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dckweed · 2 months ago

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ROSIE!, alpha!simon riley x omega reader

in which captain price sends alpha simon on a much needed vacation to his secluded countryside cabin, but leaves out a most important detail- he has a live in omega caretaker to care for his little cabin when he’s away! and she’s the prettiest, sweetest little thing that simon ever did see..

warnings: alpha/omega universe, mentions/depictions of abuse, smut, pregnancy, kind of forced proximity?, ill add as i go...please note that i know NOTHING about COD but i am in love with the 141 guys and this has been rotting in my brain.

this will be a series, as well as there will be side stories for gaz, soap and captain price!

part one: over the garden wall and to the stream to die

It was a pretty day, the sun shone brightly down on your typically pale skin, staining it a light shade of red (you’ll loathe yourself later for not wearing sunscreen, cheeks, neck and shoulders red despite your large gardening hat that you put on for shade), it twinged a bit, but you didn’t mind. You were enjoying the garden, it had become lush and full over the past couple of weeks, the sun (despite its wrath on your skin) feeding the various plants and bushes with its light, making everything vibrant and fragrant. You were making your own arrangement of flowers, picking up some yellow roses and a few pansies, in hopes that it would make the kitchen of the cabin all the more cheery for the guest that would be arriving that day.

You had received a message from your boss (for lack of a better word for the alpha that employed you to live in his home) the night before about an arrival, a guest come to lay low and spend the summer. You assume it’s another Alpha, one of the lot he had told you he worked with on his little task force and while it makes you nervous to be alone with an unmated Alpha that you don’t know, you know that John wouldn’t put you in any danger knowingly. With trust in the man that sent you a fat lump of money every other week, you had no qualms about welcoming the unnamed guest into the cabin.

You had already turned down the guest bed, fresh linen adorning the mattress, and tidied up the whole house, and you even had a plate of fresh cinnamon rolls baked from scratch sitting out on the small table in the kitchen and it wasn’t even noon yet. Anticipation was beginning to eat you alive, a nervousness settling into your muscles that just made you ache for something to keep you occupied (a trait that got you many a beating by your papa’s hands when you were growing up, his voice still in your head calling you an annoying runt as he took the belt to any part of you it would reach), you hum as you continue to work, the pale blue of your pretty little sundress getting dusted by dirt every time you crouched down, your bare knees covered in the black soil of the garden. You didn’t mind, you liked the way the sun felt on your skin and the ground beneath you, you went for so long without feeling either that you would embrace both happily without complaint.

Your bouquet was slowly becoming a large bunch, beautiful petals hanging over the edge of your little wicker basket that you brought along to carry the trimmings back inside in, not wanting to squish them in your hand the whole time, and you were just snipping through the last of a beautiful rose stem when you heard the garden gate squeak open, you pop your head above the bushes and look, eyes met immediately with a hulking form of an alpha, his forearms laden with a large duffle bag and a mask pulled over his eyes.

“Who the ‘ell are you?” They’re brown and beautiful and they’re narrowed at you, looking about you, deciding if you’re a threat or not. Just like the rest of his body, his voice is thick and strong and deep. It verberates in your brain, the sound of his voice rattling around in there. Your breath catches and your cheeks flush and you have to avert your eyes, the little wolf in your brain barking at the sight of this man standing before you in the garden.

‘He’s so strong, so pretty, look at him, look at him, look at him!’

“‘Ello?!” You jump, swallowing a thick lump in your throat, that nervousness in your body boiling up. The only thing that comes out at first is a squeak, and you close your eyes, cheeks flushing even farther. “You mute or somethin’ there Rosie?” A dig at the color of your cheeks you’re sure because there’s no way that he knew that that was what John and everyone else you’d ever met had taken to calling you if he didn’t know who you were.

“I-um-..” What was wrong with you? “I..live here..” That was it? That was all you could come up with? ‘Not even your fucking name?’

“Like ‘ell you do.” Your bottom lip quivered, the gruffness of his voice scarring you more than you already were. Your knees shook but you straightened yourself up otherwise, your fathers voice ringing in your head about how spineless you were.

“I do. I’m sure you’re the guest that Alpha John told me was coming, but he certainly didn’t mention how rude you were!” You huff, turning on your bare heel to stomp your way through the garden and back to the cabin, though you wanted nothing more than to climb over the garden wall and drown yourself in the stream not too far off from the house. Oh how badly you wanted to die from the embarrassment, but even more so you wanted to throw your bouquet of flowers to the ground and stamp on them, throw your fresh baked cinnamon rolls into the bin even, all of the things that you had done for the mans arrival to make the cabin nice and inviting and relaxing and all he could do upon meeting you was make fun of your reddened skin, flushed from embarrassment! Alpha’s could be brutes, you knew, but they didn’t have to be so rude!

‘Oh but cut him some slack, he’s so pretty, he looks tired..maybe he just needs a hot meal in his belly and his dick sucked..’ You gasp at the voice of your wolf, never had she been so crude! “No!” You shouted both in your mind and outloud, slamming your wicker basket down onto the wooden top of the island as you went about searching for the kitchen shears, not even bothering to listen to see if the man was following you. ‘Did you see how thick his thighs were? His arms? I bet he could hold us up with ease-’

There’s a shuffling of footsteps behind you and a clearing of a throat that interrupts your wolfs inner monologue. You turn around, not to acknowledge the Alpha standing in the doorway of the kitchen, the light of the sun shining brightly behind him through the open door, but to grab the fresh bunch of flowers you’d so graciously picked for the beast. They were beautiful, you didn’t have it in you to not trim up the stems and put them in a pretty vase.

You keep your eyes planted on the work at hand, trimming each stem one by one and setting it off to the side. He shuffles in that spot for a moment longer, but you don’t look at him like you know he wants. He huffs after a few more seconds and you hear his footsteps taking him up the stairs, the smell of him wafting so strongly through your nose as he passes by you to get to them that you have to grip the edge of the counter so tightly your knuckles turn white. Your wolf nearly taking control of you completely, wanting to follow him. She’s chanting in your head about his smell and how she just wants to drop to her knees for him, let him do whatever he so pleased as long as it made him happy.

She had felt that way about Alpha John at one point in time too, and just like that, you knew it would pass and she would calm down once she got used to his presence.

You would just have to ignore her until then. You were good at that, ignoring her. Your father had beat it into your head because you were an omega that you were nothing, that you didn’t even deserve a wolf, and you had believed him. Had ignored her and your natural instincts for more than half of your life, until John came along. Until he saved you. And now here you were, living in his home, making it nice and homey and putting meals on the table for a man whose name you didn’t even know.

Wasn’t that a funny thing?

Heavy footsteps echo above you as you work, and you begin humming, attempting to shut him and the annoying second voice out of your head. You take your time as you arranged the bundle of flowers, you had picked such a big bunch that you had enough for two full arrangements and you were just placing one of them in the middle of the round table that sat by the stairs in the kitchen when you heard his footsteps coming back down, a heavy pitter patter that sent your heart racing, but you were ready to face him now, to welcome him into the cabin. You suppose your wolf was right, he needed a hot meal, and who were you to turn away from cooking someone in need a good belly full of food?

He clears his throat again when he comes off the bottom step, from your peripheral you can tell that he’s fully facing you, large meaty hands on his thick, muscled hips. He wore a dark green tshirt that stretched so tightly over his muscly chest that you were sure it would rip, and it hung just barely above the waistline of his jeans, that fit him so snugly you weren’t sure how they hadn’t ripped already.

“Listen, lovie, s’pose I was a bit rude back there, yeah?” You say nothing, but look up at him fully now, making eye contact as your hands still fidget with the glass vase you had set so neatly in the middle of the table. “‘name’s Simon..I work with your Alpha..”

“S’not my Alpha.” You say pointedly, and under the mask he still wears you can tell a smile is spread across his face at your words. “And neither are you, so don’t go getting your hopes up. You’ll be keeping your big paws to yourself while you’re here, or i’ll be telling John.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He says, his body seeming to relax now that you’ve spoken a full sentence to him. “What can I call you?”

You sigh, cheeks heating. “Ironically, most people call me Rosie.” You say, turning away. You didn’t know what your actual name was, your father had never called you anything but Runt or Omega, and your siblings always followed in his suit. You were content to go by whatever John wanted to call you whenever he finally came to your rescue, who were you to argue with the man who had saved you?

“These for anyone?” He’s pointing to the plate of cinnamon rolls when you look over your shoulder, setting the second vase on the window above the kitchen sink.

“Help yourself.” Your voice is soft, gentle, a smile spreading when you begin to talk about the food you had made. “Made them from scratch, strawberry cream cheese icing and everything!”

He moans as he bites into them, and you’re sure he’s putting on a big show as a form of apology but either way it prickles you in the best way and puts a big happy grin on your face. “Jesus lovie,” He groans. “I’m gonna be fat by the time i leave, arent i?”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #alpha simon riley #alpha simon riley smut #simon riley smut #john price #COD #141 #task force 141 #cod au

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jobean12-blog · 4 months ago

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Burn for You

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Even though you know Marcus would protect you with his very last breath you still want to learn to defend yourself but what will your husband say when you ask him to teach you?

Author's Note: Just another little story in our happy world where everyone is on the same side and friends haha. This is a stand alone story that I couldn't resist after seeing the new snippets from the movie- and then Pedro himself posts the sword gif and I died all over again. How dare he? It's so hot🔥🫠Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: fun and flirty and tense, he's always soft and perfect, semi public sex, smut, they just can't get enough of each other.

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The gold trimmed linen falls over his bare skin, and you smooth your hands down his chest to straighten it.

“When are you going to teach me how to wield a sword General?”

You reach for the fascia, gently placing it over his leg before starting to secure it. When his silence drags on you look up from your kneeling position.

“Are you trying to think of some filthy thing to say right now?” you tease. “I am on my knees.”

The corner of his mouth lifts into a mischievous smirk.

“If I didn’t know how much you loved being in that position, I might have something more to say…”

“But…” you finish for him as you slowly slide up his body and meet his eyes.

“Your question has surprised me.”

You take his cuirass and press it to his chest with more force than is necessary.

“And why is that husband?” you ask through clenched teeth.

As you begin to tug on the leather strings at his sides he grabs both your wrists, grasping them in one hand and pulling you against his chest, while the fingers of his other press under your chin and hold your gaze to his.

“You think I do not believe you capable?” he asks with his brows drawn in.

“Why else would you not teach me?” you huff.

“Like my heart, body and soul, you have my sword until my last breath and forever after,” he whispers against your lips.

Your expression softens and you press your fingertips to his jaw, delicately tracing the scar just above the dark hair that lines his cheek.

“I know Marcus…”

“But…” he says, echoing your earlier sentiment.

“I wish to learn. I am strong. And I want to be able to defend myself.”

He remains quiet still, releasing your wrists and smoothing his calloused fingers along the curve of your shoulder.

“I could ask Lucius instead…” you start to muse.

“You will not,” he growls.

“He may not have the same reservations you have…whatever they may be.”

Your tone is cheeky as you press yourself closer to him, dancing your fingers down his side to give the leather straps of his cuirass a sharp tug.

He grunts lightly before his lips turn up into a smile.

“As you wish my love,” he murmurs. “I will teach you to wield a weapon.”

“Excellent,” you whisper, loosening your grip and reaching for the Manica to adorn his forearms.

He stops you with a firm hand and you raise a brow.

“On one condition…”

“And what is that?” you ask.

“You will train with me and only me. No other will come near you, touch you.”

“Of course,” you say with a lift of your chin. “Only you.”

He dips his head, the tip of his nose brushing yours as he presses you against his body.

“How much time do we have?” he mumbles, kissing you, chaste and soft.

He pulls back, licks his lips, and moves forward again, moaning softly against your mouth.

“Marcus,” you chide but it’s lacking vigor, coming out breathier and desperate.

When his hips rock you feel him, hard and ready and it’s like someone lights a match inside your chest and you curl your fingers into the edges of his cuirass and push him back toward the wall.

The draped fabric at your waist falls open and you gasp as cool air finds your skin where you’re wet and aching.

His roughened palm slides down your stomach and his fingers slip between your legs.

“Want to taste this,” he whispers, dragging the tip of his fingers in and out.

“Ah General Acacius. So good of you to grace us with your presence,” Lucius jokes, his eyes twinkling.

The other men stifle their laughter, clearing throats and shuffling feet when Marcus glares at them menacingly.

You step out from behind Marcus and smile at Lucius, whose surprised expression quickly transforms into one of mischief.

“Do we have a new trainee today General?” Lucius asks with a smirk.

Marcus ignores him and deftly twirls the sword between his fingers as he walks along the row of gladiators.

“My wife…, he begins, “wishes to learn how to fight.”

You can see that the men are trying to restrain their shock, and you meet each of their gazes, holding your head high and your shoulders poised.

“You will not touch her or even come near her,” he continues. “She will train with me and only me.”

Marcus turns his covetous eyes to you, dragging them over every inch of your skin that glistens under the warm sun.

With a hard swallow he gets into position and instructs the men on what to practice, giving Lucius control of the group so he can work with you.

“That will keep them busy for now,” he says quietly as he moves toward you, circling.

He stops behind you, pressing his chest to your back and slowly sliding his hand down from your shoulder to your wrist. Despite the heat, goosebumps crawl along your skin, and you feel his smile at your neck.

“Focus my beloved,” he murmurs. “You will not win any fights if you are distracted.”

The urge to throw your elbow back and into his side is strong but you refrain and strengthen your wrist.

He places the sword in your hand and maneuvers your fingers into the right position, keeping his hand over yours as he shows you the proper grip.

Every word of command is whispered into your ear and every touch of his hand is both soft and firm. Even with his impressive size and strength, he moves lithely, easily disarming you at every turn.

It frustrates you, motivates you but more than anything, and to your utter exasperation, it arouses you.

“Marcus.” You call his name while in a particularly precarious position and he quickly stands and takes you with him, his gaze concerned as it sweeps over your body.

“Are you hurt?” he asks.

“No,” you say with a dismissive wave of your hand.

He waits for you to elaborate and you step closer. “Perhaps you should work with the men now. I think Lucius bores them.”

His lips tilt upward at your teasing, but he continues to study you carefully.

“Do you need a break then?”

“Perhaps I can work on my stance with Lucius,” you suggest.

His eyes narrow. “We made a deal.”

“I know,” you tell him with a quiet sigh.

Then with resignation you throw back your shoulders and get into position. “I’m ready to continue.”

His body heat at your back sends another wave of tension through your body and when his calloused fingertips ghost along your thigh to fix its position you have to fight back a gasp.

“Relax your muscles,” he says as he presses on your shoulders and lower back.

You let out a slow exhale and try to focus on his direction instead of his touch, but the way his voice is low and deep in your ear drags you right back to your lascivious thoughts.

When he’s satisfied with your positioning he moves in front of you, twirling his sword tauntingly and though his forearms are hidden under the armor adorning his wrists you know the muscles flex and shift enticingly.

He beckons to you, and you advance, remembering the foot work well and making good use of your sword.

But before you can make any real progress he has you on your back and beneath him, the sandy dirt rising and floating around your head as you stare up into his face.

“You are doing well,” he assures you, sensing your frustration. “Remember, it is only your first day.”

Sweat coats his brow and you watch a droplet roll down his temple and along the line of his beard. It settles on his upper lip and the desire to lean up and kiss him is overwhelming. His scent surrounds you, sweat and leather, and his touch burns.

“Marcus,” you breathe out.

“My love,” he answers, pushing up and offering you a hand.

You crash into his chest, your eyes dropping to his mouth and your lips parting. “I need you.”

It takes him only a split second to realize the meaning of your words and his head dips to your ear, his growl full of promise.

“Do you need me to fill you my love?”

You barely get your words of affirmation out when he grabs your hand and pulls you away from the training circle.

“Lucius, you can finish off the training for today. I have to see…to my wife.”

Your quarters are too far away, and you tell him so, letting him lead you to an underground alcove in the basilica nearby.

He kisses you until your back hits the cold stone wall and you can feel every inch of armor and cloth that separates your bodies.

His hands grip your face, thumbs pressing urgently into your skin as he kisses you until you’re lightheaded.

Few rays of sunlight pierce the recesses below and you’re bathed in a soft darkness, hidden, but with the sounds of the world going on right above you.

It reminds you that there are other people on this Earth beyond his kisses, his frantic hands, and the way he can’t seem to get you close enough.

Your armor becomes untied, and you reach under his, tugging at whatever you can find to loosen it. Cloth and linen floats to your feet and his fingers skim the curve of your waist, dipping between your legs.

“Fingers Marcus,” you gasp.

He swears, two fingers sliding deep.

Your hips rock into his hand and you hold onto his broad shoulders, on the edge of something that starts in your stomach and slips up along your spine.

You cry out, too loud and breathing so heavy you might pass out.

“I’m so close Marcus,” you whisper. “I want you inside me.”

His eyes lift from between your legs, and you take him in; messy curls, fallen over his damp forehead and sticking to it, his body shining with a light sheen of sweat and dust clinging to his skin.

You almost come at the sight of him. He feels you tighten around his fingers and pulls them free with another curse.

His knee parts your legs and you feel the head of his cock as it slides through you and you’re so wet that with just the smallest push forward he starts to slip inside.

With a grunt, he tucks his head into your neck, takes deep, steadying breaths.

“I need a moment,” he murmurs and holds your hips still.

He straightens, reaching a hand over your shoulder to brace it on the stone wall.

“You feel too good,” he whispers, pulling out and pushing back in slowly. “Too perfect.”

He builds a rhythm, hips rocking against yours, the sound of his armor thudding into yours as he fucks you.

His hand reaches up, holds your face as his thumb traces your lips, the taste of you lingering on his fingers.

“I want to watch you come,” he says, dark eyes moving across your face.

You wrap your arms around his neck, the muscles strained and tight with his restraint, pulling him harder to you.

“Say it,” he growls.

“I want it harder.”

His lips brush yours and he nibbles the lower one, tugging and then soothing with his tongue.

“And…?” he asks, knowing there’s more you want to say. More that you need.

“I want someone to hear us. I want them to know how good you feel.”

He grunts and grips your waist tightly before he starts slamming hard and slick into you.

Voices echo above, the sounds of feet and horse hooves growing louder.

“More Marcus,” you cry out.

You feel so full and stretched and the tight feeling in your stomach grows warmer and hotter until your head falls back against the stone, and you moan out his name as you come.

He follows right after, his movements becoming jagged and frantic before finally stilling with a muffled groan into your skin.

You lean into him, catching your breath and letting your fingers wander over the dips and curves of muscle in his back.

He lifts his head and immediately searches for your mouth, sealing his lips to yours.

When he pulls back his eyes are ablaze, and a smile pulls at his lips.

“What?” you ask, trembling when his fingertips skim along your collarbone, strong but gentle.

They ghost higher, to the hollow of your throat where your pulse beats wildly still, before closing lightly around your neck.

Your breath hitches.

“Was it the fighting that aroused you so?” he asks, pressing his thumb under your chin while he still holds your neck. “Or…?”

You swallow and lick your lips.

“You know what it was General,” you whisper.

“I want to hear you say it.”

He’s still inside you and he starts to thicken, the throb making your eyelashes flutter along your cheeks.

“You, General. It is you. Always you that fills me with an unquenchable need.”

“Then it is a good thing my hunger for you will never be sated,” he whispers as he begins to slowly rock his hips.

#marcus acacius x reader #pedro pascal #marcus acacius #pedro pascal characters #general marcus acacius #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius smut #marcus acacius x female reader #marcus acacius fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #marcus acacius x y/n #general acacius #gladiator 2 #marcus acacius imagine

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pearlzier · 5 months ago

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────⠀ ⠀AT THE FAIRGROUND w/ SOLDIER BOY.

NOTES .ᐣ idea came from the loveliest @sl33pylilbunny :3 this is SO cute i love it so much ohmygosh. used a jellycat cause i love em n want one really bad.

"i'll win y'every single thing in this damn place if it'll get you to stop whinin' 'bout it," ben grumbles as he stares down the plush toy stuck within its glass enclosure. it's taunting him, taunting you. those beady black eyes.. it knows exactly what it's doing. and ben'll be damned if he loses to a fucking teddy bear with a pumpkin for a body. he'd beat countless of threats before—a teddy bear was nothing. and besides, you'd been giving the thing the softest, most adoring googly eyes from the moment you'd seen it. which was approximately.. almost an hour ago.

the staring was fine, sure, but the moment you started begging him to win it for you, for a good ten minutes? yeah, he has to get it over and done with, he realised. after the fifth, "ben, please, it's half teddy bear half pumpkin," he'd been practically sprinting across the fairground to make it to the infamous claw machine holding your future plush toy hostage. that toy would be yours, he'd make sure of it. it has to be.

he also wanted to prove the stories wrong, the ones saying that the claw machine was 'unbeatable' or that it took only luck to win it. he's soldier boy, for fuck's sake. "which one you want again, sweetheart?" he sighed, scratching the back of his neck momentarily. ben knew exactly what you wanted but he wanted to see the twinkle in your eyes when you mentioned it.

your brows raise skeptically for a minute when he asks, but a soft smile settles on your lips. "that one right there," you hum, "teddy bear, pumpkin body, it's literally perfect, oh my god," ben just watches you for a minute, a scoff escaping him. though the corners of his lips flit up at the sight of you and he sighs, "yeah, yeah, i got it. just watch 'n' learn." he gestured for you to step back a little bit, so he could work his magic.

honestly? anyone else looking on would've been so confused to see a guy like ben winning a stuffed toy. or at a fairground in the first place. he'd been totally reluctant, actually—it's not exactly his kind of fun but it is yours. he was wrapped around your finger wholeheartedly, he'd do every damn thing you asked him to. even if he wouldn't admit it, even if it was a little embarrassing for him. so dragging him to the fairground wasn't difficult at all when it came down to it.

and he had to admit, it was pretty cool here. it's halloween themed, with all the trimmings—haunted house, kids in cute costumes, the music. it almost makes him nostalgic, in a way. going on the rides was a lot of fun too, seeing the way you screamed and shriek when the two of you went on the drop tower was so much fucking fun.

"stop being a pussy—! holy fucking shit, this is it, it's over—"

what he didn't want to admit was the way he was also screaming and shrieking everytime the gondola got dropped. despite how he denied it, those photos you'd gotten on the way out completely corroborate your statement and destroyed his. those'd be perfect for your wallet, you knew. and y'know what'd be even better for like, your life, just, in general? that teddy bear.

"people say these things are rigged," ben starts, rubbing his hands together as if that's summoning the power he needs to beat the machine.

you stare at the back of his head for a moment, a skeptical sound escaping you. an interesting take from ben, sure, but everyone knows he has a lot of those. "is that not because they literally are rigged?" your words are amused, and you full on laugh when he pins you with that unamused look of his own. "just saying," your shoulders shrug, a smile playing on your lips at the sight of him.

"gotta have faith, baby," he tells you, deciding not to actually address what you'd said in favour of channeling any and all energy towards winning you the toy. "with all this strength o'mine it's gonna work," ben murmurs, holding onto the joystick like it owes him money. you won't be surprised if it does end up owing him money considering the odds of a claw machine like this one.

if he didn't manage to win the teddy bear, you wouldn't mind all that much. sure, you wanted it, but at the same time, the dedication that ben had to do it for you would've been enough. but also, you knew you wouldn't be leaving that damn machine without a pumpkin teddy bear in your hands. "you see, it's all in the technique."

"technique, huh?" you muse, moving a little closer to stand beside him and watch for a moment, hands moving into the pockets of your jacket. well, his jacket. you'd taken it since it was warm and smelt exactly like his cologne. "yeah, technique," ben nods, completely serious, not an ounce of sarcasm in his tone compared to yours. "told y'to watch 'n' learn, so watch 'n' learn," he cleared his throat, before his brow furrowed in concentration.

your watching and learning soon became watch and learn how to get narrowly close to being banned from a fairground. you're pretty sure the amount of profanities that came out of ben over the past.. probably ten minutes is enough to get the two of you thrown out considering how many children are nearby. might get a record for the most mothers covering their childrens' ears at this rate.

"ben, it's okay, i can just buy one off the websi—"

"you're getting this fucking bear tonight, darlin'," everytime you'd tried to convince him it was okay, that you guys could go get burgers and fries and call it a day, he told you that the two of you wouldn't be moving from there. "almost got it.. almost.." his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, as he inserted another coin into the machine. this time the joystick actually owed him money. and the thirty other times, but that didn't matter now.

you zone out a little bit now, assuming this'd be like the aformentioned thirty other times, where he'd spewed out obscenities, then proceeded to shove another coin into the machine like nothing had happened prior. ben had assured you this was his 'method' and everything was happening according to plan. he'd never exactly been great at planning, but there you were.

"i told you!" that snaps you out of your thoughts, and much to your surprise, when you look up, there's a teddy bear with a pumpkin for a body in ben's hands. he's beaming like an idiot, so proud of himself even if he'd been acting previously like he wasn't even breaking a sweat. he wipes his forehead, some sweat having accumulated from how hard he was working. a little concerning, considering it was a pretty cold day, but.. the dedication.

"oh my god, ben!" you're practically squealing, looking between him and the teddy bear back and forth rapidly before you find yourself wrapping your arms around the two of them. subtly tucking the toy by his armpit, he eases his arms around you in return. a smug smile settles on his lips, his head cocking to the side momentarily to get a full look of you so happy and clinging to his figure.

"just doin' what i gotta do, y'know," ben shrugs, his free hand cradling the back of your head gently. the two of you were completely blocking the claw machine from anyone else, some kid standing there awkwardly since he wanted to use it, but he decided you two were having a bit of a moment so he thought maybe the haunted house was a better choice. "you uh.. really like that thing, huh?"

"like you a lot more, actually," you mumble, grasping at his face and drawing him closer so you can peck your lips to his own. his eyes widen for a minute, and before he gets the chance to melt in more, you pull back. he pouts, glancing around a minute. it made sense, yeah, this is a fairground, but still. can't leave a guy hanging like that. he sighs, "had me workin' real hard there. think the least a guy can get is some good food, right?"

you hummed for a moment in mock thought. as if you were gonna say no and make him win another plush toy. he quite literally would've lost his mind if you'd asked him to. luckily, you nodded, "okay, yeah. burgers?" you offer too, head tilting.

"and fries, can't forget 'em," he murmured, nodding his head in return. before he walked with you to the food stands, he reached for the teddy bear and pushed it into your hands gently. a soft smile played on his lips, "yeah, now we're ready. c'mon, m'fuckin' starvin'."

ִ ֹ ★ @blue-d, @dayzeandhaze, @gibson-g1rl, @stevelacylovebot, @psychicnatural, @funkycoloured, @lovesickgrlsrh0t, @soldierboycunt, @hrtsoldierboy, @beetlejenna, @venusiers, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @pr3ttyf4wn, @pillwebb, @beridollie, @sincerebabydoll, @angelicjackles, @sweetrelieef, @deansbite, @morganwrites12672, @chevroletdean, @fallbhind ִ ��

#𐙚˙ ana writes ⋆.˚#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy fluff #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles #jensen ackles fluff #the boys #the boys x reader

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writingoddess1125 · 1 year ago

Text

You take care of their hair

You x One Peice Characters

Support me on Ko-Fi

Luffy, Buggy, Mihawk, Sanji, Zoro, Usopp

Buggy

Buggy hair is long and truthfully very beautiful. He takes pride in it secretly even if he doesn't let anyone know- When you get there and start taking care of his hair it flourishes.

"You have such pretty hair!" Yoj gush as you moisturize the long blue locks

"SHUT UP!"

He is like a l'oreal model at this point and will step out to do shows with his hair down sometimes. Loves it when you wash his hair too and will make cute noises when you scratch his scalp. Enjoys the nice scents you add to his hair as well.

"Oi- I like the Candy Apple scent more-"

Sanji

Oh Sanji is a sap for this, Taking your willingness to care for his hair as a show of love- however that's for you to decide if it is.

"If this is how we say we love each other I gladly accept~"

His hair can be a bit tricky, It's a lot thicker then most would assume and can hold scents of whatever he was cooking. Paired with the fact his hair will be lighter on top compared to the bottom due to the sun bleaching it. However he does love it and finds cleanliness important.

"Vanilla please my love~"

Luffy

He is a struggle- Getty Luffy lanky ass in the bath is a pain in the ass and washing his hair is even more troubling. His wide curls like just act as a magnet for everything it seems and you have to go picking through it.

"Is this a damn cookie?!"

Once you get his hair to be a untangled it's really pretty. Dark shiny curls that reflect the sunlight like a halo. While he still fussed he's more willing as time goes. Will randomly talk about whatever comes to mind, or eat snacks as you comb through his hair.

"I like the Ocean Breeze soap more (Y/N)"

Zoro

Oh Zoro- He tries to dodge you every chance he gets. It takes you catching him when he was hiding in the storage closet and ended up falling asleep.

"You smell like a barn- Move you ass..." You will threaten. Making him grumbled but comply non the less.

He's just as bad as Luffy but will just sit and pout as you wash his hair. Luckily it's short but it can get very oily- especially with how much he trains. You will also help him trim his hair, keeping it as even as possible. While he doesn't say it, he does appreciate the care. Will fall asleep as you do his hair.

"Mint- Mint is fine..."

Usopp

While you do wash his locs for him most of your time is spent separating and retwisting them. Buying good oils for his hair and spending a least and few solid hours retwisting the new growth on his hair.

"How does your hair grow so fast?!"

You question as you sort through the locs one by one and every two weeks washing them and reapply products to them. Usopp appreciates the help truthfully, since it takes away something he has to do for himself. He will tell stories as you do his hair, talking about made up adventures and tell jokes.

"Hmm I am tied between the Coconut scent or the Passionfruit both remind me of this amazing adventure I had once-"

He picks both.

Mihawk

Mihawk is used to doing his own hair, smoothing it back to fit under his had with ease. However when your jolly ass appears it seems you must take control of the situation.

He doesn't mind however, enjoying the pampering. Enjoys the sensation of you running your fingers through his hair. His Hair needs some serious moisture so you add a small bit of oil to it, Especially since his hair is surprisingly thick, dense and likes to frizz. It's not surprising to find some fuzzies from his hat in his hair as well.

"Your hair spikes up so much- Like a chicken ass-"

Will grumble in disagreement of the comparison however continues to let you handle his hair, will also take care of his beard and adds nice beard balms as well as line it up for him- If he feels like letting you. Will read while you do it and sip his favorite wine.

"The bergamot scent is very nice-

#x reader #one piece imagine #one peice live action #one peice x reader #one piece zoro #one piece sanji #one piece luffy #one piece usopp #dracule mihawk #zoro roronoa x reader #sanji x reader #usopp x reader #luffy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x reader

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xxblairexxss · 2 years ago

Text

Breaking news

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x girlfriend!reader

Your Instagram story caused a commotion amongst the fans

ynusername has added to their story

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

You had connected the call to your car so you could talk to him while driving home because you didn’t know if you could see the hair saloon again without crying even more. You put on the signal before turning the steering wheel as you sobbed, your boyfriend’s question left hanging in the air.

“Are you okay? Where are you? Do you want me to pick you up?”

“N– no, I’m already on my way back.” You sobbed again.

“Want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“Yes– yes, please. I can’t stop crying!” You wailed and looked at the rear view mirror before switching lane.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I don’t know what happened but as long as you are already on your way back, it’ll be fine.”

Soon as you took off your sneakers, Charles opened the door and pulled you into a hug. You were no longer crying because you had accepted your fate at this point.

“Are you hurt? What happened?”

Breaking the hug, you took a step back, your bottom lips jutting out.

“What? Baby, talk to me. What happened?”

You twirled and cried out. “They cut my hair too short! How can you not see it!”

Charles’s breathe was stuck in his throat. He had been walking back and forth, waiting for you to come back home wondering if the worst thing happened. This, wasn’t in any of those thoughts he had in mind.

“You were crying because they cut your hair too short?” His voice trailed off as he stared at you in disbelief.

“I have never had my hair this short before!”

“You were crying because of this?”

You glowered at his question and paced to the room, leaving him alone while he was still in incredulity. He didn’t even realise there was any changes to your hair because as soon as he saw you, his eyes went to scan on your body for any injuries or maybe some bruises. It never occurred to him it would be something lighter than the all the scenarios he had in his head.

“Baby? You wanna talk about it?” Charles walked in and grinned, trying to act as if he couldn’t see the glare from you.

“I asked them to trim it shorter but not this short, just slightly around my chest but they just cut it right away and I was too scared to say anything.”

“You still look beautiful though.” He could still see the little dots of tears hanging on your lashes as he stared at you in admiration.

“Liar! You are only saying that to make me feel better.”

“I swear! You look beautiful. Trust me.” He tilted your face to look at him and smiled as he studied your face. “See? You’ll always be beautiful, baby. Even if one day you decide to be bald, I’m still gonna find you beautiful.”

“I hate you.”

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and 225,637 others

ynusername how it started vs how it ended

charles_leclerc Still the prettiest girl ever ❤️

username1 new hairrr?!?!

username2 girl we need story time

username3 you should have seen twitter and gossip pages. they went WILD 😂😂

username4 i don’t get it?? someone explain

username5 ppls thought something happened to the couple but they seem to be doing fine 🥰

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 378,845 others

ynusername Smiling through the pain :)

charles_leclerc The most beautiful girl 😍

username1 GIRL YOU SLAY THE HAIRSTYLE

username2 drop dead gorgeous

francisca.cgomes literally suits you so much 🫶🏻🩷

username3 what do you mean. you look STUNNINGGG 😍😍

charles_leclerc

Liked by ynusername, pierregasly and 1,507,6739 others

charles_leclerc prettiest in long and short hair. any hairstyle, basically 🩷

ynusername i love youuuu! 🥹 Thank you for taking me out on a dinner date to make me feel better ❤️🥹

username1 FAV COUPLE IS STILL GOING STRONG

username2 i thought they broke up 😭😭😭

username3 tell y/n to never do that again

username4 i’m not gonna believe in love anymore if they ever broke up ��

username5 oh to have my bf take me out on a date after i cut my hair too short 😔

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! 😭 Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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henry7931 · 8 months ago

Text

Summer Bod Part 1 (SwapCorp Story)

Tons of people around the world are trying out the latest advancement in body swapping technology. All led by a company called SwapCorp. SwapCorp allows its clients to selectively choose an ideal body provided with what characteristics/ features the client wants. Once a suitable body is available, the client comes in with their body knowing some else will be using it and leaving with a new one.

This is where our story begins.

Justin Samuels (age 21, 5,3”, 145 pounds, caucasian, red hair, slim build) who is the first person he knows thats trying out SwapCorp. Justin describes himself as a bit of a book worm, has a small friend group, gay, and wants to try a more ‘muscular/ masculine body’. He wants to do a 3 month contract for his swap.

SwapCorp pairs him with David (age 25, 6,2”, 218 pounds,caucasian, dark brown hair, muscular build). David is a personal trainer who wants to explore the opposite gender. Luckily with SwapCorp their algorithm matches the precise swaps necessary for their client’s satisfaction.

So now let’s see how Justin is adjusting to his new body!

Justin:

God this all still feels so surreal, granted it’s only been one day since I got this new body from SwapCorp. But I’m so happy with my swap! I love this body!!

I feel sexy and confident with all of these muscles. And I can’t wait to show off my new temporary self this summer.

I was never the athletic type, I spent more time studying than going to the gym in college but that’s the reason why I’m so successful right now.. Started a part time job, graduated early, and I’m starting grad school in the fall that’s covering all of my bills.

So I figured why not splurge some of my savings and actually have a good time this summer.

And today feels like the true start of it. I’m planning on going to the beach with all of my friends and I can’t wait for them to see me! They are going to be so jealous.

Yesterday, after leaving SwapCorp I spent my entire time exploring this beautiful body. And I feel a little embarrassed to admit just how many times I jerked off.

But I can’t help it, I’m just so turned on by this body! Plus, I paid good money for it.

And speaking of jerking off, I’m already hard! What’s really been getting me are these sexy feet.

I know feet aren’t for everybody but I’ve always had a fetish for them. I’ve spent countless hours jerking off to jock feet porn on the internet. Even in school, when I’d see some of the jocks wearing sandals or chacos— it would take all of my energy not stare at their feet.

And now I have these gorgeous size 11s! They’re so much bigger than my size 9s. And I can do whatever I want with them. Sniff them for hours, run my tongue across the soles, I even came on them 2 times yesterday just to lick it off.

Oh boy all this talk about my big jock feet is making my new dick leak. Speaking of which this thing has a mind of its own!

It’s longer and thicker than mine paired off with a nice set of hairy balls. I had to trim back my pubes a bit. I can tell this is a straight guy’s body since he doesn’t manscape that much. ( Luckily, I took care of all that for him. )

But I can go rounds of jerking this big meat! Even back to back, somehow this body just continues to pour out cum.

I grab it and it’s so hard. I take the head and rub it on the sole of my foot.

“Fuuuuuck, that feels good!”

I start rubbing my dickhead faster on my foot and just feeling both touch sends shocks through me.

I lift up my hairy armpit and take sniff. Wow those stink!

I sit my foot down and start jerking my meat. I need to speed this up so I’m not late for my big new bod reveal.

I pump aggressively, I love how much this dick can handle versus my old one.

I go faster and faster… moaning loudly. My moans are almost like screams. I stair down at my fit stomach and hairy legs/feet.

It sends me over the edge and I squirt out so much cum. Before I get up, I take my thick jock fingers and grab all of the cum off my stomach. I lick each finger clean before heading over to my shower.

*30 minutes later*

Okay now I think I’m ready to introduce my new body to my friends.

My friends and I are a lot like. Alex, Max, Will, and I all share the same interests like our education, video games, comics, boys… I guess the only way to put it is that we are 4 gay nerds lol. But I love our little crew.

I head to the beach early and told them where to meet me. I haven’t sent any photos of my body yet so this should be fun!

I take off all of the clothes I had on over my new red speedo. I figure this is one way to make an impression. I run tanning oil all over my body and lay back waiting on them.

That’s when I see all three shuffling their way down the beach.

“Hey boys!” I holler out to them.

All of them look stunned by my presence.

“Oh my god, is that you Justin?,” says Alex.

I flex my arms just to show off a bit before saying, “Yep! This is the new me.”

“Holy crap! That body!!,” says Will.

I stand up and all of them are drooling over me. Mex even asks me if he can touch my abs.

“Go for it bro!”

Alex giggles, “oh so now we’re your bros.”

“Yeah with a body like this I have to get all of my ‘straight’ lingo down.”

“Shit, Justin how much was all of this? Do you have any side effects?”

“Surprisingly affordable and no I haven’t had any side effects.”

“Wow! This is so crazy, I can’t believe that’s you inside.”

I grin at all of my friends amazed by my new body.

We rented a boat to take on the water so we all hop on and all three of them can’t stop looking at me.

I sit in the back while Alex drove, Will and Max continue to ask me questions about the process.

Will even took a photo of me which I jokingly said to him, “hey don’t jerk to that pic later haha.”

“Lol no promises,” he says back.

All around it was a fun day, we ended up getting food afterwards and by the end we made plans for dinner tomorrow.

As I get back to my place, I wash off all of the salt water and sand. And went straight to my bed.

I laid in bed fully naked just gingerly fondling my dick and balls. All I can think about is how much my friends lusted after my new body.

I look down at my hard dick and grinned. Maybe it’s time to upload a couple of pics to Grindr. I’m ready for some real action!

*The Next Day*

I get a text from Alex that he has an emergency and for me to come over to his place immediately.

I quickly got dressed and rushed over. I get to his door and text that I’m here.

He responds, “it’s unlocked, come up to my bedroom.”

I thought the text was strange but Alex and I are probably the closest in our crew so I trust him.

I go up his stairs and open up his bedroom door.

And to my surprise I see a very hot guy laying in his bed.

“Surprise mothafucka!!”

“ALEX?!?”

“Yep! What do you think?”

“Holy shit! You went to SwapCorp? Oh wow you are… so freaking hot now!”

“Thanks! Now Justin we’re buddies, so why can’t we help eachother out a bit,” Alex pulls the blanket down realizing a massive hard on between his new legs.

“Wow! Are we about to hook up?”

“Only if you’re down!”

“Hell yeah!”

I strip off all of my clothes and hop into bed with him. We immediately start making out, we get so into it and I naturally gravitate my mouth down his chest to his cock.

I start sucking him off and he lets out these loud moans.

“Justin… god, this feels amazing!”

I lift my head up and I say, “this isn’t your first BJ right?”

He doesn’t say anything and just grins at me.

“Well… I guess I feel honored to your first.”

I fondle his balls while taking his dick deep down my throat. He’s convulsing from all of the pleasure.

“Oh god! Hold on Justin! I don’t wanna cum yet!”

I pull my mouth off and take my hand off of his balls.

“I have a weird request and you can say no to me,” he says nervously.

“Sure man!”

“Can I smell your feet?”

My eyes widen, holy crap Alex has a foot fetish?

“Oh my god yeah! As long as you let me smell your sexy toes!”

We both position ourselves to wear each others feet are directly in view.

His big jock feet are soooo hot!

I put my face into them and start licking between each of his toes.

I feel him tracing my soles and he says to me, “wait till you see Will and Max…”

“WHAT?!?”

God this is about to be the BEST summer!

#body swap #male body swap #male tf

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shigayokagayama · 6 months ago

Note

What are the biggest losses between the manga and anime? I just finished watching mp100 and I'm curious what the manga has!

ok biggest losses are kind of hard to define because like. anime and manga are two inherently different mediums and there are a good amount of cuts that improve pacing and then a good amount of cuts that people sort of argue over the merit of so im just going to go for biggest differences. i would also highly recommend reading the manga just because it is a pretty different experience tonally along with the minor plot differences and cut scenes + theres a bunch of omakes that both flesh out characters that dont get too much focus and have some really good bits in them. putting the rest of this post under a cut bc i ramble

mogami arc

this one is kind of inescapable i feel like but the anime version of the mogami arc had a LOT of things trimmed for a couple different reasons. season 2 already got an extra episode in order to do the fire scene as a cliffhanger so with the way things shook out the director had to choose between a. cutting a bunch of stuff out of separation arc to make it one episode so mogami arc couid stay three episode or b. cutting a bunch of stuff out of mogami arc so separation arc could stay two episodes. imo they made the right choice, whats even the point of adapting mob psycho if you dont get confession arc right, but some of the cuts to mogami arc will be dearly missed and others will be fought over to the end of time. cuts include:

minori being established as a brat in a video everyones shown and the video being part of how reigen deduces shes possessed (reigen deducing her possession in the manga is generally just a lot better done and after you read the manga the scene in the anime feels so awkward because you know whats missing

the psychics deciding to band together to beat this little girl to death to save themselves and shinra stepping between them to protect her and getting utterly thrashed, not by mogami, but his fellow psychics

reigen trying to convince mob to leave without him and call for help while he distracts him which leads to this

the general mogamiland section lasting a lot longer and being more brutal (notably the stray cat mob feeds getting killed in front of him)

mob getting fucking torn to pieces by spirits during the fight instead of ambiguously dying offscreen

generally would recommend if nothing else reading the manga version of this arc and confession arc because i feel like these are the only two where you lose like. a significant amount of the story and themes from the cuts. speaking of....

2. WHY THE FUCK DID THEY CUT THIS I WILL BE MAD UNTIL I DIE

maybe its just because i reread this arc on its own probably 50 times before the anime came out but this is the only arc where the cuts actively piss me off because there is absolutely no reason they had to do it. they cut a bunch of important shit, left in things that didnt need to be there, and added scenes that contribute literally nothing to the overall point. if they just did any one of those things or combo of two of those things i wouldnt be as mad but it feels like they put a bunch of filler in then speedran the actual story

cut #1 that pisses me off: HOMOPHOBIA?????

THERE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A HEART IN HIS EYE. WHY DID THEY NOT INCLUDE THIS. THIS IS THE CULMINATION OF TERUS ARC. THIS IS HIM SEEING THE PERSON HE HAS IDOLIZED AND DEIFIED IN HIS HEAD AT THEIR LOWEST AND STILL CHOOSING TO LOVE HIM, AND THROUGH THIS HE IS CAPABLE OF BEING LOVED EVEN THOUGH HES NOT PERFECT BECAUSE NO ONE IS. WHY WOULD YOU CUT THIS?

cut #2 I NEED WHOEVER CUT THE DIALOGUE FROM THE FIRST PANEL IN PRISON

the lack of inclusion of the first panels dialogue along with the cuts to the mob and shigeo conversation (WHICH WE WILL GET TO) make me think the person who adapted this arc fundamentally misunderstood what was happening. this line. is. THE POINT. THIS ISNT SOME SEPARATE SCARY THING. THIS IS MOB. HE IS CHOOSING TO DO THIS BECAUSE HE IS SCARED AND ANGRY AND HURT BUT HE IS IN CONTROL OF HIS ACTIONS AND ALWAYS HAS BEEN.

cut #3 HE DOESNT WANT TO BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR HIS ACTIONS

this entire conversation is so good and i was looking forward to watching it voice acted for so long and its just. gone. for me the "i am shigeo kageyama who are you" reveal felt like a gut punch because the opening being "i knew i would be needed" made me go "oh hes like possessed or his powers are sentient or something" and this conversation was the slow unraveling of my view of these as two separate people and instead as a scared, traumatized teenager who has convinced himself that the parts of himself he hates are something else outside of his control instead of an intrinsic part of who he is because if he's convinced that the parts of him that are able to feel desire and frustration and anger and malice are him then he'll lose all these relationships he's worked so hard to cultivate as his perfect, non confrontational self. and of course that isnt true. all his friends and loved ones are making their way to the center of a damn hurricane because they see he's in distress and want to help him. but he cant see that so he pushes them away. ugh. mob. protagonist of all time.

cut #4 WHY WOULD YOU CHANGE THE COMPOSITION OF THIS I CAN LITERALLY SEE HOW THIS WOULD BE ANIMATED IN MY MINDS EYE W

can you imagine how beautiful this would be in motion. just. god.

cut #5 HE WAS TALKING OUT LOUD. REIGEN HEARD ALL THIS

cut #6 the bowling arc

so the scene where reigen takes his shoes off is supposed to be a lot more solemn bc like. taking your shoes off before killing yourself is a trope in japanese media (ive heard it started in media and bled over into real life but i might have it backwards?). reigen knew he was probably going to die. anyway i cant take this scene seriously because of this edit

the bowling arc.

cut #7 WAAAAAAAAAAAA

WAAAAAAAAAAAA *sniff* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

cut #8 homophobia again

rip pensive fruity tea sip

cut #9 mob threw the cake directly in reigens face on purpose

i literally experienced every stage of grief realizing this got changed. why. its so perfect. why would you change this.

3. World Domination arc

so WD arc is in a very interesting place where it had a lot of scenes cut but unlike the other two most of the cut content youre like. yea probably best not to include that. ill start with the good content that got cut then go into the weird content

serizawa got his power drained by toichiro. i am quite sad this scene didnt make it in because its sorta heartbreaking

teru fighting off the claw assassin is shown and we see that teru can both make shadow clones AND hold a barrier while attacking, he seems to be the only esper with this ability!

the reason dimple could tell mob's family was alive is that there was no sense of grudge at the house which would have been left behind by people passing in a violent manner

mob briefly goes unconscious during the start of the toichiro fight and dimple possesses him and says "shit"

dimple possessing mob shoots shibata with a gun

we get mukai lore.

it doesnt make any sense and just raises more questions but we get it.

toichiro has a team of telepaths to recap where everyone is because this arc took an entire calender year to update

literally everyone shows up to fight shimazaki. i cannot stress enough how many people show up to fight shimazaki. it would be faster to list espers who dont show up to fight shimazaki

the middle school delinquents show up and start fighting the claw grunts literally completely out of no where and this is never brought up or referenced ever again

when mob and ritsu get home ritsu says all their stuff is in boxes and they need to hurry and redecorate the house before their parents get home which implies that shou packed the entire households worth of belongings into boxes and hid it somewhere before lighting their house on fire which is such a funny mental image that i cant even be mad at it. loony toons ass plot point.

4. other random interesting cut things

takenaka is just generally more of a bitch during alien arc. "ah i think they took him" remains one of the funniest goddamn panels in the manga

peak

alien arc overall is a lot funnier in the manga, i have a slight preference for the manga version just bc theres a lot of really good bits that didnt make it to anime but the anime version is so heartfelt and nostalgic it makes me happy

between omakes and small things that got cut or changed for the anime teru just feels way more fleshed out in the manga. like. anime teru is a completely different person. its hard to explain if youve never read it.

the all girls school part originally went right before the ghost family stuff and was the beginning of mob's existential crisis about why spirits and people get different treatment but tbh it works well where it is i just wish it werent. like that.

the scene where ritsu and teru shake hands was teru draining ritsus power which he seems to have learned to do from encountering ???%

teru.

thats all i can think of off the top of my head, im sure ill realize i forgot something some time after posting this but. yeah. read the manga its good

#mp100 #mob psycho 100

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cdragons · 1 year ago

Text

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 2

Previous Part, Next Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But silver linings exist in the sticky toffee pudding Mrs. Gavey made for you.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, Sex, Felix is Felix (a ho), Reader finally eating some good fucking food, Michael is Michael, Farleigh is Farleigh, Oliver is Oliver (a creep), alternating POVs between characters, and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic

Author's Note: BRUH??? HOW DID I GET SO MANY NOTES IN PART 1??? Everyone has been so wonderful and supportive. I received so many questions and comments, which have all been great! Thank you for reading this story, and I hope that this part lives up the first one. Also, this is technically a Christmas fic bc it just fits with the story's timeline. I would like to thank Grammarly for catching all my grammatical errors 🥲, @ethereal-athalia for enabling my crazy ideas 🥰, and @valeskafics for providing me Saltburn smut when I catch myself thirsting 😇

Christmas Eve - Saltburn 2006

“Oh! Oh – y-yes, yes, yes! FUCK!”

Fucking the girl underneath so hard to the point where she likely saw stars. Meanwhile, Felix was trying to finish as soon as possible.

“So big! God, you’re so fucking big – FUCK!”

He brought her to his room and in his bed because he thought her hair just barely matched yours, and if he didn’t think too much about it – her voice sounded a bit like yours too.

But he made a mistake.

The girl – whatever her name was – sounded nothing like you. Her hair was nowhere near as pretty and shiny as yours, and her nails were fucking long and sharp that they were digging for his blood. Her makeup too – fucking hell, it was like she trying out for the opera with how much she caked onto herself.

Every time Felix saw you – whether in the library or under a tree – your nails were trimmed short. And from what he remembered, you didn’t plaster yourself in cheap cosmetics.

No, you never needed to. Your style of choice was simpler and more elegant than most girls he knew, including his sister, Venetia. Granted, he loved his sister to bits and pieces, but the girl loved her spray tan in the winter.

But worst of all – she didn’t have your eyes. Her gaze was too mindless and soft, a mix of adoration and unparalleled lust. Your eyes held vivacious rage and

“Felix?” What’s-Her-Face asked. “You okay?”

Fuck, he was getting soft.

Closing his eyes, Felix knew the only way he would get to finish was to think of you. He thought about the last time he saw you. He remembered how hard the wind blew and how cold it was that night. He felt himself harden at the memory of how alive your eyes were right before and after you broke his nose. His back still had the welts from the blows of your notebook. Every time he saw them in the mirror, he would lovingly stroke each bruise because they were the only evidence that you were real.

That you weren’t just a figment of his imagination.

Letting his mind run wild, Felix imagined you here instead of this imposter. He’d imagine you on top – no way a woman like you would let anyone be on top, not even him. Fuck, you’d be the most wild thing ever to exist, he’s sure he’d let you do anything to him.

His heart, his soul – whether you cared for him or wished to crush him under your shoe – everything of his would be yours.

He wondered if you were the type to be into using a riding crop.

Regaining his vigor with his eyes still closed, he imagined you riding him until oblivion. Your breasts would fit perfectly in his hands as you would still be bouncing on his cock. Your head would be thrown back, and his eyes would roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your pussy tightening.

Oh God, he was going to blow.

Quickening his pace, the girl that wasn’t you was full-on howling in unbridled pleasure. When she climaxed, he could finally let go and come. Ropes of his cum spilled into the condom as he shouted out your name.

Falling to his side, he hadn’t bothered to check if Lady Not You remained in the sheets. It didn’t matter if she did; Felix was too exhausted to care. Finally feeling like he could rest, he fell into a dream about the day he felt his life truly begin – the day he met you.

First Week of Oxford University Michaelmas Term of 2006

Felix remembered the first time he saw you – it was after the first week since the term began. He and his mates were fucking around in Radcliffe, and the old bag running the desk was having a cow with them. He was bored out of his mind when all of a sudden – he spotted you on the upper level. You wore dark wash blue straight-leg jeans with rolled-up cuffs and white high-top Converse sneakers. It looked like your shirt must have been at least a decade old, given how the black-dyed cotton was faded to dark gray, and the paint looked cracked and chipped. Your thick locks were gathered in a loose but simple braid. Unlike everyone else, your eyes weren’t focused on him – but on the structure and life around him.

He had to know more.

Slipping a tenner to one of his friends to cause a distraction, he used the diversion to make his way to your spot on the second floor. Having a closer view, you were the most vividly gorgeous creature he had ever laid his eyes upon. He was worried that his movement toward you would alert you of his presence, and you would only scurry off – and away from him. But judging by the slight bobbing of your head, you wouldn’t be able to hear him since you were listening to whatever was playing through your earbuds.

All the better for him to keep observing you.

As he inched closer, his eyes caught the tiny wisps of your hair that weren’t contained by your messy braid, creating a lovely frame of your face while also bringing out the shine in your eyes. You had a simple gold chain around your neck with a circular locket hanging. From the side, Felix could faintly distinguish the words “Bon Jovi” in blue cracked paint and “1989” underneath a skull wearing red aviators.

He didn’t know who the fuck Bon Jovi was, but clearly, he was someone pretty fucking important to you.

But what captured Felix’s interest was how engrossed you were with the scene unfolding underneath you. Your eyes very rarely broke away from the view – only to quickly glance at the hardcover sketchbook you balanced on the white-painted railing. Whenever you glanced down at your sketch, Felix could see how long and thick your eyelashes were. Each time you blinked, it was like his mind broke down the movement of your eyelids frame by frame as if he were editing a Garry Marshall film. He wished he could be your cheek at that moment. If only to feel the gentle flutter of your lashes’ touch. Deep in your concentration, your lips were slightly pursed in a way that brought out their luscious fullness.

He couldn’t help but imagine how they would look around his cock. If he came inside your mouth, he was sure that some of his spunk would leak past your lips before you tried your best to swallow it down.

He was so lost in the fantasy of you and him that he hadn’t realized you had been calling out to him. Breaking out of his reverie, he looked down to see you right before him. And you looked downright pissed at him.

“Hey! HEY!” you exclaimed while waving your hand to his face to catch his attention.

You were American. How adorable.

“If you could stop staring at me like a fucking serial killer, I think your ‘mates’ are trying to get your attention.”

You pointed your finger at his group of friends still on the first floor. It seemed that they successfully drove away the grounds' warden. The old bat was now fixated on putting away all the returned or misplaced books on the shelves.

Must have been Farleigh’s idea.

Anyway, back to you.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Hey, can I get your –” but you were gone by the time he turned back to you.

Instead, he found himself alone on the second floor. He quickly glanced around to see if you had just moved to a different area. But you were gone. Racing the stairwell, hoping to catch up to you, he found that you had already walked too far for him to call you out without seeming completely desperate.

Except that he was.

He watched you walk away – shoulders back, posture straight, and head held high – and thought at how utterly unfair it was to him that you walked away from him so beautifully without giving him your number, or at least your name.

Felix woke up in a dark room; he was confused as to why the maids hadn’t drawn curtains – until he realized that Mum had likely sent them for their holiday after the party was finished.

It's too bad that he wasn’t there to see everyone out like a good son. But he wouldn’t beat himself over about it too much – chances were that his parents were also hungover off their asses too. He didn’t even want to imagine V’s state right now.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Felix dug into his closet to find whatever someone wore the morning after fucking a completely faceless stranger to scratch an itch meant for someone else. In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a little note on his nightstand. Swiftly plucking it with two fingers, he could barely make out the words written in swirly cursive.

My name’s Cassie. Just thought you should know for next time. Call me: XXXX-XXXXXXX 💋

Felix scoffed before tossing the dingy paper to the floor – destined to be forgotten before the next hour came – before locking himself in the bathroom to take a piss and wash off the smell of booze and cigs off his skin.

By the time he was finished, it was probably close to noon. He would have made his way down to the kitchens to fix something up – but he was immediately met with Farleigh as soon as he stepped out of the doorway. Bastard startled him up so bad that he practically jumped a foot off the ground.

“Fucking – really, Farleigh?” he asked. “Practically gave me a heart attack first thing in the morning.”

“It’s almost one so that ship has sailed.” He quipped back. “Aunt Elspeth and Uncle James were quite distraught when their golden son wasn’t seen by any of the guests when the party ended. It wasn't good when the Carltons’ daughter was gone for almost an hour. But at least she returned to her loving parents’ arms by the time it was to go home.”

Farleigh shot his cousin a curious look.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you? I’m pretty sure her name was Cassandra.”

Felix just shrugged.

“Don’t know about any Cassandras. Fucked a Cassie last night, though.”

Farleigh snorted a laugh as they went to the kitchens to see if any food was prepared.

“Merry Christmas, indeed.”

A few minutes of companionable silence passed before Felix asked his cousin something important.

“Hey, do you think she’s thinking about me?”

“Cassie or Cassandra? Because the answer’s probably yes anyway.”

“No, not them. Y/N, Y/N L/N.”

Farleigh immediately stopped. He genuinely wondered how Felix managed to get into Oxford sometimes. Sure, he was a legacy kid, but the line had to be drawn somewhere.

“You really think,” he slowly began, “that the girl who dragged you out of the library in front of everyone, broke your nose, beat you bruised with only her flimsy-ass notebook – because you ruined her painting – would be thinking about you?”

Judging by the look in his cousin’s eyes, yes. Sighing at the incredulity of it all, Farleigh could only shake his head before finding something to eat and drink away the migraine he could feel was coming.

Watching his cousin walk away from him, Felix knew he thought he was fighting a losing battle. But he wasn’t too worried. Everything would change during the upcoming term. Oxford was its own world – broken away from everything else. All that mattered to anyone in Oxford was this world's history, present, and future. And now – as it was made clear now to Felix – you were also part of that world. He would get to find you again and make sure to bring you to the point where you would look for him the way he would look for you.

Still, a selfish part of Felix hoped that you were even just the slightest bit miserable being away from him as he was being away from you.

Manchester, December 2006

You were having the time of your life.

Michael invited you to his home in Manchester for Christmas to spend the holidays with his family. You refused, at first, the idea of being a burden to your best friend during a time when it should be spent with family. Michael liked to put up a big front, but you knew that he was just as – if not more – excited to spend Christmas with his folks than you were before the “incident.”

But he insisted, and you could not have been more grateful for the invitation. But you wish you were a tad bit more graceful with your reaction when he first brought it up.

Oxford Dining Hall December 2006

You were angrily shoveling pasta into your mouth at the time. Sadly, the appallingly bland marinara sauce paired with the overcooked spaghetti and dry meatballs was the university's most flavorful dish.

“Come home with me.” He told you one evening during dinner time at the dining hall.

Caught off guard, you half-choked on the mountain of overcooked noodles in your mouth. Immediately, you reached for your glass of water to wash it down and to prevent a truly horrifically dull death.

“What?” you croaked out.

“Come with me to my house for Christmas.” He clarified, utterly unfazed by your near death. “Come on, you’ve been complaining to me all week about not being able to fly back for the holidays. And no one should have to spend Christmas eating whatever slop they’ll end up serving.”

“Michael,” you began, “I am not going to impose on your family like that. And you seemed to have forgotten one key detail: I can’t leave until I re-do the painting.”

“So, come over after you finish,” he reasoned, “I know you remember what to do, and that already cuts the time you originally spent on it in half. You won’t need a whole month to do it again, so come over when you finish. Plus, you don’t have your other classes to worry about.”

You knew that he was right – he was right about a lot of things – but the offer still made you uncomfortable. Scholarship student or not, you were no one’s charity case. If there was one thing you hated more than being underestimated, it was being pitied by people who didn’t know you. That wasn’t the case with Michael, but the feeling made you feel small.

You hated feeling small.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I would be imposing on your family. Your mom’s a nurse, right? She’s probably been looking forward to your homecoming for ages now. Informing her that she should be expecting a complete stranger, who would be staying for two weeks, would be a huge burden on her. She shouldn’t have that kind of stress burdening her during the holidays.”

He rolled his eyes at your concern.

“Don’t be a drama queen. I already have one in my life, and I’m genetically attached to her. And you’re hardly a stranger. Mum’s always asking when you would be visiting anyway. She’s worried if you’re eating enough or getting enough sleep. She’s a bit looney like that.”

You shot your friend a glare. He was trying way too hard to keep a cool, nonchalant façade. Michael Gavey was a total sucker for his family but in the sweetest way. During the long study sessions that stretched into the night, Michael’s defenses were lowered, and you could get more information about his life and home.

His mom was a Manchester Royal Infirmary nurse practitioner, while his dad was an accountant at Pearl Lemon. They met at a coffee shop. He was working as a barista to pay off his student loans, and she was a nurse just starting her residency. He wowed her with his terrible jokes, and she charmed him with her infectious smile, and the rest was history. Three years into their marriage, baby Mikey was born, with the addition of his baby sister Lilypad a decade later.

When you remained silent, Michael knew your stubbornness would give him endless headaches. But you were his best friend, the only person he saw worth befriending in the infinite sea of prats and slags that overpopulated their university. You laughed at his shitty jokes, and he snorted at yours. You would try to trip him up with out-of-pocket sums; he’d laugh when he answered them before your calculator. You had his back when some rugby bloke pushed him around, and he had yours when some fake tanned bitch called you a tramp.

“Look, I can’t promise it’ll be anything like your home. I know you miss your mum’s cooking and your dad’s drunk stories. But my parents already made me promise that I would get you to visit because it’s Christmas and no one should be alone and you’re going to die without me here and blah blah blah. Just say you’ll come? Lil’ will murder me if you don’t come. She’s been dying to hear all about the Great Apple and Broadway.”

“…It’s actually called the Big Apple.”

Your comment brought a loud and rather unattractive snort to leave his mouth. And the chuckle that came after brought a small and tentative smile on you.

“Look, are you coming or not?”

You had to admit, the invitation sounded welcoming. You were dying to put faces on the people that made Michael Gavey, well, Michael Gavey. He rarely talked about his family, but his tone was warm and soft when he did. It was such a sweet contrast to the snarky little shit you were used to, and so temptation won in the end.

“…Fine.” You agreed after dragging out the tension. “But I am bringing presents for all your family members, and you have to help me. And any funds that were spent on me are going to be paid back before summer. Got it?”

A true, genuine smile crept across Michael’s face.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“…Will I be seeing any baby pictures of you?”

“Don’t push it.”

You weren’t sure what exactly to expect from Michael’s family – maybe they were wonderful, or maybe the idea of an American that hailed from a city with some of the highest crime rates in the US gave them hives – but you were sure that you wouldn’t be alone if Michael were with you. Safe to say, your expectations were set way too low.

His dad's arms immediately enveloped Michael after you two exited at your stop and the station. You had always assumed most British father figures to be a bit cold and distant, but it seemed that stereotype didn’t apply to his dad. You went in for a handshake but were also caught in a warm hug. You introduced yourself while expressing your gratitude to him and his wife’s generosity.

“Oh no, please,” he insisted, “please call me Greg. Mr. Gavey was my father’s name, and I don’t think I’ve grown that many wrinkles yet.”

When you arrived at his home, it was a medium-sized red brick building in the suburbs. After entering the door and Greg announcing your arrival, quick footsteps ran down the stairs, and a young girl with golden honey curls in pajamas and a pink tutu ran to Michael.

“MIKEY!” she exclaimed. “YOU’RE HOME! Did you miss me? Why did it take you so long? You said your tests were done by the third. It’s the fifteenth today!”

“Lily, Lily,” Michael breathily laughed, “calm down. Of course, I missed you. But I had to wait for my friend because she’s hopeless with directions.”

“That is not true!” you blurted. “It’s not my fault I come from a grid system!”

“Anyway, this is my very good friend, Y/N L/N. Y/N L/N, this is my little sister, Lily.”

Lily turned to you with a big smile and curtsied like a perfect ballerina.

“Hello! My name is Lily! I’m eight, but I’ll be nine in April!”

You almost squealed at how adorable the sight was. You crouched down and mirrored her smile.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Lily! I’m Y/N, and I’m turning nineteen this coming b/m! Your brother here told me so much about you.”

“He did?” she asked with wide eyes.

“He did! He told you how smart you are in math and that you’re an amazing ballerina.”

Lily shyly looked down as a massively cute blush bloomed on her cheeks.

“I wanna be good at sums like Mikey. That way, I can help Daddy with his work like Mikey did when he was my age.”

“Ok!” interjected ‘Mikey,’ cheeks equally flushed at the slipped detail from his baby sister. “Time to find Mum. She in the kitchen?”

“Yep! She’s making roast chicken and mash with peas!” She turned to you. “Is Y/N allergic to anything?”

“Nope!” you replied, “Only dust, but I’m pretty sure that won’t be in the dishes.”

Meeting Michael’s mom – who was absolutely gorgeous, by the way – was another huge highlight of the break so far. Hearing you three entering the kitchen, she immediately turned off the stove and dashed over to hug you and her son.

“Oh, Y/N!” she warmly greeted you. “I’m so happy that you were able to come. Michael has told me so much about you. Have you adjusted well in Oxford? The time difference isn’t putting too much strain on you, is it? You both look so skinny – are they feeding you at all at that school?”

“Careful, Mum. You might scare her off.”

You shot him a mocking glare before answering his mother.

“Don’t be mean! And I think I’ve adjusted well enough to the university. Jet lag wasn’t too much of an issue because my parents made sure I moved into my dorm early and adjusted to the time zone changes before classes started. The food they serve at the dining halls doesn’t compare to homecooked meals, so I haven’t had much of an appetite. But after walking into the kitchen, I think I’ll be able to regain it once I have your cooking!”

“Oh, you are so sweet! I’ll let you get settled. Greg and I cleaned up the guest room for you. It’s next to Lilypad’s room. She’s excited to hear any stories you have about New York. It’s just on the second floor at the end of the hall.”

Walking back to the entrance to grab your bags, you were just in earshot of Michael and his mom’s conversation.

“Michael! Why didn’t you tell me she was so beautiful! I thought she was a model from Vogue when she first walked in! Are you sure nothing’s going on between you two? Should I expect any grandchildren in the near future?”

“Mum!” he loudly groaned as you softly chortled.

Christmas with the Gaveys was so much fun. You played a dozen board games. Michael was a beast in Poker and Uno while you cleared the board with Scrabble and Black Jacks. Mrs. Gavey was a fantastic cook – you couldn’t remember the last time you had any meal that had more than salt as a seasoning since coming to England. You tried sticky toffee pudding for the first time – you almost cried at that first bite. Everyone was so warm to each other and showered one another with so much love. Most of the neighbors watched Michael grow up, and many shared his childhood stories. It reminded you a lot of the Christmases at your parents’ apartment back in Queens.

The community and camaraderie- it was like you were back at home with your family. Your mom would pick up a roast duck from Peking Duck Sandwich Stall in Flushing while you and your dad would go to Eileen’s to wait in line to pick up your favorite cheesecake. The building would have a huge potluck on Christmas Eve, and everyone would bring a dish. Your neighbor, Mrs. Wong, would bring out everything necessary to make her famous dumplings. Everything was made from scratch. You and the kids of the building would learn how to wrap the fillings in the wrappers while the adults made the wrappers and fillings. You would play White Elephant with the other kids on Christmas Day, which usually ended in a fistfight.

You still missed home. You missed your parents and cat. You missed making cookies with your parents because Christmas was the only time when both of them had time off from work. While his school was still on break, you and your dad would take advantage of your mom’s employee benefits and watch a bunch of live Broadway shows.

When your parents skyped you, you cried after seeing their faces for the first time in so long. School was so stressful, and you were starting to regret traveling so far when you could have easily gone to a school so much closer to home. You tried your best to reschedule your flight, but round-trip flights were expensive, and they increased exponentially during the holidays.

You cried for an hour after seeing the prices online.

But thanks to Michael, you felt so much less alone than you would have if you had stayed at Oxford for the entire break. You introduced him to your parents during the call, and they loved him. It was such a massive relief that they liked your friend, especially because of how much his friendship meant to you. When he left the room, your parents basically forced you to ensure he would come with you to stay with you when you returned for the summer. They were shocked when you told them he had never had fresh jianbing or a decent slice of pizza. After the call, you were confident they were making a list of every store and stall you and Michael would visit during his visit.

Classic Queens’ family behavior – showing love by forcing food down your throat whether you like it or not.

At the moment, you were at the window in your room and looking at the moon. It was about three in the morning, and the rest of the household was asleep.

Well – everyone except one.

Michael had crept in about half an hour ago, and the two of you were just looking at the stars. You hadn’t expected to see so many – you could only see the lights from planes and aircraft at night back home. There wasn’t any talking, only comforting silence. The scene outside your window with the fresh snow on top of the rooftops and ground. Each house had a slight outline of their Christmas tree lights shining from their lower windows.

Your fingers itched for your pencil and sketchbook to immortalize it.

Ever so softly, Michael broke the silence while looking at you.

“So,” he began, “how would you rate your first English Christmas in the Gavey Household?”

You looked back at him with the biggest smile that Michael had ever seen on you.

“Ten out of ten. Would pay to see lightsaber reenactment again.”

If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.

Suburban Prescot, Liverpool December 2006

In a well-established suburban home in Prescot, a short boy with crystal blue eyes and inky black hair locked himself in his room. The noise and babble from downstairs gave him a headache. He hated his parents. He hated his sisters. He hated being invisible and being from nowhere.

He had to get out of here.

In his backpack, a photo of a specific heir of a manor was safely tucked in the bottom. The new term was going to be different for him. He would make sure of it.

Tagging: @aemondsbabe, @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @asa-do-your-thing, @valeskafics, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list by commenting!

#saltburn x reader #saltburn #saltburn crack #saltburn au #michael gavey x reader #felix catton x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start #venetia catton #oliver quick #michael gavey #saltburn 2023 #saltburn movie

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samuelsdean · 2 years ago

Text

Who's Your Barber?

request: based on this.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: “you move fast, kid.” he turned to spencer who looked like he was on the verge of passing out. “letting Y/N cut your hair without going on a first date.”

genre: fluff

word count: 0.8k

author's notes: hello! i'm back with another spencer reid tooth-rotting fluff without plot. this was based on a request sent to me. i hope you'll love this!

“DO YOU THINK MY HAIR’S TOO LONG?”

You looked up from where you were working on a pile of paperwork from a recent case only to stare at a pouting Spencer.

Cute, you thought.

“Why?” You asked, now facing the man in front of you who was busy fretting over his hair. “Is it bothering you?”

“No, not really.” He mumbled. “I just—I don’t know. I want to keep it this way because it’s always been kind of on the longer side but I also want to try cutting it short.”

A bit shy from his admission, Spencer started fiddling with the hair tie on his wrist, obviously not that comfortable implying that he did care about his looks even for a small bit.

You almost cooed at how adorable he’s being for a grown man.

“Okay,” You prodded him again, wanting to make sure you understood what he was trying to say. “So, you wanna try a new haircut but you’re not sure about it. Well, I can help you with that.”

Spencer looked up from where he was playing with his hair tie and scrunched up his brow in question.

“How?”

You instantly blushed at what you were about to suggest when you noticed Spencer being all for it. The thing about Spencer is that he’s a great listener as much as he likes to talk. Coming from a household where he never got to have a good companion unless his mom was doing okay, Spencer knew what it felt like when no one wanted to listen to whatever it was one has to say. With all your doubts starting to vanish at Spencer’s obvious interest, you shared your thoughts.

“Well,” You decided to share. It’s not like you would recount to him an embarrassing childhood story. That’s a story meant for another day. “I may or may not have worked at my aunt’s salon over the summer back when I was in high school. I wasn’t a hairstylist but learned a thing or two.”

Spencer’s eyes widened in wonder. You no longer regretted sharing your experience and were sure he was about to share a tangent on hairstyling in typical Dr. Spencer Reid fashion.

“Archaeologists discovered that cutting our hair and styling it have both been practiced by human beings as early as the Ice Age.” Spencer babbled. “Also, they said that people’s social class, age, ethnicity, race, and genetics determined the style of their hair throughout history even up to the late 20th century.”

You grinned at Spencer’s info dump and ruffled his hair, to which he scrunched his nose.

“So, Reid,” You replied. “When are we gonna cut your hair?”

“What, did you join a boy band?”

Everyone around the table started giggling and smiling as soon as Hotch directed the question at Spencer, as your cheeks reddened. Unfortunately for Spencer, you being a former employee at your aunt’s salon certainly did not do you wonders. Because what was supposed to be a trim here and there became a short haircut for him, quite shorter than what he has envisioned, he shared with you.

You almost dug yourself a hole right then and there.

But apparently, Spencer liked it enough—loved it even—to not hate you for cutting his hair too short. It’s fortunate—for him and especially for you who gets to see him in his new hair every day—that Spencer was pretty. He looked good both in long and short hair.

However, with Hotch asking him that question, you were sure Spencer would hate you for cutting it wrongly.

“No?” Spencer replied as his brows crinkled. You breathed a sigh of relief with his answer, which Rossi didn’t fail to notice.

You were about to head out when Hotch just announced, “Wheels up in 30.” When you heard Rossi speak to Spencer

“I like your hair, kid.” You almost smiled until Rossi questioned him. “Who’s your barber? Maybe I’ll get myself the same haircut.”

As if it couldn’t get any worse, you heard Morgan join in on the conversation, like both he and Rossi knew something you don’t. Spencer probably didn’t know what that something was too.

“Yeah, pretty boy. Who’s your barber?”

Spencer looked like he had swallowed a frog and he had seen a ghost with how comical he looked right now.

It seemed Spencer knew what Rossi and Morgan were trying to imply in their prodding.

“It seems to me,” Rossi continued. “It was our lovely Y/N who cut his hair.”

At this, your eyes widened as Derek smirked.

“You move fast, kid.” He turned to Spencer who looked like he was on the verge of passing out. “Letting Y/N cut your hair without going on a first date.”

Spencer likes you back?

As in more than friends?

Non-platonic?

Spencer likes you back!

“Shut up!” Spencer screeched.

“Let’s leave the kids alone.” Rossi appeased Spencer while looking at you. “They have a date to plan.”

Spencer sputtered out as both men chuckled while moving out.

“So, Reid.” You simpered. “Where are we going for our first date?”

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kaleidoscopewritings19 · 1 year ago

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Bruce Wayne x BATMOM!Reader

Title: "Blood thirsty Gremlin"

Character(s): Bruce Wayne, Female!Batmom!Reader, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, and Tim Drake.

Warnings: None

Prompts Used: In bold print and credit goes to @skriveting

NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO POST/TRANSLATE MY WORK TO OTHER APPS OR WEBSITES. Thank you <3

OTHER BATMOM!READERS (CLICK THE TITLES)

"A Snowman, A Nosebleed, and the Wayne's"-CHRISTMAS SPECIAL

"Annabelle" - HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

"A Trophy and Chloroform"

Every summer, Bruce would have the field behind Wayne Manor cleaned, trimmed, and tended to. The grass would be cut, the trees would be cleaned up, and overall, the field was maintained. Bruce even added a man-made stream to divide the field in half.

There was reasoning as to why this said field was properly maintained, and so much effort was put into it. This reasoning was the Wayne’s Summer Fun! (At least, that is what you called it)

Every Summer, your family would choose one day out of the week to camp, cook out, and stay in the field to play games all week long.

Bruce and the boys gave up their vigilante antics for the week so you could spend quality time together. Plus, you just wanted the boys to feel like they had a good childhood, and it wasn’t just full of training and fighting criminals once the sun went down.

It was the end of the week and tomorrow the boys would go back to their normal schedule, and you and Bruce would go back to work. Every year, you would end “The Wayne’s Summer Fun” with a game of capture the flag. The boys loved it, and every year, you would switch up team members so the games would stay interesting.

And every year, one of the teams would receive a trophy, that was normally given to the winner of monopoly, and every year, someone would end up in a fight. (But that story has already been told: click here to read).

This year, your team consisted of Bruce and Damian. Jason, Dick, and Tim were the blue team, and your team was the red team. Alfred was merely just the mediator, and he would sit in a deer stand that Bruce had built just for the purpose of this game.

Alfred always explained the game, even though everyone knew how to play. “Each team has a flag and will hide it at eye level, but not in direct site. Each team needs to have an offense and a defense, and a spot they call jail.” he said, and he cleared his throat. “Switch offense and defense often. Those who are in offense will go and try to capture the other team’s flag and take it back to their side of the field. Those in defense, will capture those who try to take the flag and put them in jail.”

Jason sighed, “Alfred, we know-”

Alfred spoke over Jason, “HOWEVER, players of the team that has captured members, can retrieve their partners from the jail and take them back to their base. As always, protect your flags! The first team to retrieve a flag and get it to their home base, will receive this, trophy.” Alfred smiled as he held the gold trophy in his hand.

Each side had an equivalent number of trees, and you, Bruce, and Damian took off running towards your home base. Damian held the flag, “Okay, between these trees will be perfect. The bushes cover it, and its eye level, so technically we are not breaking any rules.”

You and Bruce looked over at each other, “Sounds good to me. Now, Damian and I will obviously be offense and you be defense.” Bruce said, and your hands went to your hips.

“Why am I always defense?” you asked, and Bruce and Damian stared at each other.

Last Year

You were placed in defense, and your team consisted of Tim and Dick. Jason, Bruce, and Damian were a team, and Damian happened to sneak past you. The sound of a twig snapping caught your attention, and you jumped into action.

Damian was standing next to your blue flag, and about to take off with it. But when his eyes met yours, he bolted, making you chase after him. You threw a few pinecones at Damian, but he dodged them all. He was quick on his feet for being so little, but you jumped, and tackled Damian to the ground.

“Come on Dami, give mom the flag!” you shouted as you tried to grab it out of his hands. Damian flailed like a fish, and shouted, “NEVER!” You started tickling him, until he dropped the flag.

Damian laid on the ground out of breath from laughing. You stood up, picked up your flag, and picked Damian off of the ground and took him back to your bases jail. “Don’t mess with momma.” you said before leaving Damian in the "jail".

End of Flashback

“I wasn’t that bad!” you exclaimed, and Bruce smiled.

“Mom, you were throwing pinecones at me! And you tackled me to the ground!” Damian said, and you gave them both a nervous smile. “Okay, that wasn’t my best motherly moment. But in my defense, I am competitive. I can’t help it.” you say as you ruffled Damian’s hair.

Bruce pressed a kiss to your lips. “That’s why I married you, honey. I like your competitiveness.”

“Okay, guys, we need to get going. Alfred just blew the whistle.” Damian took off running, leaving you and Bruce behind.

MEANWHILE....

“Jason, that’s cheating!” Tim exclaimed as Jason placed the flag on the ground behind a big rock. “It’s not cheating.” Jason said, as he turned to look at Tim.

“Alfred said, the flag must be eye level. So, having it lying on the ground is cheating.” Tim explained and Jason rolled his eyes.

“Tim, look down.” Jason said, and Tim looked down. “Can you see the flag?”

Tim nodded, and Jason clapped his hand to Tim’s back. “Okay then. It’s eye level.” Dick looked between Jason and the flag and smiled. “He’s got a point.”

Jason stood up on the rock, “I have decided I will be the defense, while you two be the offense. Damian will always try to be the first one to get the flag, and I want to be the one to put the spawn in jail.” he said as he hopped off the rock.

The boys heard the whistle blow, “Let’s go win us a trophy, now break!” Jason yelled, and Tim and Dick took off down the field.

...

You and Bruce had waited for Damian to return, but he never did. The sound of twigs and sticks snapping caught both yours and the Batman’s attention. Bruce held a finger to his lips and crept off through the trees. You waited patiently, and Bruce came back with Tim and Dick by the collars of their shirts.

“They thought they could sneak past the bat.” Bruce said, and he led them away to the place you guys picked as jail. "You did not just say that..." Dick said as Bruce tossed them both into jail.

When he came back, he smiled, “They made the mistake of sending out two scouts. I am going to check on Damian and I will be right back.”

You checked on Tim and Dick and they were lying on the ground. “Why would you send out two of your scouts?” you questioned, and they shrugged their shoulders. “It’s the last time we let Jason call the shots.” Dick mumbled, and Tim threw a rock.

Ruffling both of the boys’ hair, Tim spoke, “Well, at least it was dad who got to us. Mom would’ve tackled us both.”

“Or worse, she would’ve thrown pinecones at us, or landed us in the ER..” Dick shuddered, and you rolled your eyes. “Have fun in jail, boys.”

You ran back to your hiding spot. and Bruce came back with no sign of Damian. “He must be up in a tree strategizing. He’s not in jail, and he’s nowhere to be found.”

Both you and Bruce heard a sneeze, and you looked around frantically. Bruce pulled you behind a tree, and the two of you peeked out towards the left of the field. Jason, Dick, and Tim were all creeping around, and you turned to Bruce.

“It was a trap! This was Jason’s plan all along!” you whisper shouted, “That little shit....” you whispered, and Bruce chuckled. “It’s not funny, Bruce! If we lose this--”

Bruce placed a hand on your shoulder, "It's just a game of Capture the Flag honey, it's not that serious-"

You looked Bruce straight in the eyes, "If we lose this, I'm divorcing you."

Bruce sprang into action, and the two of you went after one of the boys one at a time. Jason was the hardest to catch; somehow, you were able to climb a tree, and once Jason walked underneath, you leaped down at him.

Jason let out a scream and hit the ground, “OUCH!” Jason cradled his arm, and pain raced up through your left leg. Bringing your leg to your chest, you held onto it, and Bruce, Tim, and Dick came running.

“What happened?” Bruce asked as he raced to your side.

“Mom jumped from the tree like a blood thirsty gremlin and tackled me to the ground. I think my arm is broken...” Jason said, and Bruce looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

“I think my leg is broken....” you said, and Bruce shook his head. He lifted you up off the ground, and Tim and Dick helped Jason off of the ground. “Another trip the ER. They might as well give us a room with our name on it.” Bruce mumbled.

-----

LATER THAT EVENING

Your leg had a cast, and you were on crutches. Jason had a broken arm, and you had a fractured leg. “Your competitiveness has gotten the better of you. Again.” Bruce said as he helped you into bed.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I thought you loved my competitiveness?” you questioned, and Bruce laughed. “I do, trust me I do. Sometimes I think you should have been a Navy Seal Operative.”

Alfred walked into the room and Dick trailed behind him with Damian in his arms. Damian had a red flag wrapped around his mouth, and duct tape around his wrists and ankles.

“Oh my gosh, who did this?” you say and you motioned for Dick to place your youngest son on the bed. You tried your best to untie him. One you took the flag out of his mouth Damian coughed.

“I was outside for three hours! Where were you guys?” he asked, and you looked down at your leg. Damian stared, “Woah. How’d that happen?” he asked, and your cheeks turned red.

Bruce sighed. “Your mom and Jason were the ones to get in a tussle this time around. But- what happened to you exactly?" Bruce asked and everyone turned their attention to youngest Wayne.

"It was Jason! I almost had their flag, and he jumped me from behind and tied me up!" then Damian started looking around the room. "Speaking of which... where is he?" Damian looked past Dick and seen Jason trying to creep out of the bedroom.

Before you and Bruce could grab Damian, he leaped off of the bed and hurled toward Jason. And a loud smack could be heard around the world and Jason's pained scream could also be heard in a thirty-mile radius.

"Don't mess with me!" Damian shouted as he bowed up at Jason. Alfred walked into the bedroom with the trophy in hand, "I assume that I get to keep this trophy?"

Bruce and you shared a glance at one another, "Because I have captured both flags." Alfred said as he smiled and waved both flags. That year, Alfred was the Wayne Summer Fun Victor.

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

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this x reader! This was meant to be posted in the summer, but oh well. I hope you all have a great weekend! Let me know your thoughts on this x reader in the comments!

XOXO

#bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x batmom #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #batmom #batfam #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #alfred pennyworth

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mxxtalupyourass · 11 days ago

Text

꧁𖤐 NIKKI SIXX NSFW ALPHABET 𖤐꧂ 1984

꧁𖤐 WARNINGS: Mentions of breeding kink, Choking, No Aftercare situations, Mentions of drugs, Mentions of Alcohol, Panty stealing

(Lmk if i missed any)

A/N: got a burst of inspiration

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

𖤐 I believe Nikki would act depending on who you are

𖤐 If you were someone who mattered to him, he would 100% be real sweet to you afterwards. He may not say a lot, but he’ll let you sit there in his arms.

𖤐 If you’re just a groupie or someone he views as a quick lay, there isn’t really a lot of aftercare. He’s high & horny and probably fresh off stage, he doesn’t care about aftercare.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part on you & on himself)

𖤐 This man is a tits guy and I will die on that hill.

𖤐 He loves your tits so much. They’re like a pillow. You sleep on your back? His head is lying on your boobs like a pillow.

𖤐 For him, he likes his arms. He likes to watch you ogle over his arms, his tattoos.. It’s cute.

𖤐 He’ll catch you staring at his arms sometimes and he just giggles at you.

“You’re staring again, Love.” He poked your side, laughing at you a bit.

“S’ not my fault, you can’t just have your arms out like that! You know what they do to me.” You huffed at him, making him laugh more. He was wearing a tank top, which left his arms out for the world to see.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

𖤐 Drawing back to what I said before about your tits, he would love to cum on your boobs.

𖤐 Just the thought of your perfect tits covered in his unborn kids could get him hard as a rock.

𖤐 If he cums inside of you, he always goes the next morning to buy you a plan-b.

D = Dirty Secret (Self Explanatory.)

𖤐 When you two met as teenagers, the first time you took him to your house was just a few days after meeting.

𖤐 He snuck into your bedroom and stole some of your panties.

𖤐 He said he was gonna go to the bathroom real quick, and you nodded.

𖤐 He didn’t go to the bathroom.

𖤐 You wondered where they went..

E= Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

𖤐 SUPER experienced. You already know.

𖤐 Like, every other story of him you hear is about sex somehow.

𖤐 He knows where to look for every spot, good positions, and good kinks.

F= Favorite Positions

𖤐 He loves doggystyle. Adores it. Especially in a mirror.. Seeing your face and seeing your tits bounce make him cum.

𖤐 Like’s Face Off too. He thinks it’s super hot to hold you and stare at you into your eyes as he’s absolutely ruining you below.

𖤐 His favorite is cowgirl, though. Loves putting his hands on your hips to guide you.

G= Goofy (Are they more serious? Are they humorous?)

𖤐 Depends.

𖤐 If he’s drunk? He wouldn’t be opposed to some laughing.

𖤐 He’s high? I feel he’d be more serious. If it’s heroin, then definitely serious. Weed though? Goofiest man ever.

𖤐 If he’s sober, it just depends on his mood.

H= Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

𖤐 He’s not SUPER overgrown, but.. he’s not bald either. He may trim a bit, but..

𖤐 And as for the carpet matching the drapes.. No, they don’t match! Nikki dyes his hair black from brown, so it’s all gonna be brown down there.

I= Intimacy (How are they during the moment? Romantic?)

𖤐 Depends on how he’s feeling & if it’s a quickie or not.

𖤐 If it is, then there isn’t a whole lot of romance..

𖤐 But if it isn’t, & he’s in a good mood, then he could be plenty romantic.

J= Jack Off (Masturbation headcannon)

𖤐 He has been surrounded by girls for a couple years now. He used to jack off a bunch, but now he doesn’t really need to..

𖤐 Although he does jack off sometimes when he’s on tour, thinking of you.

K= Kink (One or more of their kinks)

𖤐 choking. He loves the idea of being able to control how you breathe while he fucking ruins you.

𖤐 Bondage. He loves seeing you tied up.. and maybe himself a little..

𖤐 He is the KING of edging people. He loves seeing that look of desperation on your face.

𖤐 Sensory deprivation. Blindfolds, noise cancelling headphones.. etc.

𖤐 Temperature play. Matches, ice cubes, hot wax..

𖤐 Public/Semipublic sex. Likes the risk of getting caught

L= Location (favorite place to fuck)

𖤐 Backstage. Not even in his dressing room either.

𖤐 In bed, of course. He’s a fan of his early morning sex.

𖤐 Shower. He loves showering with you.

𖤐 Kitchen counter. He adores pulling you to the side onto the counter while you’re cooking..

M= Motivation (What gets them going?)

𖤐 If you wear any tight or revealing clothes.. oh man its on.

𖤐 On occasion, he’ll have you sit on his lap. After a little bit of you squirming around to get comfortable, you’ll feel something hard poking your ass.

N= No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs.)

𖤐 He would never actually hurt you. He might talk about it, but that’s just words. He would never.

𖤐 He might have sex with you while he’s drunk or high, but he never wants to when you are. Just in case.

𖤐 And back to the choking thing, he would love to choke you, but he wouldn’t ever choke you hard.

𖤐 And if you say to stop choking, he would in an instant.

O= Oral (Does he prefer to give or receive? Skill?)

𖤐 As much as he LOVES to eat you out, he prefers receiving.

𖤐 He is super amazing at oral. And he also loves to see you fall apart on his tongue.

𖤐 But theres something about seeing your lips all swollen, wrapped around his cock.

𖤐 He loves it when you choke on his cock..

𖤐 He would grab your hair and guide you, letting you up to breathe occasionally

P= Pace (Are they fast or rough? Slow and sensual?)

𖤐 Depends, again.

𖤐 Unless he’s feeling particularly sweet, he’s gonna be fast & rough.

𖤐 if he’s feeling more romantic..

𖤐 He’d be more gentle, slower. More sensual.

Q= Quickie (Opinion on quickies, how often..)

𖤐 Big fan. He’s a big fan.

𖤐 Loves getting quickies before a show.

𖤐 Usually the before-show quickies just mean you suck his dick,

𖤐 But after the show, he always pays you back.

R= Risks (Are they game to experiment? Do they like risks?)

𖤐 YES yes he is!!

𖤐 He LOVES to experiment.

𖤐 If you come up to him with an idea or a new thing to try, he’ll drag you to his room real quick. No hesitation.

S= Stamina (How long can they go for? How many rounds?)

𖤐 I’d say about 3-4 rounds on a day he’s just really feeling it.

𖤐 One round lasting about 45 minutes.

𖤐 A normal day would be about 1-2 rounds

T=Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On themselves or on you?)

𖤐 He owns toys but not for himself

𖤐 Claims that nothing can do it for him as good as you can.

𖤐 But he loves punishing you with toys. It’s his favorite.

𖤐 Would either edge you or tie your wrists and make you sit with it in for a while on max.

U= Unfair (how much do they tease?)

𖤐 He is the king of teases.

𖤐 He would sit there with his leather pants just a little bit unlaced, while you whine for him to just take them off

𖤐 Also, the edging bit. He loves to hear you whine for him, to let you cum.

V= Volume (How loud are they? What sounds do they make?)

𖤐 He isn’t particularly loud.. but he isn’t quiet either.

𖤐 Quiet moans, little whimpers..

𖤐 Lets out a whine when he cums.

W= Wild card (Random Headcannon)

𖤐 Basically worships you.

𖤐 Like actually. Any time you take off your clothes, he realizes just how down bad he is.

𖤐 Praises fall from his lips like a second language

𖤐 “Love, you are absolutely perfect..”

𖤐 “God, look at those thighs.. pretty girl..”

𖤐 “Fuck, the things you do to me..”

X= X-ray (what’s going on under those clothes?)

𖤐 6 1/2 inches, take it or leave it.

𖤐 Pretty girthy, though, so it makes up for the length.

𖤐 Has pretty heavy balls

Y= Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

𖤐 Oh lord

𖤐 He’s horny any time you are

𖤐 Actually, when isn’t he horny?

Z= Zzzzz (How fast they fall asleep afterwards?)

𖤐 I’d say about 30 minutes

𖤐 Likes to take care of you, & make sure you’re all cleaned up.

𖤐 Will let you curl up in his arms and fall asleep

𖤐 Plays with your hair and whispers praise

#fanfic #motley crue #70s #mick mars #nikki sixx #tommy lee #vince neil #nikki sixx smut #nikki sixx fic #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx fanfiction #i love him #i ❤️ nikki sixx

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captainlondonman · 7 months ago

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SHORT STORY- TURKISH BARBER

Sam decided he needed a haircut, only a trim but a tidy up anyway and went off to his usual barber. As he went to open the door he noticed a sign saying ‘On vacation. Back soon’

‘Shit now I need to find another place.’

He remembered passing several times a Turkish barber shop where there never seemed to be many clients and the older barber was invariably sitting reading a newspaper

‘Well’, he thought’ it’s only a trim he can’t go far wrong.’

He pushed the door open and walked in

The guy looked up and smiled

‘Looking for a haircut?’

‘Yeah just a trim if that’s OK.’

‘Come and sit down and let’s get started.’

After getting a gown around Sam’s neck the barber took out his scissors and started on the sides. Thinking of getting a conversation started Sam asked

‘Are you Turkish?’

‘Yes sure am but I’ve been here a good few years. Have you ever been to Turkey?’

‘Once a few years ago to Istanbul. I’ts an amazing city. I loved it. So much to see and do. Really where East meets West.’

‘Everyone goes there and you are right but have you been to any of the beaches in Turkey?’

‘No.’

‘That is something else, golden sand and blue blue sea.’

‘Not sure I would find it that easy.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well with my fair skin and flat chest I would find it a bit daunting with all those hairy chested Turks showing off their masculine bodies’

‘You have a point I think.’

‘They all look so manly with their thick beards and dark hairy chests.’

‘You obviously look carefully at us Turkish men.’

‘Well, you cannot miss all that black hair.’

‘You would like to have hairy chest I think.’

‘Sure I would love to but clearly not going to happen so perhaps I leave out the beaches.’

‘Not everyone has black hairy chest. Look at me, mine is now grey.’

‘I see that but even though you only have your two top buttons undone I can see your chest must have been dark at one time and now its grey but a lot of hair. Lucky you.’

‘Wait a minute I have an idea.’

And with that he put down his scissors and walked over to the door locking it. ‘Now let me take off your cover and follow me to the back of the shop. Don’t worry. From what you said you will be happy trust me.’

Sam had no idea what the guy was talking about but got up and followed the guy into the back room.

‘So you like hairy men and even noticed the hairs sprouting out the top of my shirt so I now take off my shirt and you do the same.’

At first Sam thought the guy had taken leave of his senses but part of him wanted to see how the full chest hair looked like even if he was going to show nothing.

Sam stripped off his shirt feeling very self conscious.

‘I see what you mean young man, not much hair to show. Would not be well receievd on a Turkish beach I think. This is more like it.’

The barber slowly took off his shirt and Sam’s eyes were on stalks. Not only was the barber covered with a thick mat of chest hair but it came up all across his shoulders and down his arms to his very fingertips. It was almost like a gorilla. The hair was salt and pepper with a dark area around the navel getting greyer as it rose up over his chest and tits. The shoulders were thick in white hair.

‘Now that is a Turkish chest for you.’

‘Good god that is amazing I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as hairy.’

‘I think you like it judging by your eyes. Sadly my wife hates it she would prefer I was like you.’

‘Then she is totally wrong it looks great on you and I just wish I had some of what you have.’

‘You really would like to be hairy would you not?’

‘There is something really special about hairy and Turkish and arab men. They look so masculine.’

‘Hairy bodies are for men. Hairless chests for boys.’

‘Yeah but I am a man.’.

‘A man who would like to be hairy.’

‘Sure would.’

‘So would you like to touch my chest and feel the hair?’

‘Can I?’

‘Well I have asked you so yes, see what it is like.’

Sam gingerly put his hands lightly on the barber’s chest and felt the thick curling mass of hair.

‘Now come on boy just giving a little touch is hardly being a man. Run your hands over and deeply across my chest so you know what a hairy chest really feels like. Let your hands become entangled in the hair. Let me feel your hands.’

Sam started to move his hands deep into the hair letting the grey thick hair curl around his fingers. He had never felt anything like this. The sensation of touching and rubbing had started to make his cock so erect it was sore. He felt he could say nothing to this older man that he was becoming so aroused and just hoped his tent was not too obvious.

‘Why don’t you move your hands up under my pecs, the hair is thicker there just under my tits. You see how thick it is there?’

‘God I never felt anything like this before.’

‘Looks as if you are enjoying.’

‘Well you said I should move my hand around.’

‘So while you are at it why don’t you try and find my nipples among the hair. That’s it, I can feel your fingers just touching my nipples. So while they are there I’d like you to give them a tweak. Get each nipple between your fingers and give a squeeze.’

Sam did not know what to do so very gingerly teased them

‘I said give them a squeeze not just a brush. That’s better a bit harder. Us Turks like to have good big nipples and some squeezing helps make them bigger. Now move your hands up to my shoulders. See how the hair continues across my shoulders. And you know it goes all the way down my back. You’d like to feel that as well no doubt.’

‘If you are asking. I have rarely seen a hairy back before.’

‘Well I tell you what, come into me, press your chest against mine and put your arms around my back and let your hands rub up and down my back and at the same time you can feel my hairy chest rubbing against you, so it almost will feel for you what a hairy chest you could have.’

Sam did as he was told and put his arms around the barber, the barber doing likewise and pulling in tight

’See my back is almost as hairy as my chest so let your hands rub into my skin.’

‘Christ it’s amazing,’ Sam replied as he started to move his chest tight up against the barbers hair letting the hairs rub against his skin

‘How does that feel?’

I feel as I rub against you as if I have a hairy chest. Its just what I have always imagined. I am almost feeling like a bear even with no chest hair but all your hair makes me feel as if its mine.

‘That’s the idea. Now I seem to think there’s a bit of a pole rubbing against my thigh. Feels as if you have a hard on.’

‘Not just a hard on but my cock is aching with all this rubbing.’

‘I hope you are feeling something more than a pole against your thigh.’

‘Shit is that your cock it feels more like another leg.’

Taking one hand away from Sam, the barber pushed Sam’s hand down between them

‘So feel that.’

‘Christ its huge.’

‘Of course it is. It’s pure Turkish thick cock. All us men have a good 9” and not just the length but thick and cut as well.. That cock of mine needs to get out and you can see properly so unzip me and take it out.’

Sam carefully unzipped the massive bulge and put his hand inside to feel the throbbing dick. ‘You need to undo the belt and let my trousers down so you can lift it out. It’s too big to just take out like this.’

As Sam let down the trousers so the meaty prick bounced upwards. Sam could not believe the size. If this is what all Turks have then I want one he thought to himself.

‘So now I have let you feel all my hair, I need a couple of favours from you.’

Firstly you get down on your knees and suck. My wife hates a blow job but I love it and only men know how to do it properly.’

‘I might choke with trying to suck.’

‘Trust me once you let your mouth open and breathe carefully this will slip down the back of your throat.’

The barber undid Sam’s zip and slid his trousers down over his cock which was tenting in his pants.

‘Not a bad dick but it could be bigger. I think you would like a thick dick like mine, yeah?’

‘I sure would.’

‘So get down and feel this big chopper into your mouth. I want to feel my cock all the way down the back of your throat. Take hold of my heavy balls and pull them down as you start to lick my head.’

Sam sat on the floor and took hold of the barber’s heavy balls.

‘Now pull down tight and move you head in. Get your mouth full of spit to cover my head.’ Holding the Barbers balls Sam started licking the glistening head covering it with more and more spit running his lips around the full helmet.

‘That’s good but now I need to feel your mouth get deeper. You don’t need to take the full length but go as far as you can without chocking.’

Still holding the balls Sam opened his mouth as wide as possible and moved it slowly down into his throat. It was massive but having such a thick member in his mouth was a real turn on.. The barber took hold of Sam’s head and moved it further into his cock.

‘Good boy you are doing this well now start move your mouth up and down my shaft. Let me feel you sucking up and down. Christ that feels good but I need to stop you there as there is now the second favour I need of you. Take your mouth out of my shaft and stand up.’

Looking Sam in the face he said

‘My wife hates being bum fucked but I love arse fucking and your arse is now ready for a fuck. Let me see that arse of yours.’

The barber let his hands move across Sam’s cheeks and started to push them apart to expose his hole.

‘Look quite tight to me but with all your spit you should be able to take.’

‘I’m not sure I can take your prick’ Sam said.

‘Don’t worry I’ll be gentle and I’ll just let a good gob of my spit onto my shaft so it will be easier. Now bend over as it will be better for you.

Sam wanted to feel the barbers cock insider him. He wanted to feel a real hairy man stick it all the way up..

The barber keeping Sam’s cheeks as far apart as possible guided his cock to the hole and with a gentle push started to move his helmet in.

‘Christ it’s huge. I’m really not sure.’

‘Just relax, be a man like us Turks and once in you will want the full length trust me. Now be a man. Pushing a bit more the full helmet entered his arse and then Sam felt he could relax a bit. It felt so good he started to shove his arse back towards the cock.

‘I want to feel those thick pubes of yours up against me and also feel all that body hair rubbing against me as you grind your cock.’

‘I’ll put my full cock inside you and the give you a moment to rest before we do the next part. This next one with be a changer for you. You will become a man just like all us Turks. Now stand up and squeeze your bum so you feel me deep inside you.’

‘Now let’s turn you to look at the mirror so you can see yourself and I start to fuck you harder.

‘Good you can see yourself with that smooth chest and feel my hairy chest against your back.’

‘It feels as if I have the hairy back when you are pressed against me.’

‘So you’d like to have a hairy chest and back would you?’

‘Seeing you is exactly what I’d love to have.’

‘Good I hoped you might say that. So are you ready for me to start a harder fuck and then come inside you cause there’s plenty of spunk in my balls and I want you to feel it shooting all the way up.’

‘I want you all and now even though that prick of yours is so big my arse is aching to be fucked by it.’

As the barber starting to move his cock in and out down the length of Sam’s arse he moved his arms to the front around Sam.

‘This arse of yours is made for me and boy am I gonna fuck

Let me start rubbing your arms with my hands while I fuck ok?’

‘Please I want to feel those hairy manly arms all over me.’ Sam was almost begging

As he rubbed his hands over Sam’s arms, Sam was suddenly aware that those smooth arms of his were sprouting hairs and not just blond hairs but dark almost black hairs, long and curling from his shoulders all the way down to the tips of his fingers

‘What is happening my arms are now looking hairy.’

The barber replied as he continued to let his cock run the full length of Sam’s arse.

‘You said you’d like to be hairy. Looks good and manly does it not?

‘But they are not just becoming hairy they look more muscular’.

‘Who wants to be a skinny man. We all want to be real men don’t we?’

‘Well yes’

‘So now let me run my arms across your smooth chest and see what I can do for you.’

As the barber ran his rough large hands across Sam’s chest he thought it at first looked like a shadow across his whole chest and then as he looked down he realised it was hairs not just slowly sprouting out of every pore but quickly and looking like a forest of curling black hair all the way cross and down even on his shoulders. Not only around his pecs and navel but the entire chest was hairy. His whole chest was larger with now broad shoulders and dark skin and he had a 6 pack he’d never had before and such a big pair of pecs all covered in coarse hair. It was like a perfect Turkish man’s chest.

‘Let me bring my hands up to your nipples which I can hardly see for hair. You gave mine a nice pinch so let me do the same for you. All Turks love their nipples played with.’

As the barber started to work his nipples so Sam groaned with pleasure moving his arse in and out against the barber.s cock.

‘Christ that is amazing it so turning me on. Squeeze them harder’

Good I like to squeeze Turkish nipples. And you have a really big pair with extended nipple heads. Is that better? These will hsow nicely through all your shirts and everyone can see what a big pair of Turkish tits you have.’

‘It’s fucking fantastic.’

‘You like your new chest?’

‘It’s like a dream. I feel much more a real man. My arse feels bigger and more round and am I right is saying its hairy.’

‘It’s very hairy, all the way inside that nice crack of yours and you now have a big bubble butt and bigger hole so my cock sits well inside you.’

‘I’ts no longer sore and I want you to increase your rythmn I’m so wanting you to come inside me I can feel those thick pubes of your rubbing against my hairy arse. Shit it’s great.

‘Don’t worry “m coming round to put my hands on that cock of your but first I need to rub my hands over your face and head so close your eyes and just enjoy me thrusting faster and faster inside you.’

The more the barber thrust the more Sam pushed his arse back to see the full length of the thick shaft. He wanted every inch as he felt the barber’s hands rub against his face. As he rubbed he could feel that his face was no longer smooth but it was almost as though there was a brush in between his face and the barbers hands. His head felt different and that trim he came in for was as though he had had a very close cut even more than a number one.’

‘Now open your eyes. Look at yourself and the man you are’

The face staring back at him was no longer the wholesome blond Brit. The face he looked at in the mirror could for him almost have been a criminal. He was completely bald, shaven with a shiny top but from the top of his ears there was a thick black beard and moustache. So thick he could hardly see his mouth. The beard was at least 3inches long and took up all his chin and neck all the way down to where it met his hairy chest. He had a brown face, a squashed nose as if it could have been broken in a fight and thick bushy black eyebrows. He looked exactly like a middle eastern thug, a Turkish thug but he looked a man and man that no one would tamper with. He looked every part a man who would dominate but here he was being now aggressively fucked and loving the large cock inside him.

‘Now you look like a man. Makes me even more horny to fuck you like a brother Turk. I need to cum soon but first let me put my hands of your cock so you come at the same time.

The barber moved his hands down to grip Sam’s cock who was still staring at his new face.

‘Now look down’

Sam looked and what had been a good 6 incher before was now 9” and thick like the barber with such a forest of dark pubes. Now Sam looked just like a masculine tough nut Turk. He was ready to come just staring at his new tool and he could feel the barber’s cock in him pulsating ready to shoot his load of cum.

‘If you are ready we both cum but I tell you this is a new beginning and you will feel at first for a short time a bit different but don’t worry it’s all part of what you want.’

‘I hope so.’ shouted Sam, ‘Just let me have everything you have and let me feel your pubes right up against my hairy arse as you cum so I am about to shoot.’

And with that the barber

Shouted ‘Fuck you Turk be one of us.’

As Sam felt the spunk shoot up his arse so his own cock exploded, arches of cum hitting the mirror and running down, great creamy drops.

When he opened his eyes after his orgasm everything seemed a bit cloudy not just his eyes but his brain. He was struggling to think what to say in English. He thought he knew what to say but he was rapidly forgetting words and instead other words of a foreign tongue were in his mind

‘I feel …. ‘He managed to say in English but even those two words he noted were in a much deeper voice and with a strong accent. It did not sound like his voice.

‘Tell me what you are thinking in your preferred language.’ The barber said

Sam said in a rasping deep voice in Turkish ‘That was a fucking great fuck.’

‘Yes Samir only we know how to fuck like real men. Welcome my Cousin.’ This was no longer Sam looking at himself in the mirror, it was now Samir.

‘Tell you what cousin I look fucking great. A hairy Turk with a huge dick and now you and I have a Turkish coffee and cigarette and then I fuck the living daylights of you. One favour deserves another. We keep it is the family eh?’

‘I get you good job in nightclub Samir.’

‘Sure Cousin, I like a good fight. No one gets on the wrong side of me.’

‘A tough Turk and a good fuck.’

‘Yeah but now time for you to turn round and I give you a good Samir fuck’

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donamori · 6 months ago

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Please indulge me to speak at length about Don Quixote (post Warp Express Intervello)

Unfortunately, this will be riddled with spoilers, however, I'm not necessarily making this post to make any real predictions. I'm mostly just collecting my thoughts, crafting some theories, and talking at length about my thoughts on the upcoming canto, their possible themes, and to gush and wail about my most favoritest sinner ever. If you've finished Murder on the Warp Train then feel free to continue

Alright, end of the most recent Intervello, it was revealed (much to my surprise at least) that Don Quixote, our pride and joy and ever most excellent knight-errant, is in fact a Bloodfiend. A bloodfiend who apparently has their true form suppressed by Rocinante, the shoes Don wears that are named after the steed Don Quixote rides upon in the book.

This new reveal has millions of possibilities forming in my head for the upcoming Canto and here's the gist of what I've kind of formed and gathered from what we know so far in the world of Limbus and Project Moon as a whole, what I personally know about Miguel De Cervantes and his works, and the general thematic ties that are now unfurling within my noggin that I'm trying to spool together in this nice little indulgent post.

Let's start with Miguel De Cervantes:

For those who may not know, Cervantes is the author of Don Quixote, born in 1547, died in 1616. A few important tidbits that I think will be important in the upcoming Canto-

youtube

Something that has been known for awhile is that Don's battle sprite does not list her name as Don Quixote but as Miguel. For awhile now I had been wondering if within Don Quixote's Canto we are going to receive some sort of reveal that Don Quixote is actually Miguel De Cervantes. Originally the basis of this theory I had was a quote from Cervantes about how "[he] would not exist without Don Quixote." (Something that was expanded upon in a lecture about Cervantes and Don Quixote that I found on youtube). In fact a large portion of that lecture, which I will link here, contributed to this idea I had built up in my head about the relationship between Miguel and Don.

What this essentially culminates to in my mind is that the Bloodfiend will reveal that they are Miguel, but for some reason or another, they "became" Don Quixote. So, in many loose adaptions of Don Quixote, this connection is typically made. In my personal favorite adaption, The Man of La Mancha, a musical about the book, they present the story of Don Quixote as a play for prisoners after Miguel Cervantes himself is arrested. And who is the man that plays Don? None other than Cervantes himself!

(you should really give it a watch, it's a lovely musical)

Now, within the book of Don Quixote itself, our titular hero sadly perishes at the end. He loses to the Knight of the Mirror (who is actually the Bachelor Sanson Carrasco, a man hired by Don's family to bring him home) and returns home. He then dies in his bed after renouncing the name of Don Quixote and all of his adventures. Saying with much seriousness that he is not Don Quixote, but Alonso Quijana. He leaves money to Sancho and his estate to his niece and then soon passes (after a heartfelt appeal from Sancho to return to adventuring together once more.)

After his death, the book ends with the author who is detailing Don Quixote's history writing this final paragraph-

"For me alone was Don Quixote born, and I for him; it was his to act, mine to write; we two together make but one, notwithstanding and in spite of that pretended Tordesillesque writer who has ventured or would venture with his great, coarse, ill-trimmed ostrich quill to write the achievements of my valiant knight... And I shall remain satisfied, and proud to have been the first who has ever enjoyed the fruit of his writings as fully as he could desire; for my desire has been no other than to deliver over to the detestation of mankind the false and foolish tales of the books of chivalry, which, thanks to that of my true Don Quixote, are even now tottering, and doubtless doomed to fall for ever. Farewell.”

I've paraphrased it a bit, but you get the gist. While the author detailing Don Quixote's history is a fictional author made up by Cervantes, I believe it is a cheeky way of Cervantes to insert himself in the story and express his true feelings here.

Now, with Cervantes and Donqui being one and the same I believe the strong thematic thread tying this all together is one of dreams. It's now known to us this whole time that Don Quixote is in fact, both dream and dreamer. The monster that Don Quixote is sleeps while they allow for their true self to live, ever dreaming. But now that Dream is Ending.

I think we're going to see the 'death' of Don Quixote and some sort of joining of Miguel and Don. I think Miguel wants to keep dreaming. They are a bloodfiend, a horrible monster, one of the more powerful beings that are mentioned in Project Moon's games. But i think that Miguel doesn't want that. I think that Miguel wants to be cured. Something that has never really been done for a bloodfiend, an impossible dream, perhaps?

I think in Don's Canto we're going to see what we see within the book. Miguel/Don's family trying to get him to come back, to stop him, to get him to give up on this silly dream of Knight-Errantry. And I believe Dante will finally be able to help Miguel take the first steps towards realizing this impossible dream.

Some small little thoughts that I've had that i think push this a bit further.

Don Quixote was written by Miguel when he was 50 while he was in prison.

I've been wondering now whether this cell we see Donqui in within her base ego was actually some sort of representation of this. Don Quixote was born while Miguel was locked away. This looming shadow of Rocinante keeping the Sangre De Sancho locked away within this small starry-eyed girl <3

Nothing that I really have any like, evidence for, but based on vibes I think representing the specific sort of Spaniard from this time period as some sort of high class vampire is excellent and really fits thematically as well.

Cervantes has a bunch of quotes about the nature of oneself and death (bloodfiends are undead). Some that I think are quite fitting are :

“A Man Without Honor is Worse than Dead.”

“Take my advice and live for a long, long time. Because the maddest thing a man can do in this life is to let himself die.”

“I know who I am and who I may be, if I choose.”

“When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies? Perhaps to be too practical is madness. To surrender dreams — this may be madness. Too much sanity may be madness — and maddest of all: to see life as it is, and not as it should be!”

and finally, to conclude this,

“All I know is that while I’m asleep, I’m never afraid, and I have no hopes, no struggles, no glories — and bless the man who invented sleep, a cloak over all human thought, food that drives away hunger, water that banishes thirst, fire that heats up cold, chill that moderates passion, and, finally, universal currency with which all things can be bought, weight and balance that brings the shepherd and the king, the fool and the wise, to the same level. There’s only one bad thing about sleep, as far as I’ve ever heard, and that is that it resembles death, since there’s very little difference between a sleeping man and a corpse.”

If you read this whole thing, thank you for indulging me. I greatly appreciate it.

#don quixote #don quixote lcb #limbus company #project moon #Youtube

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lostbookmark · 2 months ago

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MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Finding Masterlist here

Summary: After a failed engagement, you move back home and reconnect with your friends. Maybe, just maybe you can find love with someone you never expected.

Pairing: Yoongi x F. Reader

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Swearing, Cheating (Not Yoongi), Fighting, Unprotected Sex, Protected Sex, Toxic Past Relationship,

Genre: Enemies(?) to Lovers, Neighbors to Lovers, Small Town romance. Hurt-Comfort, Slight Angst, Romance

A/N: The first few chapters will be just plot. Smut lovers need to wait until chapter 5. Also, a couple of readers that wanted to be tagged I couldn't tag you. Your name wouldn't pop up for me to click on.

“Last box,” Hobi said, bringing in the last of your belongings and placing it on your kitchen table that you pulled out of your parent’s dusty storage unit earlier in the day.

As much as you love Hobi, you couldn't live with him forever in his small two bedroom apartment anymore. Jungkook had texted you about a house that he had recently renovated on a plot of land that they owned near the neighboring Tannie Farms. He had offered to rent it to you before putting it out there for the public. He said he would rather have family in it and not some stranger that he can't trust. You quickly accepted his offer and started packing your clothes the same day. Hobi begged you to stay a little longer, but you know that you were holding him back. Your social butterfly of a best friend started to cancel plans and dates to stay with you because you wanted to become a hermit and not leave your bed. It wasn't fair. You wanted him to happily live his life, and you knew he wouldn't if you were still there.

Your mother and father, thankfully, offered to let you raid their garage and storage unit for anything that you wanted to take for your new home. It was mostly junk that they were glad to get rid of. This way, they didn't have to worry about how they were going to throw it away. You came away with an old dark oak table and a couple of matching chairs that both wobbled a little bit. You are going to need to shove something under the legs to stabilize them. You also took a lumpy couch that used to be white in color but has since turned a dingy gray color after being stored away for so many years. Your old mattress from high school that you're almost positive will kill your back but is better than sleeping on the floor and a dresser whose drawers won't open without a fight. You did, however, pass on a large area rug due to the fact that it smelled like something had died in it. They weren't the best, but it was better than having nothing at all. You'll be able to save up for better furniture later for your new house at a later date.

The two story white farmhouse with black rustic looking shutters was absolutely beautiful, and you fell in love as soon as you saw it. It was tucked away on a back road that was pure dirt several miles out of the main town square where it sat on perfectly manicured green grass. The wrap-around porch was decorated with various potted flowers, both big and small, in a range of beautiful colors. Large black solar powered lanterns lay scattered along around the perimeter of the dark wooden porch that emits a warm glow after sunset, setting a cozy and welcoming atmosphere. A large porch swing sat on the back of the porch has a perfect view of Tannie Farms in the far horizon where their crops seem to go on forever. Where the stalks of corn sway in the breeze around the various tractors and other farm equipment that sat in their cornfield. It was a picture-perfect view.

The house itself had large floor to ceiling windows with french doors that have matching black trim all encased in brand new white siding. Inside, the new hardwood floors and freshly painted beige walls were perfectly clean and crisp looking. He was able to give it the perfect blend of modern and cozy at the same time. However, the best part was the quiet. It was so serene and peaceful that you were afraid that the silence might scare you after being away from it for so many years. You never got to have serene or peaceful when you lived in the city in a busy apartment complex along the main street of a popular area. Sirens, honking cars and yelling were a part of your everyday life. After a few months, they just became background noise that blurred into your daily life. Changkyun also always preferred to have friends over at all hours for drinks and music. He didn't care if you needed to sleep or if you had to get up early. He only cared about impressing his friends. You couldn't even complain, or it would start a fight. He told you all the time that you were not on the lease, so it wasn't your decision. It was miserable, and looking back, you don't know why you stayed as long as you did.

There was, however, just one thing that Jungkook seemed to have forgotten to tell you about until after you had signed the contract and handed it back to him. That your one…singular neighbor, who you also have to share a large driveway with happened to be Min Yoongi. You thought it was a well thought out move on his end. Kook said that you wouldn't even see him since he is pretty much at the farm most of the day. It didn't really help put you at ease, but it didn't scare you away either. It was time to grow up and move forward. Like Hobi has said. You were adults, and it's time to put all the bullshit away.

“Coming through,” Jungkook called out as he and Tae came through your door carrying your super old double mattress from high school.

They head up stairs carrying it above their heads as you follow behind them and enter your bedroom. They toss it on the floor, and you can see a cloud of dust fly out of it. The particles linger suspended in the air. You'll have to figure out how to clean it later. The guys look at each other and then around the bare room in confusion. You ignore them and push the mattress into the corner of your room with your foot and give them a smile.

“What?” You ask them as you watch them as they continue to look around the barren room. “What's the matter?”

“Don't you have a bed frame?” Tae asks, scratching his head.

“Or a box spring?” Kook added a second later.

“No, I didn't see them earlier. I think my mom might have gotten rid of them. It's not a big deal. I’m just happy I don't have to sleep on the hard floor or the lumpy couch,” you say with a shrug. Down stairs, you hear a crash and something break.

“I'll buy you a new one,” Joon called up the stairs.

You sigh and head back downstairs to see what your loveable but clumsy friend broke. Thankfully, it was just a vase used for decoration that you had bought on sale and held no sentimental value. Shooing him away from the mess, you take over the clean-up carefully, avoiding cutting yourself of the sharp shards of colorful glass.

You couldn't be more thankful for them than you already were. You were thankful for Jin when he dropped off dinner for you since you haven't gotten geroceries yet. You were thankful for Jungkook for offering you the house. Also, for everyone else who helped you move things from your parent's storage unit and garage to the house doing all the heavy lifting for you. You really did love them. They were here. They never gave up on you.

“Are you going to be okay here alone? What if it's haunted?” Hobi asked, giving you wide, scared eyes. “You can always stay one more night with me if you're scared. You know I don't mind.”

“It's not haunted,” Jungkook said, rolling his eyes.

“Besides, she’s not completely alone,” Jimin said, looking at you with a knowing smirk and a wink. “Yoongi is just right over there.”

You curse yourself for letting it slip to Jimin one drunken night bar hopping in college that you may have found Yoongi attractive. You distinctly remember him and Kook playing darts in one of the darkened bars that your group frequented. You remember the way he bit his lip in concentration as his fingers held the dart, his dark hair falling over a red headband around his forehead. You just blurted it out loud without thinking as you sat with Jimin at a little table against the wall. The little shit never let you live it down when the two of you were alone. You are actually surprised, though, that it still seems to be a secret between only the two of you. You guess you can be thankful for that.

“I'll be fine,” you tell him, dismissing his concerns. “You guys can go. I have the first day of school tomorrow, and I need to get things around.”

Namjoon had agreed and helped round everyone up by the kitchen door. After a round of goodbyes and thank yous, you waved from your kitchen door as they dispersed. Kook, Tae, and Jimin went next door to Yoongi’s and the others left in their cars. You collapsed on your lumpy couch with a sigh. Closing your eyes, you tell yourself you'll unpack tomorrow. Laying there, you take in the quietness of the house. It was something that you would have to get used to. There was no extra body puttering around and making background noise. No, Hobi, singing early in the morning as he got ready for work. Just the hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the clock were the only things that could be heard. For the first time, it was just you. You had never lived alone, but you felt excited to see how you were going to do. It was going to be a welcomed new adventure, and you couldn't wait to see how you'll do.

You stand on the sidewalk in front of the school with your students smashed together in a yellow square that was taped off just for them as you waited for their parents to pick them up. Your first day of school went surprisingly well for the most part. When Joon found out you were back in town for good, he offered you a teaching position at your old elementary school where you had once attended. The exact same one where Jin and Hobi became your best friends. Where Jin shared his sandwich with you when you forgot your lunch in the third grade. Where you had to beat up some little boy for making fun of Hobi's shoes when you were six. You don't even remember his name now, but you gave him a bloody nose, and your dad had to pick you up early. It was a lot smaller than what you remembered. It always seemed so big when you were younger and playing on the playground, running around laughing, playing tag. When you all were so innocent and free back then.

You were initially excited that you didn't have to job hunt in the surrounding school districts, but you went into panic mode when Namjoon dropped the bomb on you. It was for Pre-K. You never taught such young kids before. You always had fourth graders in the past. Ten year olds. Ten year olds who could, for the most part, listen when they wanted to and take care of themselve. They didn't need to be taught to walk in a straight line or to raise their hand if they needed something. They knew how to zip their coats, put on gloves, and tie their shoes. These were some things that you never thought about having to teach, but yet here you were.

You didn't know anything about four year olds. All that you knew was that they were loud and sticky, and their bathroom habits were iffy at best. Thankfully, Joon, pretty much did your entire months worth of lesson plans for you, mostly to bribe you into saying yes to his job offer. All you had to do was follow his directions until you got the hang of it for yourself. Coloring, writing their name, singing, and dancing it all seemed pretty simple. Seven hours of playtime, easy, peasy.

Not quite. A few things you learned today were that they like to run and you need better antiperspirant. Do not..... repeat..... do not wear heels again. No matter how short you think the heel is….it's still too tall. You will need to buy several pairs of comfy flats and tennis shoes. Always do head count because you might have thought you lost one child between the art room and your classroom. Turns out he was just hiding under a table in the corner of the room. However, when it was all said and done, there were no tears from either you or the kids. You will take it as a win.

“Bye, Jae,” you say, waving at your last student that was picked up by her parents. You let out a sigh of relief as you watched them walk away as she held their hands, skipping between them. Good riddance, and now you get to do it all again tomorrow.

“Y/n,” a voice said your name, making you turn toward it. You smile slightly when you see the school’s music teacher standing behind you.

“Yes, can I help you…” You trail off, clearly not remembering his name.

“Shinwon,” he said, holding his hand out for you to shake. You politely shake his hand and look at him expectly. “I just wanted to check in and see how your first day was. I know a new school and new city can be intimidating.”

“Oh, no,” you say, shaking your head. “I grew up around here so…not new. I know this place very well.”

“Oh,” he said with a surprised smile, and he tilted his head to the side like he was amused. “I was going to offer to show you around our little sleepy town, but I guess you know it better than I do, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you say with a shrug and look around, trying to find a way to get out of this conversation when you spot Namjoon, who was walking to his car. When you finally catch his attention, he just waves at you happily before getting into his car. You think you see him laughing. Jerk.

“Well, then maybe you can show me some hidden gems around here,” he says and hands you his phone. “Here, put your number in, and I'll text you mine.”

You take his phone and input your information very reluctantly. You consider giving him a fake number, but that would probably make things super awkward later. You hand it back to him, and he smiles brilliantly at you, his perfect teeth on display. You watch as his fingers fly across the screen before he looks back up to you.

“I sent you a text,” he tells you. “Maybe we can hang out someday. We could possibly go into the city and do something?”

“Listen, I just got out of a relationship,” you started to tell him, but he cut you off.

“No, problem,” he said, still smiling. “It doesn't have to be a date. We can do something just as friends. Friends have dinner all the time. Maybe we can even see a movie one night.”

“Maybe, if I can find the time,” you say with a tight smile. “I should go, but it was nice meeting you.”

You turn on your heel and quickly walk away as fast as your aching feet can carry you, leaving him standing there alone. Yup, definitely tennis shoes from now on. You will be able to keep up with the kiddos better and, more importantly, run away from men faster. Perfect.

Getting out of your car, you grimace as your aching feet hit the hard cement of the garage floor. You didn't mean to slam your car door so hard as you begin to limp and waddle your way up to your house in a desperate need to soak your feet in your tub. You can almost sigh in satisfaction at the thought of the hot water surrounding you as you lie there in the clawfoot tub until your fingers turn pruny. As the hot, steaming water relaxes your muscles, taking away the ache from your feet as you drop a bath bomb that fizzes while listening to music and maybe…probably drink some wine.

“Bad first day of school?” You recognize Yoongi's voice behind you, causing you to freeze. You're embarrassed that he caught you walking like an idiot.

“No,” you answer truthfully as you give him a surprised look when you turn to look at him.

“It is the first day, right?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you before popping the hood of a side-by-side that sat on his side of the driveway. “Joon mentioned something about it yesterday.”

“Yeah, umm… it was pretty good. I might have a blister and an unwanted admirer, but hey, no one stuck anything where it didn't belong. So, good day.” You explain not expecting the conversation to go much further.

You were surprised when he actually started laughing. You don't think you have ever made Min Yoongi laugh. It was a good look on him. You wouldn't mind if he did more around you.

“Please tell me it's not some single dad?” he asks once he stops laughing. He uses the wrench in his hand to tinker around with mechanical things that are beyond your knowledge. You can drive a car but that's about it. You just pray that you never get a flat tire in the middle of nowhere. Triple A is a thing, right?

“Worse, the music teacher. He offered to show me around town,” you say with a nod of your head. “Like what was he going to show me? Jin’s cafe?”

“I mean. We do have a new hardware store in town,” he informs you while he concentrates on his task. “Maybe he can show you where the screws are.”

A small silence falls between the two of you as you look around in contemplation.

“Is that..” You start but pause for a second, and you feel your face heat up. “Is that supposed to be sexual?”

“I don't know what you are talking about,” he said innocently and smirked at you as his eyes met yours through the fallen blonde hair in his eyes. He shakes it out of his vision and continues with his task. You shake your head at him, limping and waddling your way up the stairs to your house. “Wait, I have some of your mail. Let me go get it.”

You lean your hands against the railing of the porch as he disappears in his house. You take turns lifting each foot off the ground behind you and giving it a little wiggle, hoping to find some sort of relief. He better hurry because all you want to do is sit down. You continue your little foot routine when you hear the squeak of his screen door open and Yoongi walks across the driveway to you. Reaching up, he hands you a singular piece of mail over your railing that you take from him, and he retreats back to the side-by-side. You sigh in annoyance when you see what he gave you.

“To the current resident….” You say loudly. “Do you need to lower your cable costs? You really felt the need to give me this junk mail?”

“It would have been a federal offense if I hadn't,” he answered while not even looking at you.

“Well, thanks,” you say sarcastically and turn back toward the house. You pull out your mess of keys that jingle and jangle with too many keychains as you unlock your door.

“Y/N,” Yoongi calls out again, making you look over your shoulder at him once again. “I would have helped…you know….yesterday when you moved in. I just figured that you wouldn't want me there.”

That made you feel horrible. You felt like a horrible human being who is still acting childish over some weird grudge from college. If what Hobi said was true, it was only one-sided on your part. Your shoulders slump just a little bit before you turn back to him once again. His hands are fiddling with that wrench looking a little nervous as he tries not to stare at you for too long. The wrench makes quite the clicking sound as he turns it over and over again as he twirls it with his finger. He glances up at you quickly before turning his eyes back to the silver tool in his hand.

“I appreciate it,” you tell him as you tap that piece of junk mail on the palm of your opposite hand just as nervous. “Maybe, if you want to, that is. Maybe we can start over again and actually try to be friends for once.”

“Yeah, sure, sounds good,” he rambles, agreeing with you, trying to nod his head nonchalantly. “Hey, are you going to help out at the Farmers Market again? The guys think you will bring more business in.”

“I highly doubt that, but yeah, I can come and help again,” you answer with a nod of your head. “Have a good evening, Yoongi,” you say with a small smile on your lips.

“You too,” he says, eyes watching you until you unlock the door.

Finally, getting into your house, you close the door and lock it behind you. You reach down undo the straps of your shoes and proceed to kick them off with a careless fling of your foot, not caring where they land as you hear them hit the floor with a thump. You waddle your way to that old dirty couch and flop down unceremoniously with a groan. You think your aching feet hurt more now than they did in the heels. Your nice hot bath with your wine and the bath bomb is going to have to wait until you get enough motivation to stand up, and that might not be anytime soon. You might have to put off unpacking one more day.

You turn your head and look out your living room window. You can see Yoongi with the top half of his body bent over and working away on the vehicle on his side of the driveway. You never thought in a million years that you would be friends with the cute, popular basketball player turned handsome neighbor. You smile a little as you continue to stare at him, and you think you might feel a little fluttering in your stomach. You're going to have to squish those butterflies. That flapping, flitting feeling that you haven't felt in years makes your body tingle in excitement. Your heart was not ready for that feeling. It wasn't ready at all.

Tagged Readers

@mar-lo-pap, @bontensbabygirl, @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs, @redragdoll, @svnbangtansworld,

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