#I'll get off my soap box now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

downtherabbitholewithlucy · 2 years ago

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“I was 12 years old when I started playing guitar and I mowed lots of lawns. I still haven’t gotten good. I’m not a good musician. That’s why I wear what I wear on stage to cover up for why I’m such a terrible guitar player. So they’ll [the audience] go “Oh look, look what he’s wearing!” and they just go “Look how, look how weird that guy looks!” and then, and then they go “Wait a minute, we didn’t even check if he was playing.” ”

- Wes Borland

________________________________________________________

SPIN Magazine: Why create such an elaborate spectacle?

Borland: It’s like ritualistic war paint I’m the cherry on top, the sore thumb that makes the band stick out. I don’t fit in and that’s just what makes it work. I don’t think I can ever go back to wearing normal clothes on stage. It’s totally a mask, something to hide behind. It’s really easy to get confidence when people aren’t looking at what you are in the mirror every day. I get self-conscious. And if I can shroud my whole body behind a façade. I feel great knowing there’s a shield to deflect any humiliation I might feel.

________________________________________________________

Guitar.com: You tend to wear bizarre costumes onstage and those wild, black contact lenses. What's the deal with that?

Borland: It just covers me up as much as possible so I don't ever have to ever show all of myself. I've always been into collecting masks and wearing masks onstage. It's more fun for me because I draw and do a lot of art work in the band. It just makes it more fun to be able to do it on myself just to try to turn myself into different characters. To look like an alien or something. I think it makes it more fun for fans too.

Guitar.com: Do you enjoy being a celebrity?

Borland: [Our singer] Fred [Durst] loves it. But I just don't think I'll ever be able to understand the whole human being worship aspect of it. People going, "Man, you're a guitar god," and I go, "Where?" And I'm glad that I'm making an impact on some people's lives, but I'm the kind of person who would rather be respected for what I'm doing than who I am. The masks and costumes are a way of avoiding all of that.

________________________________________________________

The Believer: Did you always dress up onstage?

Borland: Yes. I went to an arts high school, and had always been interested in sculpture and painting and drawing. Guitar kind of became a hobby of mine, and I had seen David Bowie and Kiss and Alice Cooper and Marilyn Manson—even GWAR—and so when I started playing in garage bands I started doing little things onstage that were nothing more than a mask or minor makeup, because the stage seemed like such an opportunity to do something outrageous. And it kept growing and growing and growing. When Limp got signed, that changed my aspirations from being in fine art. Being a musician was the job I didn’t expect, and I ended up going, “How can I incorporate this?”

The Believer: By the time we saw you on MTV, you had incorporated it. The makeup was not minor.

Borland: Well, I was bored. There’s so much downtime on tour. I ended up going around and finding thrift stores and costume shops in towns, spending whatever per diem or money I had on makeup and lipstick, and I started putting outfits together. And as the band gained more success—like, suddenly I didn’t have to carry anything or tune my guitars—I had more resources for stage outfits, and I started thinking about the show all the time.

The Believer: On TV you seem to have two personas. The polite, uncomfortable guy on camera feels different than the bunny monster, whose energy is both very aggressive and very engaged.

Borland: It’s what allows me to have that power. And I’ve noticed that the more elaborate the costumes got over the years, the more they developed into characters, the more I felt like someone else. It’s like pulling on a shirt, but having the Superman symbol underneath. There is also a very different character I have in Black Light Burns, my other band. I grow my hair and mustache out, and wax the mustache and then paint it on even bigger. I’ll wear period clothing that looks like Bill the Butcher. But in that band I’m the singer, so I don’t wear any contact lenses, because I feel that takes the audience away from me. When my eyes are dead and black-looking, I lose a connection with people who are looking at the singer to connect with the band, so I won’t do that.

The Believer: How did your bandmates feel about playing hard rock/ rap with someone dressed like a vanilla gorilla?

Borland: At first I tried to get the other guys to dress up, too, but they didn’t want to do it, so that sort of became the thing in Limp Bizkit—you’ve got a bunch of guys who look like normal dudes, and then one guy who dresses like a space alien or a zombie. But soon I started getting into more-serious art and artists, then started going to the opera. I went to The Damnation of Faust that the L.A. Opera put on, like, eight years ago, and was just thrilled by the costumes. So I started researching opera-costume makers and stage makeup, and it just built and built.

The Believer: Your costumes never seem to connote just one thing, like one thing that’s scary, one thing that’s ironic. What comes to mind right now is the Technicolor lounge-singer phantom who’s not wearing any pants.

Borland: Oh, yeah! The prom outfit. The hair for that is made of feathers. But all the characters come from what effect I want to put out. That’s the main thing: everything onstage has to make me feel, in some way, tapped into this little-boy thing, where I want to be a superhero or I want to be a warrior. I want to be filled with all this energy that comes from tricking myself into thinking that I’m more powerful than I am, or have more confidence than I would be capable of in normal clothes. It’s just becoming a monster in some way, and that helps me go out in front of ten thousand people and act like I own the place.

#i will never stop being fascinated by his abundance of creativity #people like wes that are so creative in many different forms and the things they come up with from their inspirations and imagination #are so interesting to me #and his reasoning behind it all is so honest and genuine. I feel like a lot of people can relate to it #but unfortunately most people slap on the freak or weird label and moving on before giving themselves the chance to really understand and #realize that they can relate to a thought process such as this #anyways i'll get off my soap box now #i just want an ounce of wes' creativity #Wes Borland #Limp Bizkit #nu-metal #Black Light Burns #down the rabbit hole

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origamiplushie · 9 months ago

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I'm not like, the realistic fic or anachronism police.

I fully believe that historic fic does not necessarily need to be fully historically accurate. If the characters mention a book or movie or invention that actually came out a few years later, that is fine and such a minor detail, there's really no need to fuss over it.

Or like if someone decides to knowingly and purposefully rewrite history in their fic, that is their right as the author. If they want to erase full wars or cultural norms they should do so!

But sometimes when the change seems more unknowing it takes me out of the fic for a second and I just think 'they would not do that then'.

In this case something I see super often in Stranger Things smut fics is the whole "When were you last tested?", "Oh, I'm clean" discussion. And I get wanting to avoid the AIDS shaped elephant in the room, it's a smut fic after all. But uh... You guys do know that those are the kind of confident promises we today are very privileged to make, right?

The first test to screen for HIV was licensed in 1985. It wasn't even meant for testing individuals, it was made for screening donated blood to make sure it was safe. And just to lean on the side of of precaution, it had a lot of false positives.

Even then, wanting to be tested was looked on with suspicion. Why do you want to be tested, hmm? Are you a drug user? What are you, gay?

It wasn't until March 1986 that the US government recommended periodic testing for people in high-risk groups.

It is so good that we treat making sure you're tested regularly if you're sexually active as a given, it really is! I'm just always reminded of how that wasn't always true when I see this reflected in fics.

#stranger things #sorry for ranting i've just been bothered by this for a while now #its exactly like when you read fics and think oh god they have no idea how a vcr or cassette tapes work #it's not a bad thing! I just always notice it #sorry again i'll get off my soap box now

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pinkslaystation · 7 months ago

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Tulips or Roses?

John Price x reader

In which you find John's old diary detailing his love for you his teammate and you begin to question his love for you. Word Count: 3.6k -> blurb - rose meets tulips

Being a civilian to a soldier was hard enough.

And it was even harder when your husband was a commander for one of the most skillful task force. So it wasn't unusual for him to be gone for long periods of time.

So on a random Friday evening, anticipating his arrival in the coming week, vacuuming the floors, cleaning the windows, you found yourself at the door of John's study, with was decorated with a glass name plate, with the words 'Study' accompanied with a painted heart created from blue and pink fingerprints from you and your husband.

John was never the man to tell you off if you entered his study, instead he encouraged it. He's beckoned you to bring him his evening tea to him, to give him a massage, sometimes when you wanted him, he'd allow you to help him under the desk, if you get what I mean. (speaking from experience ;>)

As you stepped into his room, you noticed the ceilings adorned with sizable white cobwebs, cringing at the apparent neglect of his study. When was the last time someone had even been here?

Sweeping his desk, wiping away the dust, you find a box underneath beside his chair, which prompted you to lifting it up and placing on top of the desk. Man, you underestimated it's weight. You struggled to lift a small but heavy moving box, and it caused a few books and papers to fall out.

You cursed at your clumsiness, picking up the loose sheets, until you fingers caught the spine of a red vintage-like book, which had the word 'diary' written on the front. You didn't take too much notice, skimming through the pages until you caught your name being mentioned a phew times.

You giggle, it's a diary probably with John confessing his love to you numerous time! You know you probably shouldn't look through it, I mean privacy exists, but you just can't help it.

So you look through some of the infrequent entries, the oldest dating back to 10 years back, and the most recent one being nearly 4 years, when you and John had first met.

30th February 2010

Suffering in Afghanistan, the lads and I are stuck in the safe house for a week now. Rose is here too, I should ask her if she's okay.

Ahhh you remember this story. When the Task Force was stuck in the city of Kandahar, in the safe house. You also remember John's team, whom you are well-acquainted with, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Roach, Rose?

You skip through the boring entries, most of which are just John documenting his work-out plan and the places him and his team had visited.

5th July 2016

Gaz's going on and on about his lass. Someone tell him to talk to her at least, he doesn't even know her name! I keep bringing it up but he keeps mentioning when I'll talk to Rose.

You chuckled, assuming the chick was Gaz's current wife. But the last part caught your attention, Rose again? You remember John telling you that she'd retired, went back north to settle with her family now, so you don't think much of it, I mean they are team mates.

19th June 2017

Saw a cute kid and her mama, wishing I had kids, without this lifestyle. Rose wants a son but I don't particularly mind. Soap overheard our conversation and spammed me lols on Whatsapp, but I thought lol meant little old lady? I am a man though.

You raise your eyebrow at another mention of Rose, why doesn't he care if Rose wanted a son? You didn't realise how close your husband was to her.

2nd December 2018

Christmas this month with my boys. Rose invited me over for a smoke. Ghost rolls his eyes when I mentioned it to him, says I need to man up and make a move.

You squinted your eyes, rereading the entry, and hesitantly skipping to the next one.

7th April 2019

Drinks with my men (and Rose haha, she doesn't like being part of the men). It's her birthday and she wants to tell us something. She's got her red lips again. I'm excited, Soap kept nudging me the entire ride, that cheeky bugger.

Then immediately below it, an update: She's seeing someone.

You're slowly piecing the puzzle, though you don't want to assume anything.

21st August 2019

She came into my room crying, seems like it's not going well, good for me. I hope she's okay and she realises there's better fish in the sea. She hugged me, she smells like roses, I love floral scents. I tried leaning in, she says I'm like an older brother to her.

Your heart breaks a bit, sniffing at your freshly washed hair, which smelt like ... like roses.

You thought floral scents were YOUR thing.

You continued, to the next entry which was marked the date you remember meeting John for the first time at the pub. You force a smile, hoping the entry would lighten your mood.

30th November 2020

In the pub and bored. Rose brought her lad... they're back together. What does she see in him? Soap urges me to find someone else but my heart is set on someone, for a long time. Won't change. He keeps gesturing to a girl on the other end of the counter, she's pretty, but like a tulip. Not like a rose. Not like my Rose.

You grip at the notebook and you try your hardest not to rip the papers out of the book and set his entire study on fire.

You remember this day, when you were dragged to the pub by your friends after being dumped by your ex for another girl. You sat at one end of the counter, with tears in your eyes but one look at that buff Englishman on the other end and your mood flipped instantaneously, 180 degrees.

"Kelsey, look at that guy, Mr Army over there." You beckon towards John's direction, to your friend., slightly tipsy after a peg of beer.

Your friend looks at you with a raised eyebrow, then turns to the guy whose piqued your interest, "You should go for it." She encourages you.

So you get yourself 2 drinks and approach the guy, more confident that usual due to your alcoholic state. A beer would do.

"Hi, this seat empty?" You smile at him innocently.

All this time you had recalled a look of fondness towards you, when he'd first locked eyes with you. You remember bragging about how it had been love at first sight for the both of you, but thinking back, a feeling of doubt starts bubbling inside you.

"It's reserve- you know what. Take a seat."

You remember sitting next to him, passing him a drink, and telling him your name, "...and you are?" you question, although you see him wincing. At first you thought it was just an army thing, so guarded that even the slightest of movements would make him twitch.

But now you're questioning whether he really wanted to engage into a conversation with you.

The following hours, as you painfully recall, was filled with you talking about yourself and occasionally asking him after his life, though he gives you one word answers and frequent nods.

But that was just because he'd just come home from a mission right?

"...and he just broke up with me out of the blue! Like was my 12,000 followers on TikTok not good enough for you?" You chuckle, attempting to crack a joke. He smiles confused, and you note he's probably too old to understand what TikTok was.

"Sounds like an asshole, love." He replies.

"Hmm, he was...I- I just don't know what he'd leave me for her...like I gave you my everything, I was always with you through thick and thin and what, that wasn't enough for you?" You trail off, the effects of the 2nd beer hitting you.

"I understand dove, you just give 'em everything and they just find someone else. What does he have that I don't?" He spaces out, his eyes falling on his teammates sitting at a different table. You follow his gaze, smiling slightly when you lock eyes with one of his smirking subordinates, whom you know know as Soap.

"Those people, they're your team?" You question.

His eyes aren't on you though as he responds, "That mohawk, that's Soap, Ghost next to him, tough as steel but soft at heart, Gaz on the opposite, funny lad, Roach, good ol' Roach..."

You look at the woman to the right of 'Roach', taking in her beauty. Though she's sitting down, you can tell she's taller that you by least 4 inches, with a blonde pixie haircut and painted with a dark smokey eye. A deep smirk is plastered onto her plump ruby red lips as she looks at John Price finally talking to a woman that isn't her. She raises a hand, waving to the both of you, which is almost instantaneously reciprocated by John.

"And her?" You ask, head nudging towards the woman.

"Her...That's Rose. You should meet her, you would like her, but who doesn't..." His chuckle fades out and you at how his attention was fully directed to her. A sinking feeling told you that you should have backed off from the married man, but it disappeared when John pointed out her partner, with gritted teeth.

Your hands are gripping the pages at this point, as you recall memories from the diary from his point of view.

You turn the page to the next entry, dreading the words.

19th December 2020

Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.

Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub, I'm once again unfamiliar with the lingo, I'm not Simon?? She's nice but, not sure I see anything further than a friendship. Gaz and him are picking out an outfit for me, she wants to meet up for bowling apparently. I just want to be with Rose...

Clenching your fist, you shut the diary and toss it aside, feeling all kinds of emotions. Upset that John had never truly looked at you the way you'd looked at him. The way he never wanted you, like you wanted him.

Every time you'd seen him online on Whatsapp, but still hadn't opened your messages, he was ghosting you? Sure after a while of being friends, his behaviour gradually changed, accompanied with rapid texts, but you felt like this relationship was built on lies.

Did he even want to go bowling with you that day? Did you win because he purposely let you, because he was bored and wanted to go home, be with Rose instead? When he asked you to be his girlfriend, did he ask you with Rose in mind?

The ding of the oven stopped your trail of thoughts, so many questions swirling around your head. You walk out of the study, slamming the door behind you, the combined mess of dust and cobwebs remaining untouched.

The glass name plate falls to the ground, the edge shattering, with shards of clear glass laying dangerously on the wooden floor.

A couple of hours go by and the doorknob rattles at 8:45 P.M. on the dot. John was never late when he had to come home to you.

He reaches base at 7:30, drives exacting an hour to your shared home, after making a quick pit stop at the florists within 10 minutes to give you a freshly scented bouquet of red roses.

Roses. So that's why he'd give them you every time...

He makes sure to leave him 5 minutes of spare time, which was designated to flipping open a small metal notebook you'd gifted him, and writing his thoughts down. And once those 5 minutes were up, he places the notepad back into his jacket pocket and practically runs towards the front door.

"Dove, I'm home!" He exclaimed, gently placing his belonging on the floor, before walking into the living floor, where you sat on the sofa with your legs and arms crossed. (MY BITCH POSE IS NASTY)

"Sweetheart, you didn't run up to me at the door, you alright love?" He sits next to you, his calloused and freshly bruised arms rubbing your knee.

The silence was deafening and you couldn't find it in yourself to look at him after all you've read.

He takes it as a cue to continue, "I got you some roses, baby. Your favourite-"

"When did I say they were my favourite?"

John blinks at the interruption, "I mean, you don't like them? It's tradition to bring the same red roses for you every time I'm back..."

"And when did I say I liked them? Are they my favourite? Or are they her favourite?" You shift towards him, anger evident in your voice.

"Her? Who? Sweetheart, what's going on?"

"I mean, come on man, you like floral shit that much that now you're making me wear it?"

"You...don't like floral scents? Did you want tulips instead, baby?"

Your eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance by his confusion.

"It doesn't matter if I wanted tulips, John, it's the fact that YOU like roses. In fact you've like Roses this entire time! Don't act like you like tulips 'cos you don't- to be honest I don't think you ever have!" You rant, handing running through your hair.

"I mean I like both honey, roses are just, um, prettier?" He sounds like he's asking you rather than telling you.

"Of course roses are prettier to you- that's all that you're fucking used to you. It's always roses, roses, roses. You're so obsessed with fucking roses, you never gave tulips a bloody chance!"

"Are we still talking about flowers-"

"And when you do give tulips a chance, you're still thinking about roses- how red they are, how pretty they are, how they need to be watered every 5 fucking minutes, even then there's already someone to water those damn. Red. Roses."

"I- I mean I like tulips too, baby-"

"No. You don't. No, you don't. Tulips are just the safest options for you, cos someone already plucked out those fucking roses. Cos roses don't want you."

You're standing up now, and John's attempts to speak are futile with every sentence you shout.

"No. In fact, roses has never wanted you, roses look better with someone else, and ol' poor John has no more roses, so he goes and waters some unwanted tulips instead!"

John stands up, towering over your shaking frame, his hands come up to stroke your biceps, but he's pushed away.

"I mean, did John ever even like tulips? Or was he faking it cos he never got roses? Was tulips just the safe option? Does John still want roses after all the years tulips have been there for him?"

You left out a pained cry, you didn't even notice the tears leaking out of your eyes.

"Does John even like tulips? Does John even love tulips?"

His hands wipe your tears away, and he brings you into his chest, and you don't attempt to push him away this time.

"Does you even love me, John?" You break down into his arms, letting him carrying you into the bedroom, where he places you gently on the bed, while you hiccup through your uneven sobs. He smells the stench of wine through your shaking breath, whilst stroking your hair, and you slowly fall into a deep slumber with your head pressed against his still uniform-clad chest.

The clock hits midnight and John gets up, trying not to wake you up, grabbing his sweats from the drawer and walking to the bathroom across the hall, in order to not wake you up, from what looked like a well-needed rest.

As he trudges out of the bedroom and through the corridor, the reflection of the broken glass catches his eyes and he squints in the darkness, squatting down to pick a small shard. As he lifts the remains of the nameplate, hooking it back to the door, he steps over the mess into the study to retrieve a dust pan and brush.

Flicking the lights on, he's met with what looks like a scene from the reality TV show - Hoarders. So starts cleaning quickly, picking up the duster and bunching up the paperwork from the floor, the pot of pens that had seemed to be knocked down, the diary he'd used to write in...hold on-

Picking up the diary, John flicks through the entries, the book naturally opening to the last open slide.

He begins reading the last entry.

19th December 2020

Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.

Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub....

"Oh...my tulip, I've never loved roses as much as I loved you." He mumbles to himself, whilst simultaneously cringing at his previously written words, immediately throwing the book back on the floor.

It's past breakfast when you wake up, throat and eyes painfully dry from last night's crying session, forcing yourself to drag yourself to the bathroom. You've forgotten that John had come home last night, as your met with a familiar empty bed.

After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you walk downstairs, being face to face with the naked back of Captain John Price.

The smell of chocolate pancakes waft towards your nose, as you look around the kitchen, the room garnished with a variety of different flowered bouquets, with so many variations of plants.

Bundles of dahlias and lotuses, orchids and lilies, carnations and irises, roses and tulips.

John turns to your footsteps, smiling at his perfect woman.

"Baby, good mornin'" He greets you, placing a single rose into your hair, and pecking your forehead warmly.

"John, listen about last night-"

"It was the old diary, wasn't it?" he asks.

You nod, ashamed for your abrupt behaviour yesterday. John lifts your chin up, resting his forehead against yours.

"Rose never taught me how to love like you did."

"John, you don-" His pointer finger is pressed against your lips.

"Reading those words from the past, I can see how it may have painted a different picture of my feelings. But let me assure you, my love, that you are the one I adore with all my heart."

Your stroke his face, heart warming to his words.

"Every rose I brought home was a symbol of my love for you, not because it was her favorite, but because it reminded me of the beauty and grace that you bring into my life. And those tulips, they represent the new beginnings and the fresh start that we share together.

My love for you is unwavering and unconditional. You are my tulip, my true love, and I vow to cherish and adore you for all eternity. Please forgive me for any pain or doubt my past words may have caused."

"John..."

He hands you his notepad from from his back pocket, beckoning you to open it.

You look at the first entry.

19th February 2021

I mentioned how I journal sometimes to her, and she bought me a new notepad, it's cute how she calls it a diary. Things are looking good. Bowling's our thing, I let her win because seeing her smile means I've won too. I'm asking her out tonight, Soap cried real tears when I told him.

You turn the page.

20th July 2021

Our 6 month anniversary. Took her to a field of roses and tulips, though nothing compares to her beauty.

The next one.

17th September 2021

I seldom think of Rose, I have my tulip on my mind now. Rose retired, and the team celebrated last night. She hugged me and thanked me for being a good captain. She also acknowledged my previous feelings for her. Man that was uncomfortable, but I reassured her I'm with my tulip now. I love my tulip.

I've always preferred tulips anyway.

And the next.

5th July 2022

Our 500 day anniversary. I want to propose.

17th September 2022

She said yes!! She may be my fiance, but I've already started calling her my wife, not legally yet at least...illegally?

28rd December 2023

We married 30th November. The day we met. Xmas was amazing, I can't see myself with anyone but her. I'm getting deployed tomorrow though.

You look at the most recent entry, dated last night.

16th February 2024

Missed the valentines day with my missus. Hope these roses are enough, though I wanted to get something better. Tulips for my tulip. They ran out haha. Missed my girl, missed her like I've never missed someone before. Soap's right, deployment suck.

Tears welled up in your eyes, not from pain or doubt this time, but from overwhelming joy and love for the man standing before you.

"I'm sorry, John," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't mean to doubt your love."

He smiled, a genuine and heartfelt smile that reached his eyes, pulling you into a warm embrace. "No need for apologies, my tulip. Thank you for teaching me how to love."

And in that moment, amidst the scent of chocolate pancakes and fresh flowers, it felt like you love story was just beginning, filled with trust, forgiveness, and a deep, unwavering love for each other.

That should not have taken me 2 days to complete what in the world. Also if i was tulip, that old diary is going straight into a fire! Barbecue anyone? <3 Quick Notes: I head-cannoned Rose to look like Sergeant Calhoun from Fix-it-Felix lolololol woman crush fr i get u john boy I've decided to start a tag list! -> lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum

#call of duty #cod #john price #john price x reader #captain john price #john price angst #john price fluff #task force 141 #captain price

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penelopepine · 6 months ago

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Don't be a stranger! Pt. 5

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader

Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship, slight angst, mentioned past deaths

Upon entering the room Simon sees that Johnny and Gaz are already there talking to one another. Silently walking inside he takes a seat next to the others and places the box in front of them all.

“What’s this?” Gaz looks from Simon to the box.

“Cookies, I’ve been told I have to share.”

“These aren’t poisoned are they? Who are they from?”

"They're from his new lady friend! Ain’t that right Ghost?" Johnny interjects before he could answer.

It seems Johnny was still hunting for gossip about who it was that sent him a package, “Quiet down, MacTavish.”

Johnny and Gaz share a laugh between the two of them before both reach out for one of your treats. He had debated actually sharing these with them as he knows they'll be asking for more now. They'll start asking about you, and he won't be able to give them a clear answer; not yet anyway.

“Tell your lass that these are heavenly Lt.!” Johnny moans out as he takes a bite of one of your cookies.

The regret of sharing is already rearing its head it seems. He glares at the man and says, "MacTavish."

It was Gaz who noticed his discomfort right away from the other sergeant's comment. "Come on now, Soap don't antagonize him; Ghost will share what he wants when he's ready." He gives Simon a quick reassuring nod, "but really thank them for us for making these!"

"Will do."

It was at that moment when Price finally stepped inside the room as well, "Good evening lads, what's the reason for this?" He points at the box of treats in front of them with a questioning look on his face.

Johnny clearly goes to answer the question before Gaz hits him on the chest with a pointed look. He then looks towards him, clearly leaving Simon to answer with whatever he felt comfortable admitting about you. "A friend."

Price seemed shocked for a moment that he had even said that much, "Ah a friend; well you'll have to introduce sometime."

"Hmm."

Later he tells himself; later he would introduce you to the team. Once the two of you have spent more time together, maybe once the two of you were together.

Price claps his hands together once as he makes his way towards the front, “Now, let’s get started shall we!" The projector is turned on and the picture of a man appears on the screen. "This here is the man we're hunting for, and Laswell estimates this will be a 2 week op. So prepare yourselves for that lads."

It was the next day when Simon tried to call you. He hoped with each ring that you would pick up, he didn't want to leave you with a voice message before disappearing from you. Hearing your voice one last time before leaving would also ease his mind while away.

Just as he was about to give up and started to mentally prepare what he was going to say to you.

"Hey Simon! Everything ok, you're calling me a lot earlier than you normally would?" You sound worried, which is exactly the opposite of what he wants right now.

"Love, everything is alright. Just letting you know that I'm not going to be available for a few weeks."

It's quiet for a few seconds before you respond, "When are you getting sent out?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"You'll be safe won't you?"

"I'll do my best." Simon would do anything for you; all you needed to do was ask, "and I'll always have a piece of you to remind me to do that." He smiles down at the bracelet, and lightly fidgets with the heart charm.

You give a soft laugh over the phone, "You'll have to make me one next time you’re here. That way I'll have a piece of you too."

He promises to himself that he'll do that for you. As soon as this op is finished he's going to talk to Price about going on leave again. The man already has an idea of what is going on so hopefully he won't question him too much. Considering every other time he was practically dragged off base and forced to go on leave.

"I will, love. I'll also see how soon I can visit again after I get back to base."

"Just let me know when and I'll be there to walk you home from the car!"

The two of you continue to talk for a few more minutes before saying your goodbyes to one another. He can't wait to finish this op and get home to you.

The last two weeks have been absolute hell, but it was all hopefully going to come to an end in just a few hours. All there was to do now was wait; which led him to laying down right next to Johnny as they watched the warehouse.

“I spy with my little eye something…blue.” Johnny whispers next to him. This has been going on for 10 mins now and he was debating with himself if killing the sergeant would be worth it.

“Johnny.”

“Wrong, guess again.”

Killing him is becoming more and more worth it, “Hush.”

“You’re no fun Lt.” Johnny pouted before changing into a gin, “How’s Beads doing by the way?”

“Beads?”

Johnny points to where the bracelet usually sits on his wrist, “Beads, your lass!”

Simon had almost forgotten that he had seen the bracelet while he was moving it to a more secured pocket on his vest. “If I tell you, will you stop being so annoying about this?”

“Cross my heart!”

"Beads," He doesn't necessarily like the nickname, but he doesn't feel comfortable saying your name right now, "Is doing good. She loved the rock you tripped over."

"You fucking sent her that rock?"

"It's displayed in her living room and everything."

When Johnny doesn't immediately respond he looks towards him only to see a soft look gracing his face. "You really like this lass don't you?"

That is what scared him, because he did care about you. He tried to fight it at first; the two of you were never meant to interact after he helped you in your flat. Then the daily morning walks to your work started right after, and he couldn't avoid you after that. “I might.”

"That's a love confession coming from you."

"Maybe it is." He whispers to himself, but based on Johnny's shocked face he probably heard as well.

"Ghost-"

“Target spotted; get ready to move in.” Price's voice comes over the comms interrupting whatever Johnny was going to say.

The topic is immediately dropped after that, and two of them focus on the task once more.

When the plane finally landed back on base Simon made a beeline to his locker to get his phone. Admittedly the talk with Johnny did help him sort out some of his feelings that he had for you. Simon was going to try and get a hard read on you when he goes on leave again; try and see if you were also wanting to take the friendship to the next level.

Turning on his phone he sees that he has a few texts and a voicemail message from you. Reading the text first; there are simple updates about your work and random thoughts you’ve had throughout the day. It was the voicemail that made Simon’s blood go cold.

“Hey Simon,” you sound nervous, that's the first thing he picks up on, “Can you give me a call when you get this. A couple of Russian guys came by today asking about you. I don’t want to worry you, but they were asking a lot of strange questions. Stuff about where you were, and when you would be getting back. It’s probably nothing, but I just felt like I should tell you. I’ll talk to you later…Bye.”

Panic was the only thing going through Simon right now. Quickly checking he sees that the voice message was from a few days ago.

“Fuck!” For all he knew you could be dead right now. He couldn’t go home just to see another person he cared about dead on the floor again.

He calls you; each unanswered ring is just another nail in your coffin.

“Hello.”

Taglist: @nexthyperfix @yourdaydreamerfan @tf141gloryhole @just-pure-trash @definitelynotaclown

@arminarlertssword @openup-yourmind

#simon riley x reader #fem reader #ghost x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #task force 141 #call of duty #female reader #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick

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itstheghostofmypast · 7 months ago

Text

Pollen Love (1/2)

Florist Choi San x (F)Reader

Summary: The world had always been a bit too dull for the florist, a bit too rough for his petal like soft heart, stomping on it whenever anyone would deem fit - but was she any different? If so, why was she out of his reach, why did the world pluck away the flower that was supposed to put his bouquet back together?

Genre: Hurt + Comfort

Warnings: heavy self-criticism, violence, language

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4.3k

Est.Read Time: 25 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @san-network

Banner: @cafekitsune

A/N: A two part treat till I work on my main series.

"Woah there, what happened- did the boss come at ya, at like-" he turned to check the giant clock at the opposite end of the floor, "8 am- you want me to go knock some sense into him?" he asked, pulling out a dozen tissues from the 'free tissue box' and pressing them on her nose, signalling for her to blow, only for her to smack his hand, and point at something.

"What- oh" he stared at the bouqet of blue roses wrapped in a pastel yellow paper, all tied up with a with bow. "Wait- he made a move on you?"

Snatching the tissues she blew in an extremely ungraceful manner before throwing them away, "You idiot, they're your birthday gift, take them away before I die."

His fingers touched the soft petal of a rose, smiling at the sweet gesture before turning around to hug her only to be smacked across the face with a file. Letting out a mixture of a whimper and a growl he stared at her, hand on his now pink cheek, "So many mixed signals."

"I'll kill you, wash your hands! You know im deathly allergic to pollen!" protesting she sat down on her swivel chair, crossing her legs and glaring up at him. "And what mixed signals, you should be thankful I didn't shove them up your a** for not inviting me to your birthday party."

Letting out an exaggerated fake gasp he knelt down infront of her, placing a hand on his heart, "And for that I am truly sorry, my bestfriend since childhood, but please understand how the guys wanted me to go with them to a certain club where I couldn't possibly take you."

"You shouldn't be celebrating your birthday at a strip club anyway, it's extremely unhygienic," she mumbled, glancing at the flowers and then back at him on the floor on his knees, the usual Wooyoung theatrics.

"Yet, so entertaining -"

"You're disgusting."

"But a simple man."

"Get out of my cubicle".

That was three days ago, today was a Thursday, a regular, boring Thursday so did Wooyount expect to find another bouqte in his cubicle, no. Did he find one, yes, this had been going on since Monday and at this point Yunho and a few on the others floor had begun to assume there was something going on between the two. So, like any best friend, he decided to confront her during break.

Turning off the faucet she shook her wet hands over the sink, looking in the mirror to check up on her makeup, her ears picking up the sound of the door opening, "There you are!"

Turning to look at the all too-familiar voice before letting out a shriek and throwing the bar of soap at him, as he ducked skillfully, being all too aware of her habit of throwing things at him.

"THIS IS THE LADIES RESTROOM."

"Well I'm having lady issues," he said before aiming the bouquet of sunflowers at her, only for her to take a step back gasping, "My lady, mind you a horrifying one, has been leaving me these bouquets when I clearly know she doen't love me enough to face death each day." as soon as he was done they heard someone flush and the last stall open, his eyes widening in fear, about to make a run for it but she grabbed his hand, "Oh no, now you face the consequences."

"So, who are you in love with?"

"For f***'s sake." hissing she face palmed, Wooyoung's boistorous laugh echoing across the tiled walls. Before them, Yunho stood infront of the sink, rolling up his sleeves as he begun to wash his hands, turning his head to meet her questionng glare to which he shrugged, "Ladies washrooms are cleaner, men use toilets like pigs and..." moving closer to reach beside her, he pulling out a few tissues, "Ya'll have tissues."

Rolling her eyes at this statement she turned to Wooyoung, motioning for him to move, only for him to move the bouqet closer to her face, watching her nose scruntch as she covered her mouth. Muffling out a whine, "Wooyoung, come on, its nothing, just let it go, I let go the fact that you went to strip club to your birthday and didnt celebrate with me-"

"THAT'S WHAT YOU TOLD HER ?"Yunho, who was now leaning against the counter hollered. That's when she noticed it, the silence, the way Wooyoung was shaking, in...fear. No...this mf wouldn't have...could he?

"Yunho" he hissed, slowly moving back as she stepped closer to him, "You a**hole." is all that escaped him before he made a beeline for the elevator, "I SWEAR I WANTED TO TAKE YOU BUT YOU HAD YOUR PROJECT THE NEXT DAY" he yelled running into the eventor, pressing on the close button before she could jump in. Unfortunately for him, she was able to stick her hand in before the doors closed, automatically opening again.

He backed into the opposite wall, "I c-can explain." holding the bouqet to cover his face until she snatched it and started beating him with it, "YOU PROMISED TO GO WITH ME- f*** I CAN NOT BELIEVE YOU WENT TO THE IMAGINE DRAGONS CONCERT WITHOUT ME!"

"IM- ow- SORRy-STOP"

The elevator stopped at a random floor and dinged, not that the two even pressed a button in this first place, they only stopped when someone cleared their throat. Pausing midscene the two- Wooyoung who was covered in petals and Y/N who was holding the dead beat bouquet, the wrapping paper crumbled to shreds- looked the people standng at the entrance.

"Umm..."

"Everyone, but these two, are normal." Jongho explained and entered the lift, someone next to him nodding and entering. That's when Wooyoung noticed, buff dudes hang out with buff dudes, that and how his bestfriend was twitching, slowly moving behind him, trying to hide, like she was...shy? He hadn't seen her ever flinch around any other man, let alone shy away from one. It was at this point when is gaze moved from her, trailing to catch the face of the man standing next to Jongho, who was offering her a shy smile in return. He was an eight...or at max a nine...or 9.98- point is he wasn't extraordinary, in fact, when did he start working here? Wooyoung always knew everyone, and this strange, tall mountain of a man was not part of the everyone, nonetheless, the creep was disturbing his dear darling demon, which is why he chose to speak up.

"Haven't seen you before?" his words calm but with an edge to them causing Jongho to let out an exagerted sigh and the man to nod at him, an introvert huh, still had the guts to hit on her? Creep and a weirdo.

"He doesn't, I just wanted to show him the gym here." Jongho turned to face the two idiots, the lady who sends him her work in late almost every week and her scoundrel of a friend who makes sure to finish all the morning free muffins before the poor bear can reach the break room.

"I almost couldn't recognise you without the mask?" the stranger spoke in a hushed tone, causing her to dip her head even more, mumbling a, "I didn't think you would."

"You know this creep?" Wooyoung turned to her, before biting his lip when he felt her heel dig into his toe. Pretending she wasnt doing that she bowed in apology, only for him to smile at her, "It's alright, so, this is who you buy flowers for each day?" his voice as soft as the clouds, as smooth as velvet, though unknown to her, those words, the sight of her standing so close to the rude guy, watching them physically engage before the two had entered the lift had set something burning in him, anger? Jealousy?

F*** no, they were not for this moron, but would she tell him the real reason? Of course not, shaking her head, she was about to speak when Jongho cleared his throat, "Anyway, San, let's go ....and you two...stay out of trouble." with that he walked out, her frantic gaze meeting San's calm eyes, with one last dimpled smile he walked out with a "Hope to see you around Miss."

With the doors closing she bit her lip, this is not how she wanted to him to see her, this is not what she wanted him to think- wait, was he going to stop being nice to her? Or would he just treat her like any other customer? Or-

"So, that's him, huh?" his words broke her train of thought, slinging an arm over her shoulders, "That's the guy, you face death for each morning, the guy you are willing to buy for, because he got your itty bitty heart in his palm and he has -until today- not seen you without a mask, not because you're hygienic, no, because you'd literally get an allergic attack and die?"

Sighing in defeat she rested her head on his shoulder, "I'm pathetic, aren't I?" as she let him lead them out to their floor, as fun as this was, they still had half of the day left and he had some investigating to do.

"Nah, not pathetic, just desperate and stupid."

"Thanks, Woo."

"Anytime."

"You gonna do something or just stare at the weights?" Jongho asked as he got off the treadmill, noticing how his friend had been distracted ever since they got off the elevator. To be honest Jongho had brought him here because this was closer to work and San's shop, and since he'd get off work late it was easier for them to continue with their routine at this office gym, rather than the one near their apartment complex.

"Oh- no, sorry." San mumbled, sitting back on the bench, reaching to pick up a dumble, only to freeze at the next choice of words his friend spoke so casually, "Can't believe thats your masked lover."

"She isn't my lover." he hissed cranning his neck around to glare at the man who was now sitting on the bench next to him, chuckling before chugging down a whole bottle of water.

"No" sighing, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "She's got you whipped, but you didn't know she was in a relationship- you're such a romantic Sannie."

"I'll throw this at you. I swear." placing the dumble back down, grumbling he got up, no longer interested in working out anymore, choosing to stretch out the tension in his muscles instead.

"And I'm surprised you never bothered asking for her name."

"Drop it." with that he grabbed his duffle bag , "I'm going to hit the shower."

"Mhmmm...so what was more distracting? Her skirt or the fact that you saw her face for the first time-" Jongho's sentence was cut halfway when a towel was smacked on his face, San's attempt to shut him up before disappearing around the corner to the washrooms.

Today was not a good day. Well, yesterday wasnt one either, well it was till he found out that the lady he had been saving his extra silky ribbons and prettier flowers for was in fact in a relationship, or at least what looked like one. Today, he had gotten up earlier than expected, a minute before his alarm rang, which only added to his anger. Then the water ran out while showering, so he had to stumble out of the tub, eyes closed, trying to keep his eyes safe from the suds of his shampoo, almost tripping off what may have been his own pants. After that fiasco, he had missed the bus, which meant he was late, which meant he wasn't opening his flower shop, his pride and hardwork on time. But was he upset about that or the fact that since he was late, he wouldn't be able to see her today- wait why is he even thinking of her?

In midst of his crisis he missed someone standing in front of him and bumped into them, thanking God for his cat like reflexes as he balanced himself quickly, hands instinctively reaching to grab the hand of the falling individual, pulling them up into his chest.

Her forehead bumped against his chest, his arms secure around her waist, her own palms pressed against his warm chest, the sweater warm and fuzzy under her finger tips.

"S-sorry." peaking up through her lashes, her face flushed at the sight of his curious gaze. "It's alright" smiling down at her, suddenly his day turning a bit brighter, "No mask today ?"

"W-what? Oh, " her fingers instintively reaching to touch her lips, before nodding, "Yeah, I forgot...you're late today." eyes meeting his once more, as he gave her an apologetic smile and nodded. Never had she been able to look at him up close, sure she had seen him work before, thats how she started to develope these feelings. The way he'd be so focused, his sharp gaze to the way the tip of his tongue would peak past his pouty lips, the way his hair would fall over his forehead, caressing his eyebrows-

"I leave for three minutes."

"Oh-"

In an instant the warmth around her was gone, much to her displeasure, he had moved back, hands at his sides, no longer holding her close, much to his own displeasure.

"Morning" Wooyoung cleared his throat, before taking a sip of his coffee, eyes on the man who was staring back at him. To her, it looked like a gentle stare, but Wooyoung could see the swirling emotions behind his dark orbs, the anger, the jealousy- oh he was going to have so much fun with this.

Clearing her throat, she turned to Wooyoung, "What are you doing here?" who smiled at her, one that anyone who didn't know him would feel was the most honest smile one could see, but she knew better. He was up to no good, as he walked up to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling hercloser, "Didn't we see you yesterday?"

San's eyes caught th visible the dicomfort that she displayed for a second, certain gears in his head working quick, fists clenching at his sides- this wasn't his matter, and Jongho had told him to stay away from this stuff or he would kick him out, this was a new start, and he wasn't going to ruin it.

"You did," averting his eyes from her face he eyed Wooyoung, scanning him, he was smaller than him, in stature and build, bet he was quicker than him though- no, he wasn't supposed to be thinking like this anymore.

"San...right?" her words catching him off guard, inhaling sharply he turned back to her with a smile, "Nodding, yes, San, Choi San." Noting how her she was mimicking a smile of her own, eyes swirling with untold stories, ones he'd love to hear, all the time.

"Wooyoung" he brought his hand forward, somewhat coming infront of her, much to San's displeasure, but he shook his hand nontheless, with a fake smile, before catching her eyes again, his fake smiling morphing into his dimpled one.

"Will you be coming in today?" he asked them, "Give me a minute I just have to open up-"

"N-no its okay, we were just passing by!" she cut him off, before looking at how the two idiots were still gripping onto each other's hands. Wooyoung was going to be the death of her.

Turning his head to look at her he nodded in understanding before he felt the idiot squeeze his hand, only sparing him a glance then looking at their clasped hands, an awkward silence settling between the three.

"Umm..."

"Wooyoung."

With a firm nod he let go, smirking at the way the bigger male wiped his palm with his pants, trying to be oh so discreet about it.

"Good grip" was all he said before moving to Y/N, "Let's go, love." walking ahead as she sighed, wanting to smack him so hard right now. Turning to San she bowed politely, "I apologise, he can be a handful sometimes, it was nice seeing you."

She was almost a good foot away before he called out, "WAIT!" causing her to freeze in spot, whipping her head around to stare at him all doe-eyed, his heart hammering against his ribcage, demanding to leave with her, "I didn't catch your name..."

"That's because you never asked me, silly." chuckling at his curiosity veiled with his shy demeanour, "It's Y/N."

With that she was gone, running after the a**hole, according to San, who had noticed how he was making her uncomfortable by the passing minute. A part of him wanted to go and give him a good piece of his mind, but he knew not to, he had promised Jongho he wouldn't get into fights anymore, he wouldn't let the world write his story for him.

"Having fun?" she hissed, entering his cubicle, noting how she was ignored. Her source of anger was glued to his desktop, glasses at the tip of his nose, eyebrows scrunched together in concentration. Eyes skimming each word before him.

"Wooyoung I-"

Words pausing at the rude gesture, a finger pointed in the air as if asking her to shut up for a moment. Huffing, she stood there, leaning against the entrance of his cubicle, arms crossed as she looked around waiting for him to finish with his dramatics for a good twenty minutes.

"Aaaand done." twirling around in his swivel chair he stared at her, manspreading, "Yes, child."

"SIT PROPERLY!"

"YES MA'AM." fixing his posture in an instance he cleared his throat, sitting cross-legged watching her lean against his desk, eyes frantically darting from her face to the screen.

"Let's go, Love?" quirking a brow she asked, "Are you trying to ensure I have no shot with him?"

"Quite the opposite, stupid one, I'm trying to ensure you do."

"You got a shitty way of showing it."

Clicking his tongue he rolled his chair closer to his desk, smacking her knee, then pointing at th screen, "Look."

Rubbing her knee she stood up, turning to look at the screen, "What- oh my god, you're stalking him- Oh he looks cute her" her words rushing out before she could bite her tongue, earning a high pitched laugh from her friend.

"Stop" whining and covering her face with her hands she peeked through her fingers, watching him scroll through the florist's shop's social media account.

This was the most fun Wooyoung had had since highschool, it had been so long since he'd seen his oh so perfect friend a mess, sputtering nonsense. "My point is, he has no personal account, and this one is recent too, its only for the shop and considering he only has male staff- this other dude - man do all buff people have like this secret club-"

"Your point?"

"Yeah sorry, my point is that he has no lady in his life, so you've got a shot."

"And pretending that we are in a relationship is going to work how?"

"He's shy and you're hopeless at this, someone has to tip the scales and be pushed to make the first move- and we all know how your first moves involve stupidity."

"I regret knowing you for so long."

"Ooooh what are we discussing here?"

The two froze at the third, new voice entering the scene, "But, I feel like people who come in late should be more concered about their work, not Sannie's love life."

"Sannie?" the two squeaked but with different tones, with different intentions.

"Yes, Sannie, San, Choi San, man who is not part of your assignments for the week. Neither of yours." he stated as a matter of fact, slowly nudging Wooyoung's chair out of the way as he moved closer to the screen, "New account, huh..." scrolling down at an inhumane speed he hummed, "So, how's his shop?"

"Nice."

"Average."

"Wooyoung, you've never been there." She sighed at his comment, "It's not average, its very nice, its pretty and colourful."

"Wow, bet saying that would get you in his pants, huh?" Wooyoung mocked, rotating in his swivel chair, smirking at the sight of her tainted cheeks- perhaps he did want to show their boss, that he deserved the raise rather than her, or maybe just embarass her because it was fun, or just both.

Luckily for her Yunho had completely ignored that statement, instead turned around to her, "So, you're allergic to pollen and you still go to the shop?"

As embarrassing as it was, it was true, "Yes." mumbling she stared at her shoes, instantly glaring at Wooyoung who had whispered, "Simp".

"Does...he know?" Their boss inquired, before closing the tab and turned to face them completely.

"No! God no, he'd never let me in the shop if he did, I mean he seems like the caring type and-" her words came to a fault at the sight of the two men smirking at each other, cause her to whine and slap Wooyoung's shoulder.

"WHY ME?? HIT HIM TOO!"

"He's our boss."

Huffing she turned to look at Yunho who gave her a gentle smile, "You're right, he is the caring type, but" his lips quirked downwards, something she noticed instantly, "He's not s pet project, so is this a little crush or do you actually like him, which brings me to my next question, how could you like someone without even knowing their name?"

"I..."her words hugged the silence that came after, staring at her shoes then at Wooyoung for some help, but he looked at her with the same look her boss was giving her, she did like him, but she didn't know a lot about him either- well technically a while ago she didn't even know his name. What if this was a meaningless crush? There was no guarantee that he felt the same way either, what if he thought she was some annoying, clingy customer that-

A gentle squeeze of her hand had her look up from the all too interesting floor, only to find Wooyoung standing right before her, giving her a small smile. He raised his hand, watching her flinch but he chuckled, "You're crying silly..." he whispered, the thumb of his free hand stroking her tear stained cheek, watching her let out a shaky sigh.

"I- I wont- I mean I-"

"He didn't mean it like that...he just wants you to be sure of your feelings...I think they were close friends." Smiling at her he made her sit down on his chair, "Don't worry, I get it, I've never seen my demon sent to me straight from hell cry for a guy, so you must really like him, we just gotta figure out a way for you to get to talk to each other without chickening out, yeah?"

She nodded only to look at the person who cleared their throat, Yunho, standing there awkwardly, "I uh...I was only kidding, I didn't doubt your intentions....but damn...who knew I'd see the employee of the month, the holder of Woo's reigns, end up crying all because of Sannie-"

"I hate you." She hissed, grabbing a tissue box and flinging it at him, only for Wooyoung to catch it mid air, "Holder of my reigns?" He turned to Yunho who shrugged, "It's a name that stuck, most of us did think you two were an item" the taller man shrugged before looking at her sitting there in self-doubt, making him feel worse, "I, I think Wooyoung should go on with his jealousy plan, if Sannie didn't have the slightest crush on you, he wouldn't have smiled at you like how Jongho told me he did."

"You spoke to Jongho about this?"

"Yeah, well he did talk about the way San was distracted at the gym thanks to your skirt-"

"Jongho also said get back to work and not waste the first half of the day playing matchmaker."

The three froze at the new tone, slowly turning to find the bear like man standing there with his arms crossed, shaking his head, "I'll count till ten"

"Oh I'll win because I'm already at my desk." Wooyoung smirked earning an eyeroll from Yunho and scoff from her, watching the two walk out as he stared at Jongho who was glaring back at him, "Is she serious about him? He's been through enough as it is, it took us some time to bring him back on track."

"She is. I- its actually the first time I've seen her act this way, the real question is, is your boy fixed enough to treat her right?"

"Guess that's something you'll have to check for yourself....you are her...boyfriend after all, even if a fake one." With that Jongho left the cubicle, leaving Wooyoung alone with his thoughts, on one hand he was debating whether this interference was worth their time, but then again, he was right, he'd never seen her like this, not when he had confessed to her back in highschool and she had politely declined his offer, or when that guy in college asked her put publically- well, technically she had put him back in his place there and then and Wooyoung thanked God that he had the bestfriend privilege back in highschool too because if this is what she'd do to someone who tried to pressurise her due to the public presence even if she did once say this guy was cute- he'd hate to see how she'd deal with someone she disliked.

So, there were two questions that bothered him, was the flowerboy fixed enough to handle her? And did she now possesses the gentleness to handle delicate flowers?

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @marsvillee @spooo00oky @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt

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poetryandfluffycats · 6 months ago

Text

His Girl~

A/N: part of my Nikolai stalker au! might be the last one for awhile since for may ill be on the grind for enstars NSFW month🤍

Pairing: Kidnapper!Nikolai Gogol x fem!reader

Content: Bathing with kidnapper Nikolai...

Warnings: kidnapping, suggestive(?)

Words: 887

Oneshot under cut!

"Dove, how would you like a bath?"

Nikolai leaned over my shoulder, wrapped his arms around my middle and squeezing my belly fat. "Hm, and maybe some new clothes? You must be getting sick of this old number! Aha!"

A bath? I would've loved a bath. It'd been so long since the last time I'd properly bathed, my only way of cleaning myself whilst down here being a dirty rag and a bucket. Even though there was a bathtub in the bathroom of the basement, Nikolai had never let me use it for whatever reason.

The thought of clean water, soap, shampoo, maybe even bubbles? It had me tingling. New clothes too? Clearly something had put Nikolai in a good mood today, which I wasn't going to complain about.

Something about the offer, however, made me shiver. Something about the way he held me, about the way he squeezed me just a bit too tight, told me that he wasn't doing this out of the kindness of his own heart.

"That sounds nice..." I mumbled, turning my head around to face him. There it was, that stare again. Pupils blown out beyond humanness, jagged teeth showing in his wide grin.

Anyone would've called me crazy if I told them, but that was his happy face.

"Wonderful! Yes, let's get you all nice and squeaky clean, hm?"

He intertwined his fingers with mine, a bounce in his step as he dragged me towards the bathroom, which was located in the far corner of the basement. Once inside, he closed and locked the door behind us, patting the counter top and gesturing for me to sit down. I did as he wanted, hopping up onto the counter and swinging my legs back and forth.

The action reminded me of when I was a child, watching my mother do her makeup at the vanity while I begged her to put some on me too. I wondered if she missed me, if anyone did.

"Now, I wasn't sure what type of scent you liked, so I got a whole bunch! I think the lady at the store thought I was crazy, aha!" Nikolai giggled, opening the cabinet beneath me and pulling out bottle after bottle of shower products. "Strawberry, peach, vanilla, cherry, this ones called 'A thousand wishes' how odd...! Oh, bath salts, you need bath salts! Here, I got a few options for those as well"

"Vanilla sounds nice" I smiled softly, pointing at the bottle in question. Nikolai grabbed it and popped open the lid, holding it out for me to smell. "Smells nice too"

"Vanila it is then! I'll fill the tub, and you strip for me, mkay? Don't be embarrassed, I'll behave myself! Scouts honour"

Scouts honour? I couldn't imagine Nikolai as a boyscout, actually, I couldn't imagine the manic as a child at all. I preferred to think of him as some sort of demon that just spawned one day as what he is now. What would a younger Nikolai be like? Probably the kind who went around setting bee hives on fire and stealing from the collection box at church.

"Strip, strip, strip! Don't keep me waiting, dove" Nikolai sang, tilting his head to the side, keeping an eye on me as he fiddled with the faucets of the bath.

"Kolya...?" I hesitated in pulling my nightgown off, the fabric bunching up in my grip.

"Hm?"

"Don't stare, okay?"

"You can count on me, love! But, you can't blame me if I do sneak a few peeks, alright? How am I supposed to bathe my girl without looking at her? Hm?"

My girl.

What an idiot. I wasn't his property, you couldn't own a person, didn't matter how long you kept them trapped in your basement.

Without any further trouble, I untied the bow holding my gown together, letting it slip down my frame and pool at my ankles, leaving me completely exposed and vulnerable at Nikolais mercy. I was quick to cover my chest as I hopped off the counter top, trying to keep just an ounce of my modestly intact.

"What a beautiful body-eck! Stupid Nikolai, stupid! She doesn't want you staring! Stupid, stupid, stupid!" The jester hit himself in the head a few times, muttering a string of different curse words with each smack.

"Ah, ignore me, dove. Go on! Baths nice and warm for you!"

I didn't need to be told twice, mumbling a quick thanks as I slid down into the tub. It felt like bliss, the bubbles popping under my weight and creating a tickling sensation on my skin. The water was hot, but not so hot you felt like you might boil to death. Just right.

I reached for the vanilla scented body scrub that Nikolai had layed out for me, only to have him grab my wrist before I could get a hold of it. "Ah-ah-Ah, allow me" He wagged his finger back and forth, grabbing the scrub himself and scooping a generous amount into his palm.

It felt wrong, his grubby hands on my bare skin. This should have been a luxury for me, something to enjoy, but I couldn't help but feel like a piece of meat on display. Mere prey, a toy to dress up.

And in a way I was.

#bsd x reader #bsd #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere bsd #yandere x reader #yandere #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bsd nikolai #bsd nikolai gogol #bungo stray dogs nikolai #nikolai x reader #yandere nikolai gogol #nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai gogol #bsd gogol #oneshot

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russellsppttemplates · 1 year ago

Text

Papa loves you so much, princess (Mick Schumacher)

Mick and Y/N find out their family is growing

Note: english is not my first language. this is another long piece that I hope you enjoy! I have been talking about this since January, so this is ver long overdue!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions reader's period and pregnancy

Getting up from the bed, you were fortunately quick enough to reach the bathroom in time to pour your guts out on the toilet, leaning on the toilet's side to support your torso. You were already up by the time Mick walked inside the bathroom, his sleepy expression with some traces of concern, "I told you I shouldn't have had that last piece of dessert", you pointed your finger at him through the mirror while you splashed your face, "you kept looking at it like you were a dog that was abandoned on the road, and then when I asked if you wanted my piece, I swear I saw happy tears in your eyes", your husband teased you, rubbing your back in a comforting manner, "do you want me to get you anything?", he asked, "just some cuddles in bed should do the trick", you muttered, allowing him to carry you back to the bed for a few more hours of hopefully uninterrupted sleep.

After leaving work, you stopped by the grocery store since you and Mick had noticed you were running low and running out of a few items at home, "we just had a snack break and the next part of the meeting should be the last one, I'm sorry I'm not helping you", he said over the phone while you browsed the aisles, "it's okay, handsome. You can still help me out here, though. I'm the cleaning section and I already have dish soap and the spray for the wooden cabinets, anything else?", you asked, earning a negative answer from him, "no, that's all I think. Next is the bathroom one, right? We are running low on toilet paper, and I used the last plaster yesterday. You only had one box of tampons in the cabinet so given that you are about to have your period, see if you need more of them", he pointed out, grabbing your attention to the matter. It should have started by now, you checked the date on your watch. And you were never late.

"We also need those tissues you keep on your bedside table, I used some today and I noticed they were the last ones", you could hear the smile on his voice, "alright, bub. I'll see you at home, have a good meeting!", you dialed off, grabbing the things he mentioned before looking at the pharmacy section.

You were never late, so it had to be this, right? Barring any other health situations, all of your symptoms aligned with pregnancy symptoms: you had been nauseous, feeling sick (and maybe it wasn't the stolen dessert's fault), you kept falling asleep whenever you rested on the sofa at home and Corinna had complimented the way one of your summer dresses fitted you, claiming that the neckline looked beautiful on you. And you and Mick had been trying, not with a whole calendar but rather just not using protection and seeing where it led you, and maybe this was it. Grabbing two boxes for the sake of it, you put them in your shopping trolley before heading to the till to pay for everything so you could go home.

When Mick got home, dinner was already on the table while you also fed Angie her own dinner, his kiss on your forehead coming with an apology for having arrived just in time for it, "no need to apologise, myself and miss Angie kept ourselves busy", you petted her soft fur before heading to wash your hands, joining Mick at the table and enjoying the meal.

"Does it taste okay to you?", you asked Mick, the taste of the broccoli seemingly off to you, "yes, tastes like this dish always tastes. It's very good, why do you ask?", he questioned, "I don't know, tastes funny to me", you mumbled, using your fork and knife to push the green vegetable to the edge of your plate, "maybe you got a bad one", he noted. That was another symptom, you thought, remembering when one of your friends couldn't eat her favourite meal while she was pregnant because she claimed it tasted different.

"Actually, I've been having a few symptoms, and they are all compatible with-", you were interrupted by your husband, "pregnancy", he smiled, seeing your brushed and stunned face, "I've noticed them too. You haven't told me you are craving your usual sweets when you're on your period, your boobs look even more amazing but the moment I so much as graze my finger in the skin you hiss because of the pain, you're not one to take naps during the day but the moment your head hits the pillow you're out like a light, and it's not common for you to have a bad stomach", he reasoned, making you blush even harder, "Why didn't you say something though?", you asked softly.

Mick shrugged his shoulders, "I just didn't want to burden you, or maybe I was keeping my hopes up and I didn't want to ruin yours, or point out something about your body like that, I'd never want to do so in a way that could be harmful", he answered apologetically, making your get up and go sit on his lap, "you could've said something, I wouldn't be offended, I think anyway, apparently pregnant women get mood swings so I can't speak for sure", you shrugged your shoulders, "truth is, I got some pregnancy tests at the store today because I also thought the same thing, but I wanted to do them with you", you looked at him, "but I don't know how to deal with this hope, like, I could just have some bug, but it is also true that everything checks out...", you fiddled and played with his fingers, "we take it step by step, if you'd like", your husband began softly, "and if you're not pregnant, we can keep trying", he explained, grabbing your hand once you nodded, heading to the bathroom so you could do the tests.

The plastic sticks were on the counter, Angie lying on the bathroom floor while Mick sat on the edge of the tub wirh you on his lap, "just a little bit more, liebling", he kissed the side of your head, "I'm sorry", you whispered, gaining his questioning look, "if I'm not pregnant, I got both of our hopes up for nothing", you explained, feeling his fingers lift your chin up to look into his eyes, "no need to apoligise, liebling. We just keep trying, it's not like we mind trying", he winked, looking at his watch to see the time was up, "I'm ready when you are", he said soflty.

You got up, picking up the sticks and seeing that both of them had the same information, "it won't be trying for a baby, but I've heard that sex while you're pregnant is a whole another level of sensations", you smiled at Mick, showing him the positive results.

"We're having a baby?", Mick mumbled, still not sure if he had grasped what you said in the right way, "we are, baby Schumacher is going to be here in nine months", you cried out, smiling as Mick cuddled you, his arms circling your before spinning you, "Angie! You're going to be a big sister!", Mick said once he put you down.

"I remember reading about these old wives' that help you guess the gender of the baby, and your grandmother did some on me for both of you and they turned out pretty accurate, I think", Corinna said as she sat in the outdoor sofa in front of you.

Since Gina was visiting, you and Mick decided to invite her and Corinna to spend the day together, Angie sitting next to her auntie while you sat next to Mick, "Oh, that would be fun!", Gina said as she straightened her back, picking up her phone so she could look them up on the Internet while Corinna started with the ones she knew, "they say that if you have a pointed belly towards the front, it means you're having a boy, and if you have a rounder bump and wider hips, it means it's a baby girl", she said, seeing Mick quickly ask for you consent before he helped you stand as he lifted your t-shirt, "what do we think? Pointy or not so much?", you did a turn around yourself, "I think it's rounder", Mick said earning a nod from his mother, "me too", Gina said, "but I've always had wider and rounder hips", you tried to reason as Gina wrote girl and a stick next to it to help count.

"The next one was that sweet cravings were sign of a baby girl, and salty cravings were sign of a baby boy", and Mick wiped the smug smile off his face, "I've been eating a lot of savoury stuff", you nudged your husband while his sister wrote down the tie.

Gina opened the lunar calendar on her phone while the four of you looked at all the details they asked for, "it's a girl according to this one!", Mick yelled way too close to your ear, "another point for babygirl then", you said, cuddling back to his side and giggling at everyone's exciting.

You saw and tested a couple more and, without realising it, you tried the last one without noticing it was the last, only for it to make another tie between babyboy and babygirl, "so that's it?", Mick said, not expecting it to turn out like this, "you just have to wait and see, you know, like all the people do because you can know for sure on the ultrasound", Gina teased him.

Once you got to the OB/GYN, Mick offered to go get you checked in at the desk while you went to find a comfortable chair to sit in while you waited, "final bet: are they a baby boy or a baby girl?", Mick said once he sat down with you, his hand holding yours to calm down your nervous thoughts. The ultrasounds always made you nervous, always wondering if everything was alright and as it should be, so having Mick there to support you and distract you was appreciated, "I think they're a baby boy, and he looks like his papa", you cradled his cheek on your palm, "I think they're a baby girl, and she has your kindness and empathy. It's just my gut feeling", he smiled, kissing the top of your head while he moved your conjointed hands to rest on your bump, feeling the baby kick, "not my chubby cheeks?", you playfully gasped, "what can I say? I think the Schumacher genes are much too strong", he teased you, looking up to the door when your name was called.

Entering the room and greeting your doctor, she asked you a couple of questions before asking you to lay on the little bed, the gel cold on your bump as she moved the wand around, "okay, everything looks good, strong heartbeat for little one and mother as well", she smiled, "I can see it. Do you still want to know?", she asked one last time, earning a nod from both you and Mick, "you're going to have a baby girl, congratulations!", she announced.

Your hand squeezed Mick's, feeling him press a kiss to the top of your head as you both looked at your baby on the screen, "we're having a little girl? Liebling, it's a little girl", he said, his eyes tearing up as he kept looking at the screen. Despite having feelings and guesses about it, neither of you didn't have any preference, feeling happy just with the idea that you were carrying a combination of you and Mick, but you couldn't help but get all goddy as you imagined Mick with a little daughter, knowing she would have him wrapped around her finger from the moment she was born. Even thinking now, she has him wrapped around her finger since you both found out you were pregnant.

"She looks good, there isn't anything that looks concerning. The measurements are all within the norm, everything looks good. Congratulations, mama and papa!", she smiled, "do you want copies to take home?".

While she went to get the slightly exaggerated number of copies of baby Schumacher (Mick wanted everyone that was important in his life to have one), your husband helped you clean the skin on your bump, "are you happy?", you looked at him, not seeing any signs of uneasiness but feeling his a little bit tense, "I am, liebling", he said, "but she's going to be here soon, you know? Little one is growing so fast, I can't believe we're past the half way point", he admitted, "I just don't want to disappoint any of you", he gulped, making you craddle his face with your hands, "My love, I know you and believe me, if how everything has gone until now is any indicator, we are going to have princess treatment", you smiled softly on an attempt to calm him, "thank you for sharing this with me, though. You can always share your worries with me, Mick", you finished, kissing his lips passionately, "I love you, liebling", he kissed you back, "and you little one, papa loves you so much, princess".

#mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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kookssin · 2 years ago

Text

[1:58am] | park jimin

PLAY I WANNA BE YOURS BY THE ARCTIC MONKEYS

genre: established! relationship, fluff, smut, soft sex, love, affection, bathtub sex, physical touch, feels

wordcount: 2.1k

✩ !!note: requests for drabbles are open!!✩

it was late at night, 1:58am to be exact. you were laying in jimins bed, watching him as he sat on his desk, working on correcting an essay. he had told you an hour ago he would be done soon and join you in bed, but he was still working and refused to stop working. you were slowly growin impatient since you wanted to spend time with him.

you sighed and rolled off the bed, tiptoeing over to his desk where you pulled on the sleeve of his hoodie. "jimiiiin" you whined, making him hum in response, not looking up from what he was writing "it's been an hour, for how long do you want to continue working on that damn essays? you can just finish it tomorrow"

"an hour? oh shit" he widened his eyes as he looked at the clock on his phone "just a little bit longer baby, you can sleep if you want" he looked up at you, caressing the small of your back as you pouted. "i won't go to to sleep without you, plus i'm not tired yet" "okay, then just wait a little longer alright?" you huffed out, turning around and stomping back to bed. out of the corner of your eye you saw him look at you but turned around as soon as you were on his bed.

you laid on your back and looked at the ceiling, thinking about how you would get him to spend time with you. after a few minutes of thinking, you grinned to yourself, knowing how you would get jimin to spend time with you. you got up from the bed once again, but instead of walking to him, you took off your clothes, only leaving your white lacy undewear on, his favourite.

"babe, what are you doing" he murmured, looking at your figure with hooded eyes as he must've heard you taking off your clothes since he was turned around now. "i'll go and take a warm bath" you innocently smiled at him before walking across his room to the door that led you into his master bathroom, which you were glad at the moment he didn't share with one of the others.

you turned on warm water to fill the big bathtub, smiling to yourself as you lit the scented vanilla candles around the tub. you added some soap to create bubbles before you turned off the lights, the moonlight shining brightly into the big window next to the bathtub, a starry night.

you smiled as you heard jimin entering the bathroom, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pressed a tender kiss on your neck "you know this is my favourite one" he breathed against you neck, playing with the waistband of your panties, you nodded and bit your lip, holding back a smile "let's turn on some music, hm?" you nodded and let him go over to music box where he connected his phone. you grinned brightly as you heard the bass of the first song filling the bathroom. do i wanna know.

jimin knowingly smirked at you, placing his phone on the counter before he walked back to you, taking off his shirt in the meantime. the tub was still filling up with water as he wrapped his arms around your waist once again, facing you with a soft smile.

"i'm sorry that i took so long with work" he spoke softly, in loosing your bra and taking it off of you. "it's okay" you smiled at him, now you were the one playing with the waistband of his pants. he giggled at that, cupping your face and pulling you into a gentle kiss. you melted into his body, your hands wrapping around his wrists, down his forearm "let's get into the water" he mumbled against your lips, both of you quickly taking off your remaining clothes before you both went into the tub, turning off the water as you both let yourselves relax.

"come here" jimin made grabby hands in your direction, making you smile as you sat on his lap, chest to chest as his arms wrapped around your waist. you wrapped your arms around his neck, biting back a grin as you felt his half hard dick on the inside of your thigh. "what?" he smirked, pressing you harder down agaisnt his dick as he bit his lip. you giggled, falling against his chest as it vibrated under you. "cute" he mumbled, pecking your head before he tilted your chin upwards, connecting your lips into a passionate kiss.

you softly moaned into his mouth as he started massaging your breasts, your hips automatically grinding down on him "mhm, good girl" he spoke against your lip, gripping your waist a little harder, fully hard under you now as your wet slick folds rubbed up and down on him.

"ahh- jimin" you whimpered out, eyes shut as his length perfectly stimulated your clit. "what is it, angel?" he smirked, nipping at your jaw as your head was tilted back "are you gonna cum from just humping me?" he teased, giving your waist a firm squeeze as you nodded, whimpering out"please"

"go on then, cum for me when you're ready baby" he continued kissing your neck, he himself groaning as you moved up and down on him, precum leaking onto his tummy in the process, the water around you making some noises as it hit the walls. "i'm gonna cum" you whined, gripping his shoulders tightly as you moaned out his name, praised leaving his mouth as he held you in his arms, helping you riding out your high as your movements faltered a little.

"such a good girl" he murmured, kissing your lips passionately as you slowly came down from your high. your tongues were messily dancing with each other, the sound of no. 1 part anthem playing in the background. "wanna ride you minie" you breathed against his lips, earning a groan from him as you felt him twitch for a second. "you want to ride me?" he smirked, pulling away from the kiss to look you in the eyes with a cocky look on his face "then do it"

you bit your lip at that, lifting your self up a bit to wrap your fingers around his dick to align it with your entrance, earning a soft moan from him as you pumped his shaft a bit before sinking down on him. "mhmm" he hummed, letting his head fall back against the edge of the tub, eyes closed as you slowly let yourself down on him completely, a whimper escaping your mouth "you feel so good" he praised "keep going angel" his hands comfortingly caressing your sides and back up and down as you adjusted to his size.

after a few moments you were relaxed enough to move; your hands placed against his chest as you slowly began moving up and down on him "mhm~ just like that" he groaned as you rolled your hips against his, a loud moan escaping your mouth as his tip brushed your gspot. you started bouncing again, his dick finding your gspot everytime that you couldn't help but fall onto his chest, continuing your movements as good as you could as he chuckled breathlessly, easily helping you move up and down with his hands on your butt "feels good, doesn't it?" he firmly squeezed your butt, wanting you to answer as you only nodded your head in response, your fingers crawling into his skin as you heavily breathed "feels so g-good" you mumbled out, hoping it was enough for him and it was.

you walls clenched around him as you were nearing your second orgasm, he himself groaning deeply as he was close too. you went slack in his arms as he lifted your butt up and started pounding into you repeatedly, hitting the spongy spot inside you perfectly. "are you gonna cum for me again baby? hm?" he breathed right into your ear, the bathroom filled with the sounds of wet skin slapping, both your moans and the am album playing in the back ground "yes!" you moaned out, clenching around him tightly as you came undone "there you go" he groaned, spilling his cum right into you as he came seconds after you "thaaaats it"

you trembled in his arms from over stimulation as he came deep inside you, both of you moaning loudly.

"you feel incredible" he heavily breathed into your ear, holding you tightly onto him as you gasped for air, slowly but surely coming down from your high "my good little girl"

both of you stilled, heavily breathing as each of you calmed down. you were still laying on his chest when he made the move to pull out of you, but you stopped him before he could do that "stay in me" you mumbled, earning a soft and tried smile from him as he nodded "you did so good baby" he praised, kissing your forehead.

you looked out of the window, staring into the night sky and admiring the stars as you felt his steady heart beat under you, his hands caressing up and down your back as you softly played with his locks, each other's touch relaxing both of you.

you smiled and closed your eyes as you heard the next and last song on the album playing.

i wanna be yours.

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner

Breathing in your dust

I wanna be your Ford Cortina

I will never rust

If you like your coffee hot

Let me be your coffee pot

You call the shots, babe

I just wanna be yours

I wanna be your setting lotion

Hold your hair in deep devotion (I'll be)

At least as deep as the Pacific Ocean

Now I wanna be yours

Secrets I have held in my heart

Are harder to hide than I thought

Maybe I just wanna be yours

I wanna be yours

you turned your head to him as the melody came to an end, finding him already looking down at you with a gentle smile, his eyes shining in the moonlight. it felt magical as everything else was compelty quite, feeling as if just you and him were in the world. you were sure your heart was running a mile as he brought his hand up to tuck your probably completely messy hair behind your ear, his palm sliding down to caress your cheek.

"i love you jimin" you sincerely spoke, voice not louder than a whisper as you stared into his eyes, a smile of love and adoration on your face. "i love you" he whispered back, eyes shining with the same amount of love and adoration as yours.

you smiled even wider after that, leaning in for a chasteful kiss, putting all your love into it. both of you pulled away to look into each other eyes again, giggling as neither of you wanted to look away.

"we should head to bed" jimin softly spoke, caressing your head as you see already half asleep on his chest. "hm? o-oh yeah" you mumbled, sitting up to carefully let him slip out of you, some more of his cum dripping into the already dirty water in the process. he helped you clean yourself real quick and cleaned himself too before getting out of the tub and lifting you out of it too.

it was a comfortable silence as he opened the door to his room to let some light shine in, both of you wrapped in fluffy towels as he let the water out of the tub and you blew out the candles.

after both of you had put on some clothes, you were cuddled up against each other in his bed, the clock on. his nightstand showing 3:47 am.

"good night baby" he whispered, kissing your forehead as you were already drifting into a deep and calm sleep in his hands, happy

✩!!as already mentioned in the top, feel free to leave requests for drabbles in my inbox!!✩

©kookssin 2023

#bts ff #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts jimin #bts fic #bts series #bts scenarios #bts au fic #bts fluff #bts angst #jimin smut #jimin aesthetic #jimin x you #jimin x oc #jimin x reader #park jimin imagine #bts imagines #jimin imagine

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the-californicationist · 9 months ago

Note

Hello hello! I got super happy once i saw your requests open again <3 i love your writing and i would love to see Price and a reader who is too recluse and uptight, cold and distanced. He somehow noticed she likes him and stuff and it turns into what you write best, something hot and more. Basically Price shaking some sense into her, breaking her down? I don’t know if this is too much detail and I don’t know if it gives any ideas. Feel free to ignore. Love you, have a best day 🧡

Thanks so much for the ask! This is really unique, and I like the concept. I'll do my best! <3 <3

TW: female reader, afab, cunnilingus

Price scanned the meeting room as his teams filed in. The 141's operations had grown, now that Shepherd was out of the way, and new recruits with a lot of promise had come in to aid in the operations. Gaz, Ghost, and Soap sat up front, reports prepped and ready to be handed out, the logistics team sat around Alex and Farah, and sometimes, when she wasn't out doing the dirty work, Laswell would hang around the back corner, arms crossed, watching the meeting unfold. But, he was waiting for you.

You were the newest addition. Your specialty with data analysis and reporting had meant a stream of fresh, sparkling intel that was immediately actionable and nearly allowed him to predict the enemy's movements. You were a magician, and you never talked over anyone's head. Very professional, but kind. Beautiful, even though you were not a fresh-faced youth.

You also had a body that would not let him rest. He'd taken more cold showers in the past two weeks than he ever took as a teenager, and his cock was in his hand, hard and drooling, hungry to bury itself between your thick thighs.

He tried not to stare, really, he did. But, you would wear those cargo pants, belted to your waist, and he could see where your generous ass stretched the tight canvas. The way your hips swayed when you walked across the base with your data-tablet made him want to fight someone for you, even though, as far as he could tell, there was no competition in sight.

That was part of the problem. You kept everyone at arm's reach. Well, that was about to change.

Price started the meeting and tried not to keep glancing back to you in your seat. You were listening diligently, doing your job, and he felt downright lecherous at what he was about to do...

"...and so we'll be pairing off for a full facility inventory."

Groans resonated throughout the team. Complaints flooded in.

"Check the board for your partner and meet in Hanger 3. We'll start in the back storage."

"Back storage! Cap'n, unless you're lookin' for flip phones and manuals from 2007, there's nothin' we need in there," Soap protested.

"Well, Sergeant," Price grinned, "We're about to find out. Spring cleaning!"

He felt someone's presence behind him, and when he turned, he was delighted to find you there, shifting from foot to foot, waiting to be heard.

"Yes, Corporal? Do you need something? Going to whinge about the inventory as well?" He joked with you.

"N-no. No, sir. I just... I checked the board, and you are my partner, sir."

Your eyes were wide and bright. You were staring up at him and clutching that data-tablet to your chest like a shield.

He threw an arm around your shoulder and walked with you side-by-side,

"I'm just pullin' your leg, Corporal. Let's get to it."

As you worked together, the ever-observant John Price noticed a few things. First, you would stare at him when you thought he wasn't looking. Second, you would move to the opposite side of the room to work if he decided to relocate. And third, you had a bad habit of chewing on your bottom lip when you got nervous.

"You'd be no good at poker, Corporal," he commented, stacking a set of boxes near you.

"What, sir?" You looked up at him, biting that poor, innocent lip again.

"That bottom lip gives you away," you fixed it as soon as he said it, but he forced you to sit with him and asked you, "Hey, what's going on? You're doing a great job here, but I can't help but feel like you're not keen on being a part of this team."

You shook your head, sighing,

"No, sir. It's not that. I love this team... I just..."

"Just what, Corporal? We're not leaving this storage crate until you tell me. You have a crush on one of my soldiers, or what?"

Fear, now. He could see it all over your face. He reached out tentatively and put a hand on your knee,

"Hey," he dropped his voice to a dark whisper, "It's alright. I won't tell anyone."

Your voice was so small when you answered him, but gods you were brave for answering him,

"Sir... it's you who I shouldn't tell."

Price's breath caught in his chest. All this nervous energy, all this seriousness... for him? You were nervous to be around him?

"Corporal..." He was stunned.

You stood up, quick as a flash,

"I'm sorry, sir. Please forget I said anything."

You were backing away towards the door, looking like you were ready to bolt, but he reached out and grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

"Me?" He stood above you, his body looming, covering you in the small storage room. It felt like it was getting smaller by the second.

You swallowed, nodding,

"Yes, sir..."

Price reached behind you and popped the metal lock into place, sealing you in,

"Mmm... Corporal, if you only knew how long I've been prayin' you'd say that to me."

"Wh-what? Really? Captain, I didn't --"

He put his thumb on your chin, pulling the skin so that your bottom lip would be freed from your teeth, and he bent to suck it into his mouth. He wasn't kissing you so much as he was working your full, lower lip, slowly and gently, taking it between his own lips and tongue, making you catch your breath.

"In here... I'm not your captain," he smiled, kissing you fully now, "And when I'm not your captain... you give the orders. We can stop, if you want to stop."

He let the news register, showing you how true it was, backing away a bit, giving you room to say no. Price watched your face as the information sank in. It was understood, analyzed, and filed appropriately in that beautiful brain of yours, and then, the results.

You set your tablet down on the boxes and took off your shirt. He still hadn't touched you, happy to let you drive. You pulled his face to yours, placing your hands on his furry cheeks, petting his hair and knocking off his hat until it hung around his neck on its string, almost letting him kiss you, but just before he could, you whispered into his open, gaping mouth,

"I don't wanna stop."

He kissed you, then. So softly it was almost chaste. He matched your energy. If you explored him with your tongue, he explored you just as far. If you spent time kissing his jaw and neck, so did he. After a few minutes of such restrained torture, though, he was breathing heavy, and his body was begging for more.

His hands rubbed across the tight muscles of your neck and down your arms before finally discovering your heavy breasts. He let them fill his warm palms, plucking softly at your nipples and making them harden beneath his fingers.

Price spoke to you as he kissed you, as he fondled you into pliant submission,

"Do you wanna stop, love?"

You shook your head, whispering back,

"I don't want to stop..."

He bent himself like the bough of a great tree, leaning to suck your sensitive nipple into his mouth. Price warmed it with his tongue, and put it between his teeth just enough to make you writhe. Then, he slid a huge hand between your legs and felt the heat you were hiding from him there. He sighed raggedly when he found it, like he had just dropped the weight of the world from his arms.

John pressed the canvas of your pants up into the spot where your folds would part, rubbing the seam against your center, making it shove your clit back and forth along its line, making it swell and tingle. You writhed beneath his teasing, moaning from it.

"Mmm. Do'ya wanna stop, love?"

"No, fuck, no. Don't stop."

He forced open your buckle with a swift pull, snapping the metal tines and popping open your button fly. Tucking his fist into the elastic of your panties, his fingers found their soft, wet prize.

The captain sighed again, that same ragged relief, and just before he opened his mouth to speak to you again, you clasped your hand over it furiously, and warned him,

"Don't you dare fucking stop."

He chuckled, but he said nothing as he sank to his knees, looping one of your legs over his shoulder as he began to eat from your body, hungry and thirsty and needy and ready to be full of you, smearing you all over his beard, smiling all the time.

If you liked this story, please consider buying a coffee for your favorite feral cat <3 Comments, reblogs, and kudos are also appreciated!

AO3 Link

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thatgingerswritings · 1 year ago

Text

Care for me

Newt X Reader

→ He/him pronouns

→ Movie based

Synopsis: reader is a medjack and Newt comes regularly in the hut for one reason or another. Reader is oblivious and Minho tries to open his eyes.

Warnings: blood, alcohol

A/N: english is not my first language, I may not know the whole gladers' slang, please let me know if I made any mistake

Most of the gladers were grouped around the box, and your friend Clint was urging you to join them. "Come on Y/n! Or the box will arrive before us!" You rolled your eyes, "I know, I'm coming." You finished cleaning up the blood (or at least what was possible to clean) of the last injured you had to take care of, and joined the other medjack outside the hut. Jeff was already waiting for you both, his hands in his pockets, talking with Newt.

"We were waiting for you!" your fellow medjack said. "What took you so long?" Newt asked. "You should try cleaning blood with only water and soap," you answered, "why aren't you already at the box?" The two medjacks were already distancing you, they seemed pretty excited for the box. You needed new medical supplies, you wished that the people sending the box would give you an actual doctor one day, but you knew it wasn't gonna happen. "No reason," he said, "the alarm didn't ring yet, they're all a bit early." You chuckle, "who can blame them? It's not like we get much entertainment here." You and Newt laugh lightly and immediately stop when the alarm rings. It feels like it's wrecking your ears, but you're kind of used to it by now. The gears on the side of the box start and their metallic sounds almost cover the alarm until it goes off. When the box finally opens, you jump in to go and check the greenie. Gally follows to start conveying the supplies sent in the box to the Glade.

The new boy was curled up against a few boxes that formed a corner, all shaky and visibly younger than every other glader. "Hey greenie, I'm Y/n. I'll check if you're injured, just in case. Does it hurt anywhere?" The boy looks up to you, and you notice that he's crying, but he shakes his head. You help him getting on his feet and still check for any possible injuries. "Looks like you're not hurt anywhere," you said, smiling to the boy, "do you remember your name? Or how old you are?" He shakes his head again. "N-No..." You can tell he is trying not to cry even if tears are still running down his cheeks. "C'mon lil' guy, let's get you up there," you said.

The greenie was still crying after a few hours. You could only understand, but even you had to admit that you were getting tired of hearing his sobs in the distance. You never really understood why all the greenies were thrown in jail as soon as they got out of the box, but you weren't the chief and couldn't say anything. It was Alby's job. You sighed. "Is something wrong?" a familiar voice asked from behind.

You jumped slightly and faced Newt. "No, but if you're here I guess I can return the question." The blonde chuckled and looked down on his hand. "Yeah, I uh, I accidentally cut my finger. It didn't fell off, but it's still bleeding." You walk towards him and takes his hand in yours, taking off the cloth that was preventing the wound to bleed out. "Oh, well, it's not that bad but you still need some care," you put the cloth back in place and gestured towards a bench in the room, "sit down." Newt obeyed and you opened the box you received, taking a bottle of alcohol and a clean cloth. You sat in front of your friend and uncovered his wound, putting the bloody cloth away.

His wound wasn't that deep and there was no ripped skin, the cut was oddly clean. A machete hit would cause much more damage, but it was more serious than a scratch. "How did it happen?" you ask while pouring some alcohol on the cloth. "Uh, dumb mistake, I held my machete the wrong way." You put the cloth on his wound and he immediately sucks air between his teeth. That doesn't sound like something Newt would do, and you can't help but thinking he's lying. However, you just continue to clean his wound and don't say anything. He's been visiting the medjack's hut a lot these past few months, for all kind of reasons: small injuries, questions (dumb ones most of the time), just to talk when he had nothing to do, sometimes he even hid from Alby for some reason. Maybe he was getting sick of Newt getting hurt a lot and wanted to lecture him, which was why the blonde was hiding.

"You should be more careful," you said with a little smile as you finished tying a bandage around his finger. "Y-Yeah, I will." You look at him raising an eyebrow. It wasn't the first time you told him to be careful and he promised every time, you weren't a fool and at this point you were starting to think ha was doing it purpose. But that was weird, why would he get hurt on purpose? "And done," you said, "all clean." "Thanks," Newt said, and you looked inti each other's eyes before he got up and walked to the exit, "I'll see you at the bonfire." "Yeah." You smile at each other and he exited the hut, greeting Minho when he got out. You joined the runner outside and you noticed that the greenie had stopped crying, or at least you couldn't hear him anymore.

"You do realise he's not dumb enough to get hurt like that, right?" Minho said, standing beside the hut's door. "I know," you said, your arms crossed on your chest, "he's acting weird." Minho stopped beside you and began stretching. "I don't think it's weird," he said and you turned your head, "I think he's doing it on purpose." You frowned. "Why would he get hurt on purpose? That's messed up." Minho stopped stretching and placed his hands on his harness. "Messed up? Nah, I wouldn't say that. But that's dumb for sure." You stayed silent, watching Newt guiding the greenie around the Glade with no expression on your face. "You really don't know why he does that?" You turn to Minho who looks at you with raised eyebrows. "No..?" you say, "but if you know, please tell me." He rolled his eyes and walked away with a sigh. "Minho! I'm not kidding! Tell me!" But he ignored you and continued to walk. You were about to go after him but you heard someone yelling 'medjack' and you had to go do your job.

꧁꧂

"So, are you decided to tell me?" you said, sitting down beside Minho. It was almost night and the bonfire was about to start, everyone was gathering in the center of the Glade. The keeper had to think a few seconds to know what you were talking about. "No, ask him yourself," he answers with a smirk. "But I have no proof that he's hurting himself on purpose!" The keeper looked at you, almost shocked. "Yes you do! He's not a shuckin' idiot!" he said, whispering loudly to yell at you but in a way no one could hear, "holding his machete upside down? Really?" You sighed, "just tell me then!" Minho grunted and massaged his temples.

"How can you be so oblivious Y/n? Just think! Why would he find any dumb excuse to go to the medjack's hut?" He looked at your dumbfounded expression for a moment, "I bet you didn't realise you're the only one taking care of him when he gets hurt." You slowly shook your head, "it's because... I'm his best friend, right?" The runner let out a loud exasperated sigh, "okay, you're kidding me, right?" You blinked. The possibility that your crush on Newt being reciprocal never occurred to you, mainly because there was not really any time for romance in the Glade, especially for the second in command. "I'm just saying," Minho continued, "you should just ask him yourself. I'm not some kind of cupid."

"Where is he?" you asked, getting up. You were determined to find him and had built some courage inside you, though you didn't know where it cale from. Minho shrugged, and you decided to look for Newt by yourself. You walked around the bonfire, asking a few gladers if they saw him, but he was nowhere to be found. But at least you were able to talk to the greenie, who was named Chuck. He remembered his name after some hours, which was pretty quick compared to most gladers. Night had fallen by now, and you still haven't found Newt, but since the bonfire would start at any moment now you thought you would see him in a few minutes. You took a glass of the drink concocted by Gally and took a sip, talking with a few gladers and waiting for the fire to be lit up, still asking if anyone had seen the second in command.

You were sitting alone, a bit far from the bonfire and your mind a bit foggy from the alcohol. "I heard you were looking for me earlier?" You turned your head so fast you could have sworn your neck cracked a bit. "Oh hey, yeah I... I was, indeed." Newt sat beside you in the grass. "So... Why?" Suddenly, having him beside you like that made all the courage you had built up vanish. "Uh, h-how's your finger?" The blonde looked down at his bandage, "good, good, it's... healing," he took a sip of his drink, avoiding your gaze. You frowned, taking a sip too and looking around. You saw Minho in the distance who was giving you insistent looks and pointing Newt. "Hum... I was wondering..." you began as you slowly turned your head to the boy, directly meeting his eyes, "how did you cut your finger, really?" The blonde looked away and took another sip of his drink, "I told you, I held my knife upside down." You raised an eyebrow, "oh really? You told me it was your machete earlier."

Newt stayed silent. "I'm just worried Newt, y-you seem to injure yourself a lot, and... I mean, for example, the cut on your finger is too clean, it doesn't look like an accident..." you weren't sure of where you were going with this, it seemed weird and you kind of hoped he would think the alcohol made you talk nonsense. But how could you ask something like that, like Minho said you should. "Are you okay...?" You finally asked. Newt finished his glass in one time before talking. "I'm okay, I just... I wanted to see you more often, and uh... I've just been less careful, these really were just accidents but I thought that I couldn't just take your time for no reason, you're a medjack. So I don't mind getting hurt. Besides..." You raised your eyebrows at him. Minho was wrong, he wasn't hurting himself on purpose, which was a big relief. And he just admitted that he wanted to see you more often. Newt cleared his throat. "Besides," he continued, "I... I like it when you take care of me..."

You were thankful that it was night and the fire wasn't bright enough to show your pink cheeks. "I know it's- Uh, dumb to do that but... I didn't know what else to do, I mean..." he paused to sigh, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry." He looked at you and you could feel your face heating up more and more. "Why did you want to s-see me more often?" Newt chuckled, "heh, I thought you would have understood." You shook your head, "I-I don't want to jump into conclusions..."

"I like you, Y/n. I like you a lot," he said, giggling nervously. You grinned sheepishly and started playing with your glass in your hands, "I like you too, Newt," you said softly, hesitantly looking at him. A wide smile appeared on his face and you moved closer to him. Your shoulder against his, you looked at each others with little smiles. "Can I kiss you?" He asked, his gaze going from your eyes to your lips repeatedly. You nodded and he approached you slowly, tilting his head to the side. His soft lips finally kissed yours, and it felt like it lit up a fire inside you. You kissed him back, your hand grabbing his sleeve and his hand on the back of your neck. When he pulled away, you felt the urge to kiss him again fiercely, but you held it back. You abandon his sleeve to put your hand on his, and smiled at him again. "But seriously, be more careful at your job, I hate seeing you hurt," you say. "Okay, I promise," he answers, "but you'll still take care of me, right..?" You giggle, "of course I will."

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 3 days ago

Text

First Of Many

Bud Cooper x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 30: Cunnilingus

Summary: Bud forgot a file at work, you take a trip to bring it to him.

A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry). This is so badly not beta read, I cannot stress. I am cutting this one so fine timewise.

Warnings: reader works with Bud, kissing, oral, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1713

You race down the pavement, rain soaking into your skin. You’re practically a drowned rat at this point, sodden and cold.

You have the case file wrapped tightly to your chest, under your coat and thankfully in a metal carry case - safe from the rain.

Bud had forgotten it when he’d left, you knew he’d need it for Monday morning and probably wouldn’t even notice he hadn’t picked it up over the weekend. Not that the offices would be open even if he did.

So, with your boss’s permission, you’d looked up Bud’s home address and made your way. It hadn’t been raining when you got on the bus, but when you got off the storm clouds had been looming.

Finally, you reach his house. His car is parked in the drive, which is a small mercy. At least you know he’s in.

You duck under the shelter of his porch and ring the bell.

He's surprised when he opens the door to you, but he smiles. And it's utterly disarming.

“Hi, erm, I, so, you left…” All the practised sentences you'd gone over in your mind on the way here fall out of your head the instant you need them. “Here.” You hold out the metal case file and quickly realise he has no idea what's inside. “I…”

“Come in, come in, my god, you're soaked.” He ushers you inside, giving you a sympathetic look.

“I don't want to be any trouble-”

“No trouble at all.” He closes the door and turns to you. It's upsetting how good he looks out of his work clothes, part of you hoped that his allure was just from the pressed suit and ties he wore. But it seemed you were down bad.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, and to your obvious distress?” He smiles as he talks and you get lost in the expression for a moment.

“Distress?”

“You racing through a storm?”

“Oh… you forgot, erm, the Brandle File.” you hold up the box again, your hands shaking slightly from the cold. Rain water drips from your clothing onto his clean carpet and you wince. “I asked Mr Johnson, he gave me permission to drop it by, I know it's not professional, I don't mean to barge into your home and-”

“Hey, hey,” He looks at you warmly as he takes the box from you and puts it on the floor. His fingers brush yours and he hisses, “You're freezing!”

“I'm sorry.”

He tuts. “Don't be sorry, you'll catch your death.” He gives you an apologetic look, “all this because I haven't got my head screwed on right.”

“N-”

“I'm not taking any excuses from you for my behaviour.” He grins. “Now I'm being a terrible host.”

He ushers you upstairs and to the bathroom, handing you a laundry basket towel and dressing down. “Take a hot shower and bring your clothes down in the basket, I'll get them washed and dried for you.”

“Mr Cooper-”

“Bud.”

“Bud, I-”

“I'm not taking no for an answer sweet pea.” He smiles and leaves the room.

You sigh and stare at the full basket in your hands. It's not really like you have much of a choice.

“Use my soap if you want to!” He calls out halfway down the stairs.

The shower is wonderful, warm and soothing, and when you're done you ring out your work clothes as best you can before you put them in the basket.

The towel dressing gown is massive, it could easily fit 4 Bud's inside standing side to side, and still have room for more. It's soft and warm, and there are a pair of warm socks rolled up inside it. You put those on as well.

You hang your towel up on the side, and panically try to make sure you've put everything back in the exact place it was before you head downstairs.

It's only when your foot is on the first step that your anxiety bubbles up, nearly paralysing you. You're naked under the dressing gown. In his house. You double check the tie around your waist, making sure everything is secure.

He’s in the kitchen, bent down checking something in the oven so you have a first seat view of his ass.

God was teasing you.

“Erm, I,”

Bud spins around, still all smiles, he’s got an apron on over his house clothes that has ‘kiss the cook’ printed on it in fancy lettering. “I’ll take those, get them washed and dried for you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to.” You hate how timidly your voice comes out.

He waves a dismissive hand at you before he takes the basket. “It’s the least I can do, would you like to stay for dinner? There’s more than enough, I’ll drive you home after.” He pauses, “Not that I’m insisting on you staying, you’re more than welcome to keep the dressing gown and I’ll take you home right now.”

“No, I,” you smile a little bashfully. “Are you sure I’m not imposing?”

He shakes his head happily and busies himself by sitting you down in the living room with a hot drink before he goes to the laundry room. You have to practically beg him to make Bud stop from hunting down the spare portable heater for you.

You have a sneaky look around the room while he’s gone, just out of interest. There are a few photos, friends and family, a couple of small knick knacks.

You smile at him when he comes back in the room, “You have a lovely house.”

“Ah,” he shakes his head, “It’s not very homely. Needs some care.” He taps the door frame affectionately.

“Well, I think it’s lovely.” He puffs his chest out a little. “Thank you.” He takes a few steps closer to you, “Oh that’s Frank, he’s an old friend.” He points to the photo you were looking at. “Fishing trip last year.”

“You like fishing?”

“Hate it,” he chuckles, “Frank loves it, I think you can see by my face there, I’m not a fan.”

You giggle.

“I mean, I like the beer, and the talking and the peace and quiet, but it was fucking freezing there even though it was the middle of May. I nearly lost toes to frostbite.” He pauses, admiring your smiling face. “Thank you for bringing the file, you’re too sweet.”

“Oh,” you shrug. “It’s nothing.”

“I don’t think so, I don’t know anyone else that would do that for their boss, let alone for someone that isn’t your boss.”

You shift a little, biting your lip, trying not to let your embarrassment bubble up and overwhelm you completely. “Well…”

“I think…” Bud smiles, lightly touching your cheek and titling your head up so that you meet his gaze. “You might have a soft spot for me?”

You freeze, unable to look away from his soft eyes.

“I know I’ve got one for you.” He breathes, leaning a fraction closer. “Do you think I could try a little something, just to make it up to you? Repay you for the favour?”

“I…” You swallow. “It was no problem…”

“Please?” He smiles sweetly, you didn’t notice him take a step nearer, but you moan softly when he presses his lips to yours and groans.

It barely takes a moment before he’s licking into your mouth and walking you backwards to the sofa.

He presses you down gently before he climbs on top of you, kissing you senseless. It’s like he’s everywhere, all at once, stroking and sighing as you lean closer and wrap your arms around him.

His fingers trail down, then up your legs, lightly pushing the dressing gown higher. He breaks the kiss, breathing hard. “Can I?” He asks softly, once more looking at you with those heartbreaker eyes.

You nod, not trusting your voice. Part of you is so sure you shouldn’t be doing this, but the other doesn’t give a single fuck.

He grins happily, scooting down and pushing your clothing higher, and up to your hips. Anxiety begins to swirl and settle, but Bud groans, his eyes rolling back for a second.

“Fuck me, if this isn’t the prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen.” He licks his bottom lip before he dips down, his warm hands pulling your right thigh onto his shoulder.

You gasp as his mouth touches you and grab at the cushions as he places a soft, light kiss to your clit before he flicks out his tongue.

“Taste so good too.” He mutters, lightheaded. Something about the taste of his own soap mixed with your skin is driving him crazy. He laps again, a long slow lick through your folds that he savours while he pushes at his hardening cock with the heel of his hand.

The little whimper that escapes your throat makes him feral, makes him want to push and push until all he is pulling from you is those sounds.

He moans happily, watching you with lidding, hazy eyes as he licks, flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue after every swipe.

“Fuck,” you squirm, breathing hard and trying to get closer to the sweet warmth of his mouth. He grins, pressing closer to you and kneading the back of your thighs with his hands pushing you up and nearer, letting you rock and ride exactly how you want to.

“Bud, please,” your toes curl, pleasure shivering along your limbs, mixing with the pent up anxiety to hurtle you towards your peak.

He moans against you, the vibrations running up your nerves. Your legs part to shake, moving without your control as the sensation builds and builds and builds. You throw your head back, your spine arching as pleasure explodes out and along your skin, bathing you in its soft glow.

You come hard against his mouth, rocking and pulsing as he continues to lap and lick, whining ever so slightly when your cum finally hits his tongue. He slows his movements only stopping when your muscles relax.

“Fuck,” he wipes his mouth greedily, already craving your slick on his tongue again. “You know what, I don’t think I quite made it up to you enough.” He grins cheekily, “I think two or three more should do it.”

Thank you for reading!

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writingoddess1125 · 11 months ago

Text

Still Sexy?

Buggy x FemReader

⚠️ Warnings: ⚠️ Body Issues, Talk of Traumatic Birth, Sexual Themes.

Fluff at the end!

Click here to a magical place <-

Old Man Series <-

• You felt like a total dumpster fire- Staring at yourself in the mirror and looking over the 'damage' that had been done.

• And worse of all- You'd tore really badly while giving birth to your daughters and had to be stitched back up.

• It had been a rather traumatic experience for you.

• Being incredibly greatful for Buggy and your boys who helped so much after the birth since you weren't exactly up for the task quite yet.

• However that didnt mean things were great however. The quack doctor back at the village had decided to leave a lasting mark since he had stitched you a bit excessively..

• So you felt different inside and out-

• You and your family had gone back out to sea after 2 months- Deciding it was best to go back out. Now hitting the 5 month mark since your twin daughters births.

• You'd spent the time trying to be a good mom- Getting up for feeding, helping the boys and even pitching in with Buggy to help him get back into the swing of his pirating career.

• However you and him hadn't been Intimate.. at all.

• Mainly due to the fear he found you revolting in some aspect-

• So you slept in the baggiest pajamas, a pillow to your back or bust to keep yourself covered and whatever tactic you could to keep Buggy from even catching a glimpse of you-

• You hadn't really noticed but- buggy was getting fed up on not being able to see you. So he set his new flashy plan into motion.

• You had just gotten back from a bath, deciding to head down to the bedroom to get fresh clothes from the girls since you knew they probably needed to be changed soon. However stumbled on a rather interesting sight-

• Buggy laid on the bed, dressed the the nines facing you. The smell of apples in the air with the room done up just how you liked it.

• "Why (Y/N)~ I see you've caught me here. Alone~" Buggy said, you noticing the bottles of your favorite wine and alcohol laid out.

• "Well yeah we share this room Bugs- Whats with the new costume?-" You point out, very clearly able to tell even in the candle lit room.

• "Oh just wanted to try out something flashy. You like?" You nodded, It was a nice looking costume.

• He stood up and showed you the outfit in all its glory-

• It reminded you of a bird trying to do a mating dance by showing off its feathers and flashy colors-

• "Its lovely- I actually just came down here to grab clothes for the girls and get them changed"

• "I have Cabaji watching the kids with Alvida they have all beed fed and in fresh clothes-" Buggy said calmly.

• "Oh well I can go get the two of us di-"

• "I brought us dinner-" He said quickly pulling up a full cart of your favorite foods there.

• A bubbling of anxiety hitting your chest at this, worried now over why he was doing this all-

• "Welllll if there is nothing here for me to help with then I'll just head back up to the deck and we can go over your map-"

• "FOR FUCKS SAKE (Y/N) I WANT TO SLEEP WITH YOU!-" He blurted out.

• His face turning as red as your owns as there was a moment of silence in the room. The feeling of total confusion hitting your nervous system.

• "You.. Want to sleep with me?-" You questioned, Buggy nodding his head quickly.

• "But why? I look like this-" You gesture to yourself, still in the way to baggy clothes and soap scent hanging over you from your bath.

• "Like A Goddess herself? Fuck yeah I want to! I've been taking cold showers for months! I even put my dick in a box so I didn't walk around full tenting all day or poking you at night!" He admitted red in the face.

• "You put your dick in a box?-"

• "That's besides the point! I've wanted you for months now. Youre just so sexy to me in every way- I just wanted to give you space to heal up.. I know the birth has been hard on you and all.." He rubbed the back of his neck as he stepped closer to you.

• You felt tears welling up at his sincerity as he got closer to you wrapping his arms around your waist.

• "I just- I feel so damn ugly! My body feels like a foreign land- The weight, the stretch marks, my boobs! It is all so different from before and I don't know how to handle it- I-I didn't want you to be disgusted by me" You admit as tears ran down your cheeks and Buggys gloved hands started to wipe them away frantically.

• "What? No No- I'd never thing that! Your beautiful and- Honestly I was just worried you weren't interested either.. I mean I have but on a bit of Dad weight myself but I don't think you look bad, You've had 4 fucking kids!"

• You couldn't disagree honestly- Maybe you were a bit hard on yourself. You did push out 4 kids.. that and you hadn't even noticed Buggy had put on weight either!

• "And well- If you feel that way about your body.. Why don't we explore it together? I'm a great navigator afterall" He joked lightly, carressing yojr cheek- wanting you to smile desperately

• This managing to pull a giggle from you, Buggy smiling at this as he cuddled you close.

• You leaning into his touch with a happy sigh, while you still felt anxious.. it was better? Like you had someone there to battle it with you..

• You Weren't Alone

• "Well, Why don't we take it slow like before?- Till we both know how to go about it?" You said shyly, Blushing at just how excited he was at this as he nodded.

• "Of course Doll, we can take it as slow or fast as you need it. You're my wife afterall so you control" He says with a Goofy grin as he leaned you towards the bed and going in for a kiss.

• "When did I get upgraded to wife?"

• "....Did I never propose?-" He said confused blinking at you confused. You chuckling and shaking your head no-

• "FOR FUCK SAKES-!" He yelled, his hands floating away to his vanity as it rapidly digs through it and floats back to you quickly.

• He quickly took your hand and slid the simple ring on your finger.

• You remembered this ring- He had once showed it to the boys. It was the first piece of treasure he'd ever gotten as a Pirate Appreciate, gifted to him by his Captian Gol D Roger's.

• "There- Now you're my wife"

• You stared at your hand and the ring on your finger, before giggling at this. Nodding as you kissed his cheeks, a flush of feeling hitting your chest.

• "Yes then- Let's fuck as Husband and Wife then~" You say Leaning into his excited touch.

• "HELL YEAH!!" He said with a crazed laugh. You only able to give a squealing laugh as Buggy tackled you onto the bed with a gleeful laugh.

Bonus-

Cabaji was in hell- He was holding Ari who was making it her mission to grab his hair to pull on it. Bee and Dee who were running around in their newly built bedroom on the other wing of the ship and he had to keep them from pushing each other off their respective bunk beds.

"Don't pull your brothers hair!" Cabaji yelled, Dee letting go of Bee who fell face first on the ground. Bee pausing for a moment as he heard tapping that seemed to echo down the hall-

"Why does it sound like someone is knocking?" Bee asked, Cabaji flinching at his words as did Alvida who tried to hold back a laugh while rocking Ali.

"Don't worry about it kid-" Cabaji said softly as he turned up the Record player that was playing a lullaby to hopefully get the kids to wind down. The man gave a heavy sigh to keep the sound of what he assumed what your and Buggys rekindling relationship at bay.

#x reader #one piece #one peice x reader #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader

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artist-issues · 8 months ago

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this my sound silly, but do you have any advice on how you come up with something to say for a story?

I think you're right that good art has something to say and communicates it well. That's certainly true of every story I've ever loved.

But while I love inventing fantasy worlds, you've made me realize I've never actually planned to say anything with them.

I've got lots of opinions, lots of beliefs, lots of stuff to say, but now that I realize I need to, it's been hard to pick one of those to be the core point of a story.

the trouble is, the dominant writing advice I saw online was the opposite. that stories made for the purpose of communicating a message or promoting something just turn into preachy propaganda, so the best way to make a good story (that, dare I invoke the curse, appealed to a wider audience) was to muddy it so you could take away as many interpretations from it as possible. thus most of the material I've given myself to work with has been slightly poisoned.

I really like how you said all of that! I agree with your assessment of the advice most people give.

Here's how I do it:

A loose concept, like a disgraced knight falling in love with the King's head of staff who's come to live in the village he's hiding in, will pop into my brain. I'll like the concept. I'll imagine one or two interactions between them that I just like.

But when it comes time to write anything down, even just for my own notes—then it's time to find a message. And usually that's not hard, or at least, that's not disingenuous, because:

what I believe, my worldview, was already subliminally shaping the things that I liked.

So then as I go to write down the names, the histories, the plot points, of my fun little knight love story idea, I find that something kind of...readily fits them.

But now here's the catch; it really helps to know what you believe, and to feel strongly about it, for all of that to come as naturally as possible.

About Propaganda "versus" Stories:

It's a lie to say that something which is created to say something is always propaganda, and something which is created with no careful point thought out is always art. Silly thing to believe. It's like saying "all words are propaganda." No, all words are communication. It's not our fault they don't like that we know what we want to say, and we want them to understand it clearly.

I mean. All art is propaganda, if by "propaganda" or "preachy" you mean, "I tried to take what was going on in my head & heart and put it in your head & heart." All art, all storytelling, is that. Otherwise you'd just keep what you think and feel bouncing around in your own brain, instead of doing anything outward (writing, drawing, painting, singing, speaking, reacting with your body language) with it.

I think what people are getting at when they say "avoid being preachy" or "that's not art, it's propaganda" is "you weren't being genuine." And that can be true. Sometimes people can tack a meaning onto a movie or a story where it doesn't fit because they either a) don't believe that strongly in the thing themselves, but everyone around them was clamoring for it or b) they were lazy and didn't do the work to make the story fit, genuinely, with the message, in a way that enhances and makes the message winsome.

But as bad as those two mistakes are, neither of them prove that intending to say something with your story, very carefully and genuinely, that you don't want misinterpreted, is somehow a bad thing.

Look at the fairy tales that the Brothers' Grimm collected. Look at any stories from the time before commercialism: Our oldest stories combined genuine enjoyment with the virtues and meanings that made enjoyment possible/worthwhile.

Anyway. I have a feeling you agree with me already about this so I'll hop down off that soap box.

What Comes First: Having Fun Making What You Like, or Choosing Something to Say?

I don't think it is wrong to tell a story that...you didn't have an intended thesis written down for. I think people like J.R.R. Tolkien and Walter Elias Disney prove that. But the thing is, what they believed got infused into their storytelling, because of course it did. It can't help it. When you want the audience to like your lead character, you make her likeable—but the traits you think are likeable are informed by something.

Snow White is innocent and pure because Walt Disney naturally considered those things beautiful and good and worth liking. He probably didn't even think to write it down and revolve everything around it: it just came out that way.

Frodo is a little scholar, and willing to soldier on with what little he can do, despite his lack of experience, because those are character traits Tolkien felt were good and likeable. Why? Because deep down, in his worldview, he believes being book-smart and doing what you can with what you have is valuable. And that just...comes out, much like his valuing of history, in the thing he creates.

Now, if they didn't know what they believed--or if they were insecure people "blown about by every wind of false doctrine" that comes their way--or if they were focused more on satisfying what the largest number of people liked--they wouldn't have been able to infuse the story with any genuine meaning, planned-out or natural.

That's what I think.

I think it's all a matter of loving what's good and true. Training your affections, so that you care most about things that are worth caring about—the things you feel most strongly about in characters will be the things you feel most strongly about in life. I love Stitch because I love redemption. Not primarily because I love sci-fi characters, the color blue, or the blend of ugly-and-cute—even though I do like those things on a more minor scale. See?

But if you've trained your affections for junk food—you feel most strongly appreciative of characters that are hot, or spout off funny one-liners, or come onscreen to cool music—then that's what will naturally come up in your own storytelling.

There's also nothing wrong with doing it the other way; saying you want to teach a certain lesson, and then coming up with characters and settings to fit that lesson. Coming at it from that direction is just as valid—as long as you put in the work, and care more about that lesson you genuinely believe in than you do what other people think.

Anyway,

To Write Your Own Main Point/Thesis/Armature/Theme

When it’s time to start writing anything down, it’s time to figure out the main point, and that’s when I...typically think about what I'd want to teach the kids I'm around, to be honest.

With my disgraced-knight love story, I go "what is it he loves about the girl, in all those vague vibe-y scenes I’ve been picturing?" And I make the connection between her virtuous character traits to what I want him, the main character, to learn.

So for example, she used to live in the palace, working for the King, but she was humble enough to give all that up and live in a no-name town to take care of her stepfather. He's disgraced and doesn't want anyone to know who he is—well, that's a pride issue, totally the opposite of how humble his love interest is. And why’s she humble? Because she’s not focused on herself. She doesn’t care about her own reputation or status. So then I just reverse engineer that: the point of the story is "Live in the King's name, not your own." Now one of the two main characters embodies that—the other has to learn it, and the story is the obstacle course he’s pushed through to get there.

I wasn't consciously thinking about making her the king's former head of staff, or him disgraced, when I first came up with the vague concept of the story, see? I just liked the "vibe" of a hopeless dude suddenly seeing a ray of light in the "vibe" of a girl from poor circumstances who seems happy regardless of them. I liked that "vibe." Then I traced what I liked about the vibe back to something that is true and worth teaching or appreciating in real life.

I’m in a job I don’t love right now, and it could make me miserable, but if I just remember “in everything you do, whether in word or in deed, do for the glory of the Lord,” then my focus isn’t on myself and I have joy and hope. And that hope can be used to point others, around me, to hope, too. So I’m not “preaching” something disingenuous; I’m living it, because this is what I believe, so no wonder it’s also leaking it’s way into my story. I just happen to be creating a pipe so that the leak flows more smoothly, which can only help, in the long run.

But I’ve done it other ways, too. Once I watched kind of from afar as a friend’s family fell apart. I felt like, from the outside, I could see where one of my friends was hurting and what they needed to accept (from the Bible) to move forward, but I wasn’t in a position to say it to my friend directly. Then I figured, “if my one friend is going through this situation, others probably are too, and this lesson from the Bible is universal anyway” so I…made up an analogy for the way their family fell apart, then came up with an ending that taught the “family” in the analogy the lesson I got from the Bible. So for that, you can see how I first came up with the main point, then built up characters and a world and a story to fit around it.

Both ways work, the chicken or the egg first. But they only work if you are committed to working hard and serving others with your story, not committed to being popular or “only making what YOU like.”

Make sense? I hope so! Thank you for the question!

#Asked #answered #storytelling #writing #writing tips #stories #how to write #themes #theming #main point #Walt Disney #j.r.r. tolkien

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