reach out a hand to take the coffee and sip it. Jamie doesn't say a word, just signs himself in. you ignore his silence as you lift the cup to your lips, taking a small sip.
"huh?!" you pull the cup away from your mouth as quick as you can, "Jamie?!"
usually, when you take a sip, you taste a delicious, perfectly cooled-down, latte. but today, you taste something bitter and grassy. you look up at Jamie, clearly confused and annoyed. there's a smirk on his face, not a hot one, and as he places the pen down on the desk he says: "green tea. enjoy it, babe."
he shoots you a quick wink before walking down the hallway and disappearing around the corner. you scoff at him, wishing you could call after him. instead, you take a deep breath, and try another sip of your green tea. with a grimace already on your face, you take another sip, before shaking your head when it touches your tastebuds.
"hm- no, no. never again." you say to yourself, standing up and speed walking towards the staff room to make yourself a shitty coffee.
throughout the morning, you make up any excuse to walk past the locker room and training pitch. you start using the printer on the other side of the building, and only go to the bathroom near the pitch which only the players use. you even go out to the small car park to sneak a look at the training pitch, rationalising it by telling yourself you need some fresh air.
you only catch slight glances of Jamie, and most of the time it's from a distance. the effort is definitely distracting you from your work, but as long as you don't leave your desk for more than ten minutes, your absence will go unnoticed.
as the clock nears noon, you wonder if there's time for one last bathroom trip before having lunch with Keeley and Rebecca. sliding out of your chair, you slip out of the desk and speed walk down the hallway. as you turn the corner, you hear the bustle of the Richmond team pouring into the changing room. cursing yourself under your breath, you make it your mission to reach the bathrooms unnoticed. you straighten your posture, keeping your head forward as you pick up your pace. you glide past the locker room, the coaches office, and the gym. you turn the last corner, peering behind you to make sure no one is behind you. starting to sigh in relief, you look in front of you, only to be met with Jamie standing right in front of you. you yelp in surprise, and quickly cover your mouth with your hands as not to attract attention to yourself.
"what are you doing here, y/n? these are our bathrooms." Jamie grumbles in a deep, hushed tone.
you're speechless, and breathless, as you look up at Jamie with big eyes. the fright he gave you is still evident in your panting breaths, and your mind is blank. his eyes flick between yours and your lips, and he turns his body in front of you, making you press your back into the wall. he moves closer to you, placing a hand on the wall right beside your face. you can hear the team in their changing room nearby, and the thought of one of them seeing you and Jamie like this fills you with adrenaline rather than fear.
Jamie leans his face even closer to yours, sliding his lips lightly against your cheek as he dips towards your ear; "I don't think you're supposed to be here, y/n... aren't you meant to be behind your desk?"
goosebumps cover your skin at the feeling of his breath fanning your neck. you fight to keep your breathing steady, but miserably fail when you feel his other hand rest on your waist. he smells like fresh deodorant and heat, and you can trace the scent of his conditioner in his hair. you nod your head, not able to force out any words.
"right, so... if I were to tell Rebecca that you've been leaving your desk all day just to see me... do you think she'll let that slide?" his voice is low and rumbles in your ear, giving you shivers down your spine. you shake your head in response, choosing to stay quiet.
his hand leaves your waist and you almost whine at the loss, and he lifts it up to tuck your hair behind your ear. mirroring the movements from after your date, he runs his fingers along your jaw, touching his thumb to your bottom lip again.
"know your place, y/n. I'll see you later."
your eyes flutter shut at his words and when you open them, his hands are gone from your skin. standing a safe distance away from you, Jamie scoffs and smirks, crossing his arms across his broad chest. clearly proud of himself, he looks your body up and down shamelessly, dragging his eyes over your figure. meeting your gaze again, he winks at you, before disappearing behind the corner.
left standing against the cold wall, you're breathless and feel like you're overheating. you huff out a 'phew' before pushing yourself off the wall. brushing down your shirt, you fix its collar and sleeves, hoping you don't look too disheveled. Jamie barely touched you, and yet you feel like you've just been railed.
you fix your hair and take a deep breath before turning the corner and speeding down the hallway. you manage a few measly greetings to the few people who say hello to you, but focus your energy on getting back to your desk. when you get there, you rush to your chair, feeling as if your legs are about to give out beneath you. you clutch your glass of water and chug it, needing to cool down. you slump back, catching your breath as the cold water settles you, pulling you back from the brink of collapse.
"y/n? lunch time!" Keeley squeals from down the hallway beside you. you know the smile you give her is wonky, and suddenly you can't wait to debrief with her and Rebecca.
"you rejected him?!" Keeley shouts at you, almost spitting out her noodles.
"no! that's the point, I didn't reject him. I just left him wanting more," you shrug.
Rebecca and Keeley look at you with shock written all over their faces, even though you look at them with a smile.
"why didn't you just shag him?!" Rebecca exclaims.
you sigh, setting your takeaway box on the coffee table in front of you; "look, girls, if you were there you'd get it,"
"I was there. I get it." Ted adds. he's sitting on a separate chair with a sandwich he brought from home, while you, Keeley, and Rebecca are sitting on her plush couches.
"Ted, I never thought I would say this but, please... tell me more." Rebecca sighs.
"I don't kiss and tell, or – watch an almost-kiss and tell – but what I can tell you, is that y/n has Jamie Tartt wrapped around her little finger."
you blush at Ted's words, and you suddenly feel like a teenage girl again. your thing with Jamie feels like a pining high school crush again where you exchange glances in the hallway and blush at each other in class.
"don't you wanna shag him?" Keeley asks you.
"of course I want to shag him! just... not right now." you say, picking up your food again and taking a bite.
"from the way he was looking at you on Saturday night, I can promise you y/n, he's at your beck and call." Ted assures you.
your brows furrow at his words, and you struggle to decide whether you appreciate his words or feel rather sick with embarrassment at the sound of them; "thanks...?" you drawl.
the three of them look at you with pity written all over their faces; "why are you all looking at me like that?"
"we just want you to get some!" Keeley grunts, humping the air. she always knows how to make you smile.
"we nearly kissed after our date, but all I could think about was you guys,"
"I'm flattered," Keeley says as she flicks her long hair behind her shoulder, and Ted agrees with her.
shrugging them off, you continue: "I just started worrying about us having an inappropriate workplace relationship. I mean, he's technically my boss."
Keeley makes a distasteful face at your explanation, while Rebecca silently blinks at you in utter confusion. Ted raises his eyebrows as he avoids your eyes and takes a bite out of his sandwich.
"is that shade?" Keeley speaks up after a few long seconds.
"huh?" you shake your head.
"are you saying my workplace relationship with Roy is inappropriate?" she laughs, sitting up onto her knees as she grabs onto Rebecca's shoulders.
"yes! and, y/n, are you referring to me and Sam?" Rebecca adds, holding back a burst of laughter.
your face drops at their words, immediately regretting what you said. you hold your hands up in defense, shaking your head quickly; "no! no! not at all! I just- I don't want to lose my job!"
Keeley and Rebecca's laughter is loud and obnoxious, and as you look to Ted for help he just gives you a tight-lipped smile before getting up to leave.
"Ted?"
"good luck," he mouths to you, hurrying out of Rebecca's office. the sound of the door shutting is concealed under the sound of Keeley and Rebecca's boisterous laughter.
"please, guys, come on," you say at a normal volume, but the two don't stop laughing. at this point, Keeley is lying on the couch kicking her legs in the air with laughter. meanwhile, Rebecca is doubled over laughing, clutching her necklace in her hands as she struggles to breathe.
"LADIES!" you shout, loud enough to snap the two of them out of their laughing fit. they chuckle and pant as they catch their breaths, wiping tears from their eyes. you give them their moment to calm down, suddenly feeling extremely shy at the topic of discussion.
"what should I do?" you ask sincerely, cheeks blushing.
"I say you should keep him chasing after you," Rebecca starts.
"yeah, like a hunter and prey situation," Keeley adds.
"what? no, I don't want to be Jamie's prey!"
"no, see, you both take turns in each position. one moment, you tease him and take control, and the next, you act all innocent and naive and let him take control." Rebecca explains.
Keeley nods along as she speaks, continuing from Rebecca's point; "exactly! that will drive him absolutely mad! it's perfect, y/n, you have to mess with him until you physically can't keep your hands off each other."
"aha! I'm so excited!" Rebecca claps and Keeley copies her, both of them squealing like girls.
you smile to yourself, remembering how good it felt to leave him hanging on Saturday, and how deeply you felt your interaction in the hallway before lunch. maybe the two in front of you are right, and maybe it won't hurt to tease Jamie a bit. after all, he's Richmond's star striker, you might as well play with his ego.
"so... you won't fire me?" you ask Rebecca, eyebrows raised.
"not for having a relationship, no. if I catch you having sex on my desk, however, that would be an entirely different conversation." Rebecca's words are serious, even though Keeley giggles beside her.
"understood. thanks, boss." you salute to Rebecca before letting a wide smile cover your face. soon enough, the three of you are squealing in excitement, just like teenage girls.
that evening, as all of Richmond signs themselves out for the day, you wait in anticipation to see Jamie stroll towards you. your staff colleagues leave first, always taking the first opportunity to head home. bidding your goodbyes to all of them, you count down the minutes to when the players turn the corner. hearing the familiar noise of their laughter and chatter, you sit up straight with a smile, waiting to see the guys.
"y/n!" Sam exclaims, being the first to lead the pack towards your desk, "how are you?!"
"hiya Sam, I'm great! what about you?"
"ugh, amazing! I'm heading to the restaurant now to host for the evening – we're fully booked!"
"oh woah, Sam, that's incredible! I'm so happy for you! have fun!" you gawk at him, wishing you could give him a hug.
"thank you very much. have a good night, y/n!"
as soon as you wave at Sam, there's a small group of players already pushed up to your desk trying to sign out; Isaac, Colin, Dani, and Jan Maas.
"hi y/n," Dani smiles at you. Colin and Jan bicker amongst themselves as Isaac signs all of them out.
"hey guys! how was training?" you ask them.
"amazing!", Dani says, "I don't know what you did to Jamie but he's on fire!"
you laugh a little at his words, confused by what he means. sure, you riled him up for the match but other than that, what effect have you been having on him on the pitch?
"what do you mean?" you ask with a smile.
"it's true. he's faster, more focused, and puts everything he has on the pitch, even though it's just training. no more half-assed narcissistic shit." Isaac adds.
"he's completely hyped! when he runs towards me during training I fear for my life, but in the dressing room, he's so kind I want to hug him." you laugh at Dani's words.
Isaac gives you a curt nod before walking towards the door, and Dani follows in tow after giving you a wave.
"see you, y/n!" Jan chirps as he leaves behind them. you say bye to him, expecting Colin to leave too, but instead, he leans over your desk.
"Jamie is absolutely smitten with you," he whispers with a serious expression, "he needs you, and the team needs him – keep doing whatever it is you're doing."
your mouth drops open and shut a few times, at a loss for words. all you can muster as you stare at his stern face is a: "thanks? I think,"
"goodnight." he says in a normal voice, tapping the desk before jogging out the door to follow his teammates.
the rest of the team passes you in a haze, your body on autopilot as you say bye to each of them. once the crowd clears, you check the clipboard, noticing Jamie is the only one who hasn't signed out. the staff has gone home, the team has left, and the coaches are all signed out. Rebecca and Higgins are upstairs, so you know your next move will go unnoticed.
you stand up from your chair, quickly brushing your hands down your clothes and fixing your hair to make sure you look presentable. hopping down from the desk, you glance up the stairs to Rebecca's office. her door is closed, so you assume she's busy enough not to come downstairs any time soon. with confidence, you strut down the hallway, mustering up the courage for what you're about to do. shoes hitting the floor in a steady rhythm, you make your way to the team's changing room. as you walk, you take some deep breaths to settle your nerves.
the door to the locker room is closed when you reach it, and as you push it open, Jamie's head snaps up to look at you. he's on his phone, elbows resting on his knees. you slam the door shut behind you, quickly glancing at the coach's office to make sure the two of you are truly alone.
"y/n," Jamie says with a small smile, a glint in his eyes at the sight of you.
you waste no time to walk towards him, stopping right in front of him. you slot yourself between his legs, forcing him to sit up straight and put his phone down. bringing a hand up to his shoulder, you run your fingers over the crook of his neck, moving your hand down across his collarbones before brushing his chest. looking him up and down shamelessly, you are fueled by the look in his eyes. quickly shifting from soft to hungry, his look is lust filled and dark. his hands move up to the back of your thighs, pulling you closer. he runs his fingers down to your calves before dragging them up to just below your ass.
"what happened to not wanting to be inappropriate in the workplace?" he asks, voice sultry as he looks up at you.
"everyone's gone... we're off the clock." you smirk at him, and his hands take place firmly on your ass. he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, and you can't help but let your eyes drop down to watch the slick movement.
lifting your hands, you place them both on each side of his neck, using one thumb to pull at his earlobe while the other runs gently over his adam's apple. he swallows nervously, and you feel the movement in his throat beneath your finger. your eyes scan his face, while his are focused on your lips. the cocky smirk has disappeared, and now Jamie looks like putty in your hands. his eyes half-lidded, jaw slack, his breaths are shallow and short as he awaits your next move.
you lick your lips, knowing he's staring at them, and you hear his breath hitch in his throat. the hand previously placed on his throat now moves up the back of his neck. your touch runs over the short hairs at the nape of his neck, and you can feel the goosebumps that arise on his skin at the feeling. you lean forward, and his grip on your ass loosens. lips to his ear, you brush your cheek against his, quietly admiring how soft his skin is.
his breath fans your neck with how close you stand, and you ignore the thrill it gives you. you take a deep breath, making him wait excruciatingly long for what you're going to do. you place a small kiss on the soft skin beside his ear before whispering: "I'll see you tomorrow, Jamie. don't forget to sign out."
quickly standing up straight, you smile innocently at him as you take a step back. his hands lift to reach out for you again, but instead you move away and walk towards the door. without looking back, cockiness fills your stride as you exit the locker room, leaving behind a breathless Jamie Tartt.
———
thank u for reading! i hope u liked this! pls give me any kind of feedback or even ideas for part three, my ask is open!
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nackrosor · 1 year ago
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~Your Wish~
(Pt. 2)
PART 1 - PART 3
Brahms Heelshire x nanny!Reader
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warnings/tags: nsfw, smut, dub-con/non-con, non consensual touching, somnophilia, Brahms is basically in heat
word count: 1,9k.
author's notes: I had to cut this part because it was getting too long and I wanted to stay in the 1k words limit... So... Part 3 👀??? Lmk
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Brahms had no idea how much time had passed. All he knew was that it had felt like ages—long,  torturous ages—until he considered it safe to leave his hiding place. His breathing was still ragged as he carefully stepped into your room, his erection pulsing insistently in his pants, aching with every step he took towards your bed.
There you were, sleeping peacefully, unaware of his presence, oblivious to the tumult of emotions you had stirred up within him. He had never seen you pleasuring yourself before. Did you touch yourself thinking of him? Envisioning a “real boy” keeping you company? His erection twitched at the thought. Oh, he could have helped you. He could have given you what you needed, if only...
You stirred in your sleep and he froze, holding his breath for a few moments.
Since your arrival, he had spent many a night standing in the darkness of your room, watching over you, hypnotised by your beauty and the soft cadence of your breathing. 
This time however was different. He could clearly feel it. The agonising aching in his pants was proof of that. 
Brahms had never allowed himself to get so close to you when he needed to tend to his own needs. He didn't trust himself. He didn’t trust what his twisted and perverted mind could come up with as obfuscated by an insatiable desire as it was; an intense yearning that he found himself able to suppress less and less each day, the more he watched you, listened to you, longed for you...
He didn't even know why he had entered your room. He'd simply opened the secret passage in the walls and moved towards you, drawn like a moth to a light source. 
He'd tried to crawl back inside the walls, to touch himself and cry your name as loudly as he was capable of, certain that you wouldn't be able to hear him, just like every other time he'd jerked off at the notion of you. He had attempted to ignore what he had just witnessed by leaving you alone... but he couldn't. His body refused to obey. It seemed as if you had enchanted him, as if your body was calling out to him, luring him in... 
Your words kept on echoing within his mind, your wish lulling him like a chant, instilling hope in his whole being, pulling the strings of his flesh like a master puppeteer.
You wanted Brahms to be real. He could grant your wish. He sought to grant your wish and make you happy.
You shifted position once more, this time lying on your back. The sheets slid slightly away from your body, exposing a portion of your torso and highlighting the curves of your breasts.
Brahms inhaled sharply through his nose. His gaze swept over your body, taking in every inch of your exposed form and what he could glimpse of the rest. As he swallowed drily, his Adam's apple bobbed hard in his throat. He could feel his resolve waver, his will crack. 
He could do anything to you. Anything his messed-up mind would push him to do. He could take anything that he wanted from you. Everything he'd ever craved. You were so beautiful... so vulnerable... lying there at his complete disposal…
The darkness would be the only witness. 
His feet moved by themselves, his hand trembling as it reached out to you. When the tips of his fingers brushed over the bare skin of your shoulder, he shuddered. It was as delicate to the touch as velvet, even softer than he had anticipated.
He leaned in closer, his mask nearly touching the top of your head, as he took a short sniff of your scent and moaned in delight. His erection throbbed at the familiarity. How many times had he reached his release point, sniffing the garments he'd stolen from you? However, breathing it in directly from your skin was hundreds of times better.
His fingers caressed your hair, then trailed the outline of your arm, slowly working his way down till he met the hem of the covers.
His gaze diverted to your face. You were sleeping so soundly. It seemed unlikely you would be waking up anytime soon.
His fingers didn't shake any more as they carefully pulled the blankets down, revealing your upper body. 
Brahms felt his heart leap and pound wildly, as if it was ready to burst his chest open. Yet the pain in his pants was far worse. It urged him to take action .
He clasped his hand around your wrist and pulled it toward his pants. His mask barely concealed the whine he let out once your palm made contact with his bulge. His entire body trembled with overwhelming desire. 
It felt like a sin. Something he would be chastised for. He should have been put off by the mere thought of it, yet this only made him more eager. More excited to let his perversions finally take the reigns. He couldn’t hold back any longer. 
The bed creaked slightly when he climbed onto it and onto you, encasing your legs between his. He leaned down and inhaled your enticing scent as he ran his nose along your neck and down your collarbone. His hands moved to your chest attracted to your body like magnets, palms closing around your breasts, groping the soft flesh from above the thin fabric of the nightgown you were wearing.
The cool touch of his porcelain mask travelling down your skin made you stir slightly in your sleep, your neck craning to the side allowing him more room, as if you were inviting him to keep probing your skin. He ripped the mask off his face with a grunt and dug in, lapping at your neck with hardly contained hunger. He heard you hum quietly in response and took it as a sign of approval. As his lips trailed on the surface of your skin, he travelled downward, slipping his fingers underneath the neckline of your robe and peeling it down. The sight of your exposed bosom heightened his burning desire, causing his erection to twitch unrelentingly. 
He couldn't help but kiss your breast, his lips lingering on your delicate flesh, wrapping around the sensitive tip. He moaned in pleasure, his hips jerking forward again, pressing against your body.
His careless movements caused you to hum louder and move again in your sleep, sluggishly kicking your legs. As a result, the covers fell further away from you, revealing your thighs. Your robe had rolled up in the process, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.
Brahms stared down in awe at your figure, barely managing to hold back the guttural cries that threatened to spill from his mouth and startle you awake. He felt lured in by the sight of your thighs and in an instant his hands were on you again, fingers digging in your tender flesh. 
"Oh, my Y/N." His voice cracked with unbearable yearning as he moaned your name.
"Mmmh-?" 
He could hear you but chose to ignore it. He didn't want to wake you up, or maybe he didn't care anymore. He was too caught up in his heat-filled mind to bother worrying about anything else. 
He dipped, pressing his lips on your knee, and climbed up in a frenzy, leaving a wet trail of kisses and nibbles on your skin.
He frantically pulled your nightgown up past your belly, without ever taking his lips off of you. The moment your panties came into view, a sharp shiver coursed through his whole body, his eyes widened in hunger and he started salivating. Without delay he bent down again, pressing his nose against your heat to catch a whiff of your scent; your heady sweetness only made him more desperate, a whimper falling from his parted lips. Did you taste just as sweet? Oh, he was dying to find out.
You mumbled something incomprehensible while you wriggled under his persistent touch upon your body. And so you shifted again, turning to lay down on your stomach, unconsciously preventing him from reaching his desired destination. 
When you turned, Brahms felt a slight pushback, a grumble of discontent escaping his mouth, but it only took him a second to draw back in, urged by a primal need.
His gaze flickered to your bottom now in plain sight, his breath caught in his throat as he noted a wet spot right in the center of the cloth covering your heat. His hand moved as if it had its own mind, his fingers trailing over the damp spot before in a swift and impatient motion he pulled your panties to the side. He gasped as he looked down at your exposed folds, gulping at the way they glistened with your fluids.
He could not endure it any longer... He needed you... He yearned to feel his cock buried deep inside you... He'd fantasised about it so many times...  And now he was so close to actually making it happen... 
His body was a bundle of tensed nerves. He couldn't understand what was happening but everything ached and he knew you were the cause. Just like he knew you were the only one who could relieve him from this torture.
He'd never experienced such fierce emotions before. He had absolutely no control over them.
Brahms let out a sigh of relief as he unbuttoned his trousers, leaving more room for his swollen erection. His eyes fluttered closed in response, but only for a fraction of a second, unwilling to look away from the arousing sight of his fingers stroking your pussy, coaxing in your moisture and spreading your folds apart. 
His breathing was so ragged, it echoed through the old walls of your room. The only other audible sound was that squelch he caused by rubbing your labia, which only became more prominent the moment he buried his fingers inside you and started to move them in and out in a leisurely motion.
He had never touched a woman before. In the past, he had caught some of his previous nannies touching themselves; he saw what they were doing, how and where they lingered the most with their fingers but… he had never had the occasion to do it himself. Those women had turned out to be awful. They had disrespected the doll and by extension him. They were undeserving… But you… Oh, you deserved this and more… Yes. Yes. You deserved him.
A moan escaped your lips, and he felt you stirring more than you had before.
With a jolt of fear mixed with excitement he sensed you were about to turn and immediately reached over for his mask, securing it back on his face. With his other hand he pressed down on your spine to pin you on the mattress and prevent you from moving. 
"Mmmmh? W-what…" your voice was barely audible, your words slurred by your sleepy state.
He should have left you there, still half-asleep. He should have stopped right then and there. Made you believe that whatever you had felt that night had merely been part of a dream. He should have holed up in his walls and kept himself hidden for a little while longer before showing himself to you… before giving you what you deserved… and taking from you what he deserved… 
He should have been a good boy… 
But he couldn’t. 
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Oh, no he couldn’t. He had gone too far, it was impossible for him to stop.
MORE STORIES 🥀
[I'm almost certain I will indeed write a third and final part for this but please let me know if you would actually like to read it! 🌹]
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[Also, consider leaving a tip here on Tumblr or buying me a ☕ if you particularly like what you read. Thank you! 🥀]
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Tags: @shondlenoodle @lonely-girl2423 @mellsfern @inlovewithquestionablecharacters @dij-ology @things-you-cant-say-tomorrow-day
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cheeseceli · 26 days ago
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Late wait
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Pairing: idol!Lee Know × Gn!reader (established relationship)
Genre: fluff, domesticity, drabble
Request: Lee know with a "waiting for us" kinda vibe. Just being together in their own place with lots of domestic fluff. Dancing whenever, seeing movies whenever...
Warnings: mentions of food, Minho is an idol, the cats and the boys are here as well, reader and him live together
A/n: I simply love to write domestic moments | daily click
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Minho finds it funny how the most beautiful things in life are always the simplest.
Coming from someone whose life is full of luxuries, he could understand why someone would be skeptical about his statement, but he couldn't be more truthful than that.
He already saw thousands of different people, dressed in fancy suits and drank expensive wine. The places he already went to were sometimes covered in gold, and if not, they'd have a red carpet and sculptures everywhere. He's not going to lie and say these things are bad, or that he despises them. On the contrary, actually. However, when you live a life of "too much", you learn how to appreciate what is simple.
His cats stepping on his face to wake him up. All the times he went somewhere random to camp. Seungmin's burnt barbecue and Felix' brownies. You. All the things that made his life easy.
As much as he loves all those things, maybe he should highlight you a little bit more. It's only fair, since you are the one who plays the major role in making him feel alive.
When Minho thinks about you, he thinks about how he loves to wake up early before some morning schedule and see how you're sleeping peacefully next to him. You always ask him to wake you up before he goes, but he never finds the strength in himself to disrupt your dreams. You have a whole collection of little notes he put next to the bed, apologising for not saying bye, but promising to bring food whenever he's back.
He also remembers dance nights. As he is a professional dancer and an idol, he thought he wouldn't want to move a single muscle the moment he gets home. However, whenever he comes home to you singing some random song on the radio, it's impossible to not hold your hand and start swaying according to the rhythm. You don't know how to dance. When he's with you, he suddenly forgets how to as well. In the end, it's just two fools in love, dancing how your heart tells you to.
Movie nights where none of you had luck picking what to watch, so you'd just sleep mid the boring show. Cooking homemade dinner and noticing you ran out of all the ingredients, so you have to run to the market. Visiting his parents every Sunday. Staying in the entire weekend with the cats because that's so much better than going out.
There are dozens of little moments like those that Minho could talk about. None of them was particularly special - they were all things that happened every day. Maybe that was the magic of it. Living was easy with those moments, with you.
Now he was coming back home. The day was full of different events. Tiring, extravagant, but nice. He was smiling. But now he only wanted to come home to you. He knew you were staying up late so you could welcome him and ask him how the day was. And as much as you've waited, he'd hug you with his entire being and never let go.
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Masterlist | you'll probably like: kiss me (more)
Reminder this is just fiction!! I'm not trying to portray real life and you shouldn't believe that this is how the members actually are. This is just for the vibe and the delulu!
Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143 @sleepyleeji @jinnie-ret @sheraayasherrecs @rockstarkkami @urlocalmultigroupfan (those I couldn't tag are in bold)
Dividers by @adornedwithlight | images 1, 2 and 3
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ilylovelyz · 6 months ago
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⍣ ೋ fool(s) in love
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˚ · . bakugou katsuki x afab!reader
: ̗̀➛ no real warnings, just bakugou daydreaming abt y/n, slight possessiveness on baku's part, mentions of sexual activity, a bit angsty ?, based off "fools in love" by inara george, mentions of pregnancy and marriage
everything you do, everywhere you go now, everything you touch, everything you feel, everything you see, everything you know now, everything you do, you do it for your baby love
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fools in love. are there any different kind of lovers?
fools in love, bringing all sorts of feelings, bringing such joy—yet a devasting amount of pain for no reason.
bakugou thinks this as he scrolls mindlessly on his phone, his fingers pressing on your icons and pages.
his red eyes stare at your most recent pictures and stories, checking if you've sent any new messages to him, but there are no new ones because it's 4AM and you're dead asleep and he's here out patrolling. he stalks your page like a stranger, looking at all your highlights and comment sections of your posts, wanting to see for any recent activity. he goes through your followers, not even caring to check your following because you don't even follow people back like that. he scoffs at the new followers, men.
he exits out of the app, instead opening up his phone gallery. he does this without thinking, he's been doing this for awhile. to be specifc, for a couple of years, maybe around the time you and him got serious as a couple.
his mind subconsciously wanders to the memories he has of you, replaying those precious yet idiotic moments over and over. he lets out a sudden chuckle when he thinks of the time you slipped cartoonishly on a banana peel—the banana peel he purposely placed on the floor because he didn't actually think you were dumb enough to slip on it.
but you did—you slipped on it. and then you cried. cried like a baby, and the memory just has bakugou trying to hold back his laughter in order to not seem like a crazy person. looking around, he resumes his daydreaming.
how unusual it is for him to daydream. yeah—he has dreams and aspirations—ones that revolve around him as the world's #1 hero and being beating that dork deku. but what he's dreaming of now has him thinking long and hard.
the corners of his lips twitch up into a soft smile, his red eyes gleaming at the thought of you. the thought of maybe the relationship he has with you going on for longer than what is now. the relationship, growing and growing—just like you and him, reaching important milestones. milestones so important, like having your legal first sip of alcohol with him, buying a house together—or even something way more serious and commiting than that, like marriage.
like seeing you grin and cry tears of happiness when he pops the big question. or a year later, seeing you in a big white poofy dress, similar to a princess dress—because you certainly act like one. and seeing you walk down the aisle to him, all blushed and nervous like how you easily are. his tongue peeks out to lick his lips when he imagines him kissing you as his bride, finally making you his wife.
then there are the years of marriage. the first year, the repeated honeymoon stage, where you'll be sticking to him like glue, waiting in the living room from his return from a long day at work and practically pouncing on him because you missed him so much. the stage where neither of you will be able to keep your hands off each other, kisses and touches fervent and desperate for the other.
then the second year, when you'll be kicking him out of bed and throwing the TV remote at his head when he refuses to order you food at 12AM. maybe this year, or the next, with last year's effort, you'll end up pregnant with your first child, his child. preferably a girl, one that has your cute face but certainly not your bratty tendencies.
then the next years will pass in a blur, maybe you'll bear him another brat or two, giving him the family he secretly wants. you'll be the mother of his children, the matching pepper shaker to his salt shaker. you'll grow old with him, becoming more cranky and argumentative with him about which show to watch. he'll call you a grandma, a old hag, then he'll begin reading signs and posters for you when your eyesight is so shitty after your constant years of nights of being on your phone at full brightness in the dark.
then he'll finally retire and buy the two of you a nice home, preferably near a beach as you'd love. the two of you will spend the rest of your life there, still arguing about what to have for dinner and then go to sleep with your nails caressing the skin of his spine.
when it's that time, before he's too old to make sensible decisions, he'll write out instructions to whoever will take care of you when he leaves. he'll be the one to die first, he doesn't like the idea of living without you. he'll make sure to write in bold letters that you don't like tomatoes or onions, and that you need to be reminded to drink at least two cups of water a day because you're forgetful like that.
he'll buy the two of you shared graves, matching caskets. of course he leaves your side of the grave blank, you'll live on to live without him for many more years despite your horrible diet consisting mainly of soda and candy.
you'll pass away in your sleep, painless and unaware, warm and tucked in the bed you used to share with him. then, you'll join him in the afterlife, slapping and hitting him for leaving you "so early".
bakugou's eyes reopen to his supervisor bidding him farewell, telling him his shift is open and go home and rest. he makes his way home, cussing out the train station workers when his train is delayed by 5 minutes.
when he gets finally gets home, he sets down the teddy bear he bought you on your side of the bed, careful to not awake you. he strips himself of his hero suit, debating whether or not to sleep and then take a shower later, or to take a shower now and then sleep.
you answer for him, sitting up from the bed to sleepily wrap your arms around the small of his waist, the same waist you were cussing him out over due to jealousy. you pull him onto the bed, mumbling little "i miss you"s while also damning him to hell for working so late.
you ignore the fact he smells like shit, that he's dirty and needs to take a shower. instead, you glide your pedicured nails that he paid for over the exposed skin of his shoulders, making their way up his nape then to his hair. he practically purrs at the goosebumps that rise on his skin, his eyes fluttering shut with the way you're lulling him to sleep against his will like you always do.
as he gives in to the heavy weight of sleep, his mind comes back to that wonderful dream he had. though, it goes away once he does fall asleep. he doesn't mind, after all, you're both still young and barely 20. you two have many years ahead, and hopefully, you'll be spending those years with him.
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please repost with tags :)
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jakesangel · 9 months ago
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jake staring at you part 1 ><
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jake loves staring at u. either when you guys are having dinner, facing each other, him looking at your pretty features highlighted by your makeup, or you getting ready. he finds amazing how you can become impossibly prettier w makeup but he will forever prefer the raw version of you. but it will never stop him to look at you.
when you get ready, putting on your clothes his brain stop n only his eyes has the capability to work. he knows he must look stupid, eyes focused on your figure n mouth wide open but he can't help it, you're just so pretty. and he absolutely adores when u get in front of the mirror to check yourself out. he always gets up and follows you like a puppy, wrapping his arm around your waist still staring, this time thru the mirror. how can he dare to even blink when he having the scenery of his life. he stays there for a for while closely behind you, still staring. he would always moves his head to place it right in the crook of your neck n this time he moves his eyes to reflect of your eyes, kissing n stroking whatever skin he can feel on your stomach. he holds eyes contact w you n finally kiss your neck. you're so pretty, my body is moving on its on, he says eyes still on you. he moves up a bit, kissing the skin right under your jaw my baby is so pretty, how did i get this lucky. he would hen add.
and this time he dares to stop looking at you to turn you around, making you twirl, so you can face him n to him you look even prettier without the mirror between his eyes n your beauty. the mirror doesn't do you justice, my love his hand moving to your hair putting it behind your ear. lemme see how you do your makeup, mmh ?ᩚ
he would then have you on his lap, you straddling him as you do your makeup. he would have his hand all over you, not being able to control himself. you'd have to slap him here n there so he can let you do your thing, but what can you do ? jake loves you. you could also try to have a convo w him but his mind is full of youn only you, the most he can do is either whisper pretty words or kiss you where and when he can. so you just do your thing n he is there to watch you.
it always takes him a bit of time to get of this headspace, it would happen not until you guys reach the front door to finally go to your date. and it's finally there he finally fully kisses you on the lips. a kiss you both where longing for.
notes : this is just part 1 >< i think i'll make three part, as stated before he also stares during dinners ᵎᵎ but i will be making another one or two if i'm getting inspired ^___^
part 2
@kareyuns @jaeyunpinkyring @imaluckygirl @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @luvj4key
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tuesdaykiss · 1 month ago
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“touching toes”
rafe cameron social media au
“he’s over more and more, had to give him a whole drawer. to be honest, kinda like seeing his trainers by the door.” — olivia dean, ‘touching toes’.
synopsis: after finishing her fashion studies at college in nyc, y/n moves to outerbanks to live with her grandparents. she worries about the loneliness that comes with being in a new place, knowing only her cousin topper and other relatives… that is until she is acquainted with a certain cameron.
part — 4 | 5 | 6
masterlist
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your phone
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you sat cross-legged on the living room couch, staring into a space of nothingness. inviting rafe cameron over was a bold move, for you — how would sarah react? better yet, how would your cousin react? knots twisted in your stomach as you waited for his arrival, your anticipation running wild.
there was a part of you that regrets this decision already. what were you thinking? but here you are, your heart skipping a beat at the littlest of sounds: you’re on edge.
despite the looming feeling that this was a bad idea, there was an undeniable thrill that washed over you. maybe that’s why you’d asked him in the first place — your curiosity getting the better of you, you wanted to know more about him.
time moved slowly, and you couldn’t help but wonder how this will play out…
your story
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sarahcameron replied to your story:
hottttt
jjmaybank replied to your story:
there she is!
kiaracarrera and itscleo liked your story
your phone
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boredom had gotten the better of you, as you awaited the arrival of the oldest cameron sibling… logging back into your twitter, you had swore you’d never use again (hating the toxicity it brought with it).
having lied to sarah about your plans of the night, you couldn’t help but feel a slight shred of guilt. but, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. like rafe said, “none of their business”.
as you were conjuring up a new ‘welcome back’ tweet, the door bell sounded. a soft ring splitting through the silence of the house… he was here.
eagerly you jumped from the couch, nerves buzzing under your skin as you quickly checked your reflection in the mirror opposite you. in attempt to steady yourself, you took a deep breath before heading for the door.
there he stood, ever so casually as the warm glow of the outdoor lights located on your front lawn illuminated his features, highlighting the smirk that tugged at his lips.
“hey,” his voice was low, almost a whisper, but laced thick with confidence.
for a moment, your head leaned against the doorframe, giving you a second to admire the man in front of you — piercing eyes, hair falling across his forehead causing a slight blush to creep on your cheeks. then, without another word, you stepped aside, a silent gesture of invitation.
before allowing himself to venture further into the house, he removed his trainers and placed the by the door. his small action of politeness caused you to smile.
your camera roll (the next morning)
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a/n: rn i’m onto part 5 and have only published part 1… anyways, thoughts?
added in a link to the song 😉😉😉
i’m also like why did i make sarah famous pls, but i just wanted fans to comment… anyways if we don’t hear from sarahupdates for a while it’s bc y/n and rafe are my focus!
taglist: @my-name-is-baby
(let me know if you want to be added!)
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