#It's a stupid throwaway moment and not that deep but for them I will always pull out the shovel and dig | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kingfishered · 1 year ago

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Johnny rolled his eyes with a fond smile, clearly not actually bothered by Simon’s refusal to give him an answer. He would find out eventually though, he was determined to. Call it… professional curiosity, finding out who else Simon was close with.

Maybe he was just lying to mess with him, actually. That would be a very Simon thing to do.

The confidence with which he declared his disagreement of a throwaway comment Johnny made took him by surprised for a moment. It soothed insecurities that he didn’t even know he was feeling, deep-rooted as they were. He kept those thoughts to himself, but the smile on his face gave away how pleased it made him feel.

He tried to sound casual about the suggestion because he was feeling anything but. He was worried his overwhelming enthusiasm for the idea might end up putting Simon off, and hoped that if he mentioned it like it was something totally normal, that he’d be fine if he was turned down, he’d feel less pressured. Whether it worked or not, he didn’t know - but he did get the answer he wanted, and he could no longer hide the growing grin on his face.

Simon may have sounded a little blunt with his reply, but Johnny knew by the speed with which he’d agreed, almost interrupting him, that Simon was almost as eager about the idea as him. ‘Might make it tolerable’? He was positively giddy about the idea.

If Johnny found out the reason Simon brought that house - his want for domesticity, craving it in just the same way he did - he might melt into a sappy little puddle in his bed, right then and there. Only, Simon thought it was unattainable for himself. That wouldn’t be a problem for Johnny, though, because he wanted it so badly with him that he was determined to do anything in his power to one day have it.

One day. However long away that might be.

And then, the next words Simon said might have been the best thing he’d heard all day. Fuck that, the best thing he’d heard ever.

“I would love nothin’ more,” he said, and yeah, his excitement was definitely showing now. “Where is yer place? Wha’s it like?”

Alright, so this was actually going to happen. He was going to spend weeks, potentially months, alone with Simon at his house. He was… he was so normal about this. Incredibly normal.

(He felt like a teenager with a stupid crush who’d just accepted his advances, thinking about holding hands in the hallways and making out behind the science block. He was looking forwards to this far too much.)

---

Elsie saw Price’s relief at her approval and, really, did he have that little faith in her? Was he really expecting her entire relationship with her son to come crashing down just because he liked a man rather than a woman? After all the struggles they’d been through to repair their relationship, after she’d just driven her kids 7 hours across a whole country on such short notice because she’d been told he needed her?

These kids were her whole life, she wasn’t sure there was a single thing that could make her hate them.

Her heart admittedly sunk a little when he confirmed there were rules about it, especially when he said he couldn’t discuss them with her. She understood, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. His reassurance that she could let him deal with it soothed her nerves, though. She trusted he would keep them safe from those rules, because it sounded to her like their fondness for each other was keeping them alive out there.

She’d always wondered, actually, how John managed to stay in the military with his ADHD, because she was almost certain that wasn’t allowed. She was pretty sure she’d just found her answer. Still, she… wasn’t going to mention it. Just in case.

Elsie took a deep breath and cleared her breath one last time, pulling a mirror from her purse to quickly check her makeup was still intact and her eyes weren’t too noticeably red. When she was satisfied she tucked it away again, along with the tissue she’d still held scrunched in her hand.

For now, she had cried out what she needed to. She’d wiped her cheeks dry and her voice was strong again, ready to leave the safety of the office and continue on like nothing had happened.

“Suppose we should,” Elsie agreed, moving to stand. “Beth will be fine, but I don’t doubt Lorna’s found herself some trouble already.”

Then, it was to the canteen and her girls to find a place for them to stay.

Only after leaving the office did she realise that that must have been the entire reason he’d brought her there in the first place: to let her put down her strength for just a moment and cry.

“It’s need-to-know, I’m afraid, Johnny,” Simon continued to tease, though he kept his eyes trained closely on Johnny’s face on the off chance that he actually began to feel hurt by it.

Truthfully, if anyone else had tried falling asleep on his shoulder, he might have broken their neck. He wasn’t exactly a tactile person, Johnny surely had figured that much out at this point, and having someone’s face that close to his own made his skin feel as if there were thousands of tiny bugs crawling just beneath it, scaling along his bones and burrowing deep into his muscle tissue.

The thought earned a soft lip curl of distaste. Sometimes he did worry about what went on inside his own head, it was an enigma even to him.

Then, he took on more of a serious tone. “I don’t think I could ever get sick of you, Johnny.” He’d said it with such a wholehearted conviction that there wasn’t any room for Johnny to try and argue even if he wanted to. It was true, it really was. Quite truthfully, Simon did worry he might be a little bit obsessed with him.

He could cross that bridge when he came to it.

The casual tone that Johnny spoke his wishes with threw Simon off, it almost seemed like he was making it out to just be something two soldiers did when they went on leave. Make plans to spend the entire time together and never leave each other's side.

Was that all this was going to be to Johnny? Two guys hanging out after having confessed their love for each other?

He had to shake the anxiety from his head, jarring himself a little too much and he tightened his grip on the sheets beneath him to stall the rapidly intensifying sensation of nausea. No, he couldn’t think like that, not about Johnny.

Johnny asked. He asked. He wanted to, and all Simon had to do was calmly question his leave plans before he asked the question Simon had been trying to find the strength to ask himself.

If Johnny would be there with him, maybe Simon would take a bit more extended medical leave. He could have Price send him whatever work he needed to get done, and he could stay home with Johnny and pretend that they were the only people in the world.

Once again, every thought, every possibility of what might happen when they were together, under one roof, alone… It all seemed so beautifully unattainable.

Simon wasn’t exactly built for that kind of life, the kind he’d tried to force onto himself when he first bought his house in Chester. It was a home, there were families that lived on his street and retired couples who still acted like they were in their honeymoon phase.

He wasn’t built for that kind of life, but, by fuck, did he wish he was.

“Yes,” Simon replied bluntly, somehow having condensed all those thoughts down into a mere few seconds before he nearly cut Johnny off with how eagerly he replied. “I’d… Yeah, I mean. I’d like for you to come with me, might make it-” Actually feel like a home if you were there? “-tolerable, you know, the leave.”

A small amount of concern began to smoulder inside Simon’s chest. Would it put Johnny off? To find out that his hard, sturdy exterior was just that?

That years ago, he’d bought a little house outright in the most peaceful neighbourhood he could find under the ignorant assumption that one day he might be able to live out the rest of his life quietly.

He hoped it wouldn’t bother him, but with his luck, he wouldn’t exactly be surprised if that was Johnny’s dealbreaker. It had all been going far too well, something was bound to go wrong.

“We’ll see, yeah? Don’t know how long you’d have to go back with your family for. Maybe you could just…” Move in with me, Simon mused, but he couldn’t find the right words to say it without thinking he sounded pathetic. “...stick around my place. Take a proper leave to go see them, not one where you can barely walk, ey?”

God, he was such a fucking coward.

---

If Elsie was to ask him if Soap would ever be the same after everything that had happened, he wouldn’t lie to her about it.

He wouldn’t be the same, not even close. He’d still be their John, though. He’d need them more than ever if he had to leave permanently, having the rug pulled from beneath you like that was more than enough of a reason to go absolutely haywire or, as sometimes it happened, go completely the other way and shut down altogether.

Unfortunately, he’d seen both.

Price couldn’t hide the look of relief on his face upon hearing that Elsie approved of their bond. He’d have to tell Simon when he undoubtedly got into his own head and had a nervous breakdown because he actually had gotten attached to someone in such an intimate way, that Elsie had said that John talks about him like he’s his entire world.

They’d all said as much, he was sure, but sometimes that was all it needed. An outsider’s perspective to really get reality to set in.

If she ever told Price that she approved of them because Simon sounded like he was a good man, he’d laugh at the insinuation to hide the pride surging through him as if she had just complimented his actual son.

“Simon does care about your lad. Don’t think I’ve ever seen him be quite as gentle to anyone as he is with Johnny. Reckon it drives him mad, ey? You don’t have to worry about that.”

But, she seemed to begin to worry anyway.

She was right to worry, too. Technically they shouldn’t be together. But, there were a lot of dubious technicalities when it came to their little PMC. It was only an issue because of Simon’s rank. Because he was an officer, the legal services on base would have a field day if they ever found out about their… situation.

Price simply decided he’d make sure that never happened, he had enough things to hold over people’s heads to get the problems to disappear.

“He is, and there are rules about it. There are a lot of rules, and… Well, they aren’t really something I can discuss with non-military personnel,” Price began, speaking slowly and carefully. It wasn’t anything against her, he hoped she knew that. “Leave the technical side of things t’me, hm? I’ll make sure our boys don’t get themselves in any trouble they can’t get out of, even if I have to ignore some red tape t’do it.”

A subtle glance over, and Price felt satisfied that Elsie had managed to collect herself enough for them to leave the room. She might have to find another moment alone to break down again eventually, but for now, she was as solid as she was going to get.

“We oughta find your girls, ey? Don’t want to leave ‘em unsupervised for too long, not if they’re anything like your John.”

#[ SOAP ] general #[ KF ] threads #the141ghost #[ SOAP ] in character

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canonicallysoulmates · 2 years ago

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Hey I love your blog. I didn't think I'd be a tinhatter ever but damn that's all I see now.

The only thing is I feel like there's such mixed signals these days. Like I know they've had cons together and have been really sweet. But then there's the whole thing where Jared canceled an appearance and Jensen shaded him pretty badly?

How do you keep your hope? Cause I want to but I feel so fucking depressed about it.

Hi, glad you're loving the blog!

I assume the moment you bring up is how during JIB12, which Jared had to skip due to work, Jensen made a joke at the opening where he started to say that those who couldn't attend send their- then stopped and said they didn't say shit but the important thing is that they were there. Some took this as Jensen being shady, and listen people can interpret the moment however they want but I'm gonna give you my perspective which is that if you watch the moment it's clear that it was said as a lighthearted, throwaway joke. Most likely Jensen knew Jared's plans to check in virtually at some point during the con, which he did he checked in twice, which is why he made the joke. But in typical fashion for this fandom it was blown out of proportion.

As for how I keep my hope, I have the benefit that j2 is not my first hat rodeo my hat years pre-j2 have definitely been a great advantage to me. Something else that has helped is that I have learned to take a step back, take a deep breath and look at the full picture. This fandom has a record of twisting things, taking things out of context, drowning in a glass of water, or just straight-up lying. So when something negative makes the rounds, take a step back, take a deep breath, and then assess the claims.

It's so easy to get swept up in the negativity and focus on it that you can miss out on the positive ones. Like how when it comes to JIB12 some rather focus on the stupid joke but don't take into consideration the lovely things the boys said about each other. Always look at the full picture because sometimes our view can be distorted.

I personally don't see any mixed signals, but I'm gonna give you a little exercise, you don't have to do it and I'm not expecting an answer this is just something that I think might help but feel free to ignore it! When you have a moment, don't do this when you're busy, take that step back, think on all the beautiful, loving j2 moments we've gotten just this year (if you're struggling to remember feel free to go through my tinhat tag) then add the moments that are giving you mixed signals, does the full picture change your perspective? If you put it on a scale do the "negative" moments really outweigh and/or outnumber the loving ones? Or were you simply giving more focus to those "negative" moments making them seem bigger than what they are?

Hope this helps!

#j2 tinhat #anon #ask

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sinisterlyhan · 4 years ago

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06. hwang hyunjin / 9259 words

badboy!hyunjin (kind of), virgin female reader, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, corruption kink, overstimulation, fingering, a little fluff

tw: overstimulation, faint yandere themes

a/n: hello, josie! i might have dragged this out a little but i hope you like it, nonetheless 🙇🏻‍♀️💞

req:

a bolt of lightning cracked through the night, rainy sky. the sound that erupted along with it was heinously loud, echoing through every corner of the city, and thus, startling you.

hyunjin furrowed his brows when you winced, your hands going up to your head so you could cover your ears upon nature's piercing attack against them.

"here, you can wear this."

clutched between hyunjin's fingers was an oversized hoodie, one you humbly asked for when the weather was beginning to get chilly further into the night, and you were unfortunately stuck with a simple t-shirt and a pair of denim shorts because you had not anticipated a thunderstorm tonight.

even with the heavy rain outside, you never planned on staying the night at your best friend's apartment. it wasn't unbearable in any way, you could still get on the bus and walk home by yourself. or, if push comes to shove, you would simply grab a cab and have it drive directly to your apartment building.

it genuinely wasn't anything to feel overwhelming concern about.

but hyunjin was not having any of your excuses when you told him you could still make your way home. the rain was pouring too heavily outside, he'd be damned if he ever let you go outside alone, even if it was to head back home.

it took him a whole lot of persuasion to get you to stay behind. it had started with short, playful threats, something along the lines of "hey, if you leave this house i'll chain you to the bed so you can't leave!" words that you didn't take too strongly to heart because he had been laughing when he said it.

however, when you began to insist against his wish, hyunjin suddenly opted for a much softer approach. he reasoned with you about it, telling you how dangerous it could be to head outside at this time of day and under such horrible weather.

you were already caving in half-way down his argument. his voice was toned down to a hush when he spoke to you, and you could never resist it when hyunjin puts down his stoic and aggressive facade in exchange for softness, all just so he could talk to you more calmly and carefully.

plus, he was looking out for your safety. it was indeed unsafe to head outside with the sky crying waterfalls down your head. the roads were slippery, the night was dark and cold, and the empty streets could be haunting.

hyunjin has a point when he wanted you to stay at his apartment for the night. but, despite all that, despite the logic and the consideration, what really got your heart tugging its strings was when he cooed at you to listen to him.

"come on, (name), be a good girl and listen to me, hmm?"

"thank you so much," you said meekly after putting your phone down on the table, trying to shake off the recollection of his low voice addressing you in such a seductive way.

he probably didn't intend for it to come off that way. hyunjin has always been a handful with his teases and laid-back affection. calling you names like that—this wasn't the first time, and unfortunately, he gets you every single time he shoots you a little "good girl," or a small "baby."

it was just what hyunjin does, he probably didn't mean anything by it. it was your mind that went south, being wishful and delusional that he might have said those words out of genuine affection.

"what did your parents say?" he asked after you received his hoodie. he slumped down on the couch next to you, his knee brushing against your bare one when he got into a more comfortable position.

"my dad offered to come and fetch me, but i told him it's fine since i don't want him to drive under this weather," you said, laughing a little as you spread open the hoodie and reached down to the hem. "they can be a little too worried sometimes, but i understand. especially since it's my first time staying over at a boy's home."

"what's so scary about that?" he commented nonchalantly, "it's not like i haven't stayed over at your home before."

you frowned at him, slightly annoyed by his tendency to refute everything your parents has to say about him or your friendship with him. even though you were two legs down on the same boat as him whenever your parents mentioned how much they didn't want you being friends with somebody like hyunjin.

they knew nothing about him, surely. but the piercings-decorated ears, the dyed long hair, the tattooed arms, and the bruises all over his skin were such dead giveaways of his character. not to mention they caught him sleeping in your room multiple times after he snuck in through the balcony window.

"they just don't want me to do anything stupid," you muttered.

"and what stupid thing can you do when you are trapped here alone with me?" he pressed on, eyeing you sharply. his voice was almost caught in a mocking tone as if he was making fun of you for not straightforwardly saying the word 'sex.'

but to be truthful, hyunjin was mostly disappointed that you would refer to that as something stupid. it was as if you could never see yourself laying in bed with him, at least not in intimate quarters.

"hmm, (name)? is it the same kind of stupid thing we could have done when i was hiding under your blanket the other night when your parents came to check your room?"

"hey, hey, what are you talking about," you nervously laughed as you stood up. lightly kicking his leg, you gave him a short frown. "don't make fun of me."

he didn't reply. he only watched as you busied yourself with wearing his hoodie. you pulled the hem to the side, giving yourself space as you raised your arms to lift the clothing above your head. his eyes traveled from the hoodie to your body, and for a split second, he could see the outline of your breasts through the tight shirt you wore.

shit, you took off your bra after showering and just never put it back on.

the sight was gone as quickly as it came. you pulled his hoodie over your head and down your torso, the end of it falling gracefully past your shorts to expose only the soft skin of your thighs.

"oh, okay, there we go," you hummed in satisfaction, pulling at the hoodie and fixing the cuffs. then you looked at hyunjin, smiling. "this feels really comfortable!"

he hummed with amusement, leaning his head to the side where his elbow was propped up on the armrest to focus on the television. and when you heard his laugh, you could only roll your eyes and gently kick him in the shin, assuming that he was making fun of your appearance.

but the laughter he had hung on his mouth was truly nothing more than an innocent facade used to hide the deep, seething lust masked beneath his bright brown eyes.

starting from something as trivial as the fresh rosy scent you smelt of after taking a shower, and the way his socks engulfed your small ankles, to something as knees-tightening as the sight of your nipples poking through your thin shirt and the shower water that once trickled past your delicate skin.

and now his hoodie, covering your small figure. your small, throwaway, fuckable body.

he has never had to control himself this much before. surely, he has had his fair share of dirty fantasies before, but he would only allow those vile thoughts when he was alone and able to take care of it by himself.

all those filthy things he wanted to do to you; the way he could make you scream, the way you would taste on his tongue, the way you would feel around his much bigger self—he threw them all away, unlike the way he would usually deal with them, which was to simply get his way.

"ah!" you flinched again, a yelp leaving your lips when another bolt of lightning zapped through the air.

hyunjin looked over at you, his brow raising at your curled up body. you had pulled your legs up to your chest in an attempt to appear smaller and tighter, to hug yourself to your body as if that would stop the sky from exploding.

it was adorable, the way your eyes squinted and your hands curled into tiny fists to hide under his sleeve. but what he cared about the most was how you had chosen to fall to his side, your head hitting his arm and your body snuggling up next to his unpredictably.

"they're just lightning, dumbass," he commented, yet still reaching an arm over your body to pull you close. “nothing scary about it. it’s not like they can reach indoors.”

"yeah, but they're really loud," you retorted, looking up at him with wide eyes and casually brushing your legs against his. "i got surprised!"

hyunjin sighed after he glanced down at you. your sparkly eyes looking at him in an almost taunting manner, telling him you have no idea what you were doing to him, with the exposed collarbones and the bare legs and the fresh smell coming from your body.

you were clueless. it was your blatant innocence that pushed all his dirty desires to the back of his head. and he has willed himself not to make any move on you because he wanted to preserve that purity within your heart and your core. at least until it was prime time for him to break you down, that was.

(and oh, how he would completely ruin you from inside out when he gets the permission to do so.)

"how can you get surprised even after it happened twice in a row," he rolled his eyes, then he laughed, pulling you into a playful headlock, "admit it, you just wanna get close to me, don't you?”

with that said, you immediately pulled yourself away. albeit, it did take you a hesitant moment to be able to slip out of hyunjin’s chokehold (hilariously, he was the one unwilling to let you go), but you managed by ducking your head and quickly pulling yourself away. when you were finally free of his grasp, he could see that your face had started to heat up from his words, a faint blush adorning your cheeks.

hyunjin widened his eyes. there was only amusement on his face, not one inch of his mind was taking you seriously when you looked so uptight yet tiny in the process of trying to pull yourself together.

“woah–what, i can’t be surprised by thunder anymore?” you defended, pulling your face at him to try to get the attention off your flusteredness. “you–you try going about one a normal day and being interrupted by that loud, freaking thing in the sky–yah!”

as if the sky could hear your intolerant insult, it countered back with a round of humongous thunderclaps, the flashing of the lighting so bright that it was as if someone took a picture of the living room with flash on.

you let out a high-pitched squeal at the sight, your eyes widening, and immediately your first instinct was to fall forward onto hyunjin to hide away from the intruding weather.

hyunjin was ready to catch you. for a second, he was still able to breathe out a laugh at your reaction. but when you have finally dropped on top of him, your body leaning against his chest and your small hand gripping his inner thighs, the space close to where his hardened cock was, he found his heart stuttering.

to make the matter worse, when your clumsy-self decided to sit up upon hearing the gasp that he has let out, your eyes afraid as you thought you had injured him, you only fell forward with an airy trip, your hand scooting over to palm his cock directly.

"shit–" he moaned when your bodyweight forced the pressure down on him, his eyes glowing a shade of lust as he glared at your red cheeks and widened eyes.

"oh–oh, no! i'm sorry, i didn't mean–woah!"

you opened your shut-tight eyes only after you felt your back hit the surface of the couch. you couldn't move your legs nor your body, having been trapped under hyunjin's weight after he tackled you down with your hands pinned to the side of your head.

his mind blanked out there, he wasn't sure where he got this sudden courage from.

it wasn't the courage to pin you on a surface. oh no. he has been doing that in his head many times now, he would have no problem enacting it in real life. not to mention the way you were always rendered speechless with dazed eyes and drool dripping down your chin in his head. he would be stupid to pass up an opportunity to make you all messy like that.

it was the courage to break through his self-control, to finally let your endearing innocence go and finally give himself the chance to see if you were capable of being fucked until you couldn't think about anything else, of being ruined beyond repair.

it was all he could think about when he caught your eyes.

"are you sure you didn't mean to do that?" he asked in a hiss, his breathing heavy and loud. "you know, you've been teasing me the whole night, (name). i'm starting to think you might actually be a fucking whore."

the soft fringes of his hair tickled your skin, but nothing could have diverted your attention from the proximity between the both of you. his face was so close, so heart-flutteringly close yet so painstakingly far that you still weren't kissing him yet.

"why are you not saying anything, hmm?" he muttered near your ear. "don't tell me you're actually this clueless about sex, are you?"

the tip of his nose ghosting down the side of your neck until he found a spot he could leave a mark on.

it was a hesitant kiss. he waited for you to try and push him away, and he had planned to resist your protest to see if you would have a change of heart and allow him the privilege to finally feel you up. but you didn't, you simply laid there, heavy breaths leaving your mouth and knees pressing together as he sucked a harsh bruise on your skin.

hyunjin smirked upon your lack of protest, his heart simmering with joy as he relentlessly attacked your neck with kisses and sucks until he left you with a short pool of hickeys.

you whimpered at the feeling; slightly painful, but also very new and intriguing at the same time. besides, you knew that hyunjin was sucking marks onto your neck, and oh—how alluring was that? being claimed as his, having the presence of his teeth on your body.

you loved it and so did he.

"you still haven't answered my question, baby doll," he said after pulling away, his eyes briefly admiring the purples on one side of your neck before returning to you.

he raised a brow at your flushed cheeks, his grip around your wrist tightening unconsciously as he imagined the way you would look with this hazy expression and your naked body—sweating, blissful, and completely fucked out of your head.

"wh–what question...?" you asked, your voice small and timid before his enticingly lustful eyes.

hyunjin chuckled. he had a feeling that he might be frightening you with this new side of him, and the ego boost it gave him was immaculate. god, you're so small, so timid, so easy to control—it was exactly the way he wanted it.

"are you this clueless about sex?” he mumbled, letting go of your wrist slowly by sliding his hand down along your arm, going further and further down until his fingers were dancing around your exposed thighs. "or are you just faking it?"

"i–" you cut off with a gasp, your knees immediately pinching together as your body flinched at the sudden brush of his fingers against your clothed core.

hyunjin raised a brow. he moved his index finger, adding more pressure to the middle of your pussy while his thumb blindly found your clit. you sucked in loudly, your eyes casting away from his face as your back arched off the couch at the new feeling.

"huh... you really aren't faking it," he purred under his breath, rubbing circles against your clothed clit to bring out a hefty response from you. "well, it's not like i doubted you or anything. you couldn't even curse properly, let alone being fucked raw."

his hand left your core then, eager and impatient. moving up to the waist of your shirt, he fumbled around with the button and the zipper, his eyes focusing on the way your face scrunched up without a word of denial. you simply laid there, letting him do whatever he wanted, dots of doubt clouding your eyes.

his hand slipped under your denim shorts, his hand rubbing across the surface soothingly first before his finger tugged at the hem of your panties. and he attempted to pull them off your hips finally, wanting nothing more than to leave your lower-half naked for him.

you let out a short yelp of surprise when you sensed that you would have nothing but the hoodie to cover yourself up after he gets rid of them. the thought of that made you shudder. you couldn't even muster up the courage to look at yourself in the mirror, let alone letting hyunjin (of all people) see you, touch you, play you.

noticing your agitation, he furrowed his brows and, for a moment, seemingly wanted to stop what he was doing. perhaps he was taking it too far, perhaps you only didn't protest against it because you wanted to please him, to take care of his feelings because that's what you always do.

you were always so damn nice to him. sometimes he feels like all he does is take you for granted.

"i–actually–sorry, shit," he cursed, his hand leaving your opened shorts as he released your wrist. "i'm sorry, god–fuck, what am i doing?"

"hyunjin," you whispered out, surprised at the sudden change of mood.

sitting up, your eyes chased after his aggressive expression and you frowned. he was blaming himself for something, perhaps for what he had apologized for. "hyunjin, are you okay?"

"yeah, i am. just..." he huffed out in annoyance, not looking at you. "i'm sorry, i should have asked first before i did all that. i don't even know if you are comfortable with something like that, shit."

"oh! no, no, i'm actually–well, yes, it would have definitely been nice if you had asked first, hyunjin. that i do agree with." you nodded to yourself with all seriousness, then you burst out of it and turned to him, your eyes bright. "but it's okay! i–uh, i..."

your hands fumbled about in the air, your face scrunched up with shy embarrassment. you weren't sure how you should go about saying you wanted to try it out, whatever hyunjin was just doing to you, you had wanted him to continue.

"i'm just shy, and i have never tried this before, that's why i might look like i don't like it but i–i promise i do!" you said, waving your hands and laughing awkwardly. "besides, if i am to do this with anybody, i think i'll be the most comfortable doing it with you, hyunjin."

his eyes widened. that was not the kind of response he was expecting to get. it was great to know that you felt comfortable enough with him to go this far with the intimacy, but he hadn't expected you to confess to him this way. and right now, looking at you, all he could think about was kissing you, hard on the mouth.

you squealed when he reached out for your face, his fingers gripping your cheeks tightly as he pulled you toward him. his lips brushed firmly against yours, finally, molding perfectly with the shape of your mouth as he kissed you with an infinite amount of desperation.

he was pushing you down again, his body pressing close to yours this time while he concentrated on the feeling of your lips. he was moving quickly, at a pace you couldn't catch up on, therefore making the kiss sloppy and ugly. but neither of you cared. you two have had your affections for each other concealed for too long to break out of this kiss.

opening his mouth, hyunjin harshly bit on your bottom lip, pulling at it to gain a small moan out of you. his hand roamed down from your face to your legs, his hand raking up your thighs to your shorts, and he finally finished with getting it off of you and throwing it to the ground.

"tell me when you want me to stop, okay?" he pulled away from a moment to speak, his eyes staring into yours quietly while his fingers moved near your naked core. "because i don't plan to stop from here on, i won't be able to."

you looked up at him, your heart beating loudly. the air brushed against the lips of your pussy, a cold sensation awaiting for several digits of warmth that would be welcomed between your tight walls as soon as you give the cue. and you felt weirdly excited; scared and excited, with a perfectly weird mixture of arousal dripping along your heart.

"okay, i will," you told him, and he smiled.

"good girl," he praised, rubbing the side of your head. "this is going to feel great, i promise.”

and he was right. it did feel great. it felt new, weird; you have never had anything shoved into your pussy before, not even your own fingers. your first reaction was to clench your legs shut, your knees wanting to desperately close together upon the feeling of hyunjin’s index finger slipping between your lips. but he had stopped you just in time, a hand holding onto your knee and pushing your legs apart for more access.

your walls were clenching down on him hard as well. the unfamiliar feeling has got your entire body going on defense mode, and hyunjin wasn’t sure if he found it hilarious or arousing. he has not met anyone like you in a long while, most people he encountered before were experienced and polished. this was probably his first time having to hold someone’s hand and walk the process through with.

not that he was against the idea of that, though. you might think being inexperienced would be one of your shortcomings, but the superiority your shyness was giving hyunjin was everything he could ask for from the gods above. and for once, he felt like he could take care of you instead of having it be the other way around.

“it’s okay, doll, just concentrate on my hand,” he whispered against your ear, his finger sliding in and out slowly to give you time to adjust to the sensation, to wait for the feeling to consume you when your walls could finally register the friction. “i got you, doll. i’ll make you feel real nice, okay?”

your voice became more and more confident as they turned from letting out short, whimsical breathes to giving him cute, lovely whimpers. the quicker his fingers pumped, the more you could feel your abdomen tightening with a hurried sensation, something akin to the feeling of needing to release.

“jin–hyunjin–“ you moaned out, your face flushed pink and your small hands tightening around his shoulders. “i–ahh!“

you huffed out a breath, your toes curling when he didn’t slow down. instead, he added his fourth finger, slipping it into your cunt quickly and seamlessly before he started to fuck both fingers into your heat, going in and out at a satisfactory pace that made your inexperienced mind see stars. he smirked at your reaction, the lack of words an indirect approval to what he was doing.

“there we go, baby doll,” he said, your slickness rubbing along his skin and lubing his fingers up perfectly. the squelching sound became louder and louder as he stretched you out by moving his fingers in a scissoring motion, occasionally curling them to hit the top for more pressure. “it feels good, doesn’t it? hmm? don’t be shy, tell me how it feels.”

“ye–yes, hyunjin!” you nodded, your eyes darting everywhere on the ceiling. the weird sensation in your tummy was magnifying with each thrust, you could feel the explosion approaching and you didn’t know how to prepare for it. you could only focus on his hands; in, out, in, out. quicker, stronger, thrusting into your hole as if it was the most entertaining thing to do.

“it feels good, it feels–hyunjin i–my tummy–“

you kept trying to hold it in. whatever it was that would spill out of you, you had no idea if he would like that, and you’d be embarrassed if it wasn’t something normal. hyunjin, upon hearing your incoherent words, furrowed his brows slightly and slowed down his pace, unsure if you were trying to get him to stop.

“what is it, baby?” he asked carefully, kissing your cheek and not letting his lips leave your face.

“oh, it’s gone, it’s–there was this weird feeling,” you mumbled to him. “i felt like… like i wanted to pee, or something.”

ah. the light flooded into his eyes, understanding what you meant and immediately feeling the itch of his cock and the twitch of his fingers. that was what got you all messed up—an orgasm. god, how fucking despicable! you couldn’t even properly understand the concept of it, you naive little doll. how would you be like when he let you have one, hmm?

your first orgasm, given by none other than himself. fuck, just thinking about it made him so excited!

he finally let out a chuckle after moments of self-contemplation. he kissed your cheek, your cute chubby cheek. then his hand got to moving, really moving; his fingers were pounding into you, hitting your insides in a hurried pace because he wanted so desperately to get you back to where you were.

it did not take you long. the surprise overwhelmed you quickly and he has you moaning in no time. the tension in your tummy built itself right back up upon the incredible pace, your eyes flashing brightly as the whiteness consumed your mind. hyunjin focused on your face, his eyes sharp as a hawk as he observed all parts of your precious face.

your eyes shut, your lips quirked down, your brows arched up as bliss took over your body—you looked so pretty, it was unreal. the fact that he was causing it felt even more unbelievable.

a final moan brought your release then, your walls clenching down on his fingers as your essence spilled along your walls, coving his fingers up. you have never felt this wet before. how peculiar, you could feel the essence in your pussy, feeling it coat hyunjin’s finger with bubbles of whiteness.

hyunjin smiled to himself, contentment sprouting within his chest when you slumped onto the surface of the couch after your first orgasm, already looking dizzy and tired.

how adorable. he was barely done with you.

wait until he put his cock in you and you’d be done for.

“good job, baby doll,” he praised, kissing your eyes and your mouth before sitting up.

his fingers slipped out of your pussy, letting your cool down for a moment before he held it up to his face. he smirked at the glistening arousal, all sticky and bubbled up like white glue. he couldn’t stop looking at his fingers and the cum adorning the digits; how pretty, it all came from you, it all came from your insides!

you almost thought he planned to lick his fingers and suck off the juices in front of you. but instead, hyunjin reached down to his sweats and carefully pushed it off his hips. your chest rose at the sight of his member, stuffed beneath his tight boxers and aching to be let out to breathe. and you immediately looked away when he noticed you staring with wide eyes, your face once again getting hot.

“aww, is my baby shy?” he asked out loud, a hint of giggle covering his voice as he pushed his boxers down with one hand, preserving his other one simply because he had other plans with it. “look at me, (name).”

you did as he was told, your head turning slowly until the sight of his red cock came into view. you sucked in a silent breath, feeling shy beyond imagination. that was… that was big, it looked big. that was the only word you knew to describe it—big, and probably unfitting for your small hole.

“nothing to be shy about,” hyunjin hummed as he caught your eyes. he raised a brow suggestively, his cum-filled fingers finally moving down to wrap themselves around his shaft. he spread the arousal all over himself, lubing it up as much as he could while groaning to himself. “it’s going to be in you anyway because i’m fucking you with it.”

fuck, just the smallest bit of your cum on his cock as enough to make him feel so euphoric. he could not imagine actually feeling your walls around him.

pumping himself a few more times to get himself wet, hyunjin finally moved down to get closer to your body. he eyed you carefully at first, his eyes trailing over your covered torso and wondering if he wanted to rip the clothes off your body.

agh! what a dilemma! being able to see you completely naked would be a blessing, truly. but oh, to fuck you when you were dressed in his hoodie, looking so small and so helpless, was a dream in of itself.

pouting slightly, he moved his hand over to the hem of the hoodie. however, instead of clutching it, he only slipped his hands underneath the fabric so he could roam his hands up your warm body. the end of the hoodie bucked up to your stomach, exposing your lower body and a part of your tummy before his hands finally met your bare breasts.

you exhaled when he cupped the rounds in his hand, massaging it eagerly and feeling the softness of your boobs. there was a lost look in his eyes, his head drowning in nothing but bubblegum lust upon being able to feel your body up physically. how long has he dreamt of this? many, many times. and just as his dreams were, your body was soft and small, completely catered towards his liking.

you were made for him; for him to squeeze, for him to fuck, for him to love. you were made for him, you were his.

hyunjin slowly leaned down to your face, his body coving yours entirely as one of his hand left your breast to his cock. he guided himself to your entrance, his tip rubbing along your slit for teasing purposes. the gasp you let out was amusing, because he could feel you subconsciously buck your hip up for more.

so shy yet so damn enthusiastic. ah, hell, he loves it so much, it’s unreal!

“feel that, baby doll?” he asked, pushing himself in slightly just for a taste.

“ye–yeah,” you nodded meekly.

“mmhm? do you want more? tell me you want more,” he urged then, lathering himself over your slit and poking through your hole once in a while. “say it out loud. tell me you want me to fuck you.”

the soreness in your neck burned with hesitation. hyunjin was approaching you with such sudden demands, demands that you were still too shy to fulfill. but you also really wanted to feel him inside of you despite the fear of the unknown.

he was literally at the entrance already. it would only take you a few beg to feel the heavenly bliss like the one he has given you before; the friction against your walls, the stretchy feeling of your hole, the impactful thrusts of his cock—mmm!

“please… plea–please fu…” you pursed your lips, cheeks red and hands covering your mouth until your voice was muffled. “please fuck me, hyunjin.”

“i can’t hear you with the sleeves covering your mouth,” he cooed demandingly, caressing your cheek until he impulsively gave it a light smack. he smiled at you, impatient about having to hold himself back when he was so close to tasting heaven.

“you’re going to have to speak the fuck up, baby doll.”

you trembled at the way his eyes growled. they have darkened with exasperation, desperate and yearning for more so he could satiate the lust-filled in his chest. you wouldn't dare to disobey him, but having to say such filthy words were also so demeaning, you weren't sure if you could proudly do it.

your silence burned his anger. hyunjin cracked under his desire quickly when he pushed himself slightly into you again. your walls engulfed his tip, and the warmth made him realize he has made a grave mistake. now all he could think about doing was to slam himself inside your cunt, fucking you raw and messy.

"fine," he growled under his breath, discarding your disobedience to the side as he slipped his hand out of your shirt and reached out to grab your arms.

he pinned your hands on top of your head, pinning one wrist over the other before his much larger hand tightly bounded them together with a death grip, pushing your wrists down on the couch surface.

"don't say anything then," he muttered, breathing down your neck. "i'll get you begging for more soon anyway."

the second his voice dropped, he spared no time to push himself inside you, stretching you out painfully.

your eyes snapped open, wide with tears as the burning sensation riddled your core. your arms moved, struggling against hyunjin's stronger grip miserably while your legs bent at the impact of his thick girth.

"ah–no! no, no! it hurts!"

you inhaled a choked gasp when he slowed down, seemingly snapping out of his trance from enjoying the way you felt far too much. the tears that once brimmed behind your eyes rolled down your cheeks, the pain subsiding very slowly as he had stopped pushing himself entirely.

hyunjin looked at you, his brows furrowed with concern. oh no, he was not hoping for this. he knew it would hurt you, considering this was your first time having sex, but he hadn't actually thought about what to do, neither did he expect you to cry from the stretch.

god, why did he have to be so sloppy and unprepared all the time? and he wanted to take care of you? what a damn joke.

"i'm sorry, i know it hurts but–i can stop if you want me to, baby," he whispered, running a hand through the side of your face and caressing your cheek to wipe away the tear stains.

you were quick to shake your head, glancing down at him with a soft smile. "no, it's okay, i can–you can keep going."

he stared at you as if giving you time to opt-out if you were to have any second thoughts. but you didn't. you were ready for this, and that was because it was hyunjin hovering above you and not somebody else.

if you were going to have sex, if you were going to lose your virginity, it has got to be him and nobody else.

your determined eyes were the cue he needed to keep going, not before he double-checked and made sure you knew you had ultimate control over whether this session would keep going or not.

hyunjin, very carefully this time, pushed himself further into your heat when you were ready. your walls clenched down on him, adding pressure to his cock and giving him a very tempting sensation. but he reminded himself to hold back for a while, to wait until it was easier to move before he would begin to devour you whole.

it was getting extra hard, though. your walls were pulling him to a stop with how tight you were.

"shh, shh, hey, i know, i know," he whispered in between the peppering of kisses on your face, his free hand rubbing your sides to calm your pained whimpers down as he pushed himself to the hilt.

"you are doing so great, baby doll. you feel so good around me, you're heavenly–mm, fuck!" he cursed, dipping his head to your neck when you suddenly clenched around him. he wasn't sure if that was a voluntary action or not. either way, you were driving damn crazy. "ugh–you make me want to fuck you so bad!"

you forced yourself to take in heavy breathes, letting the calmness flow through your body while you acknowledged the thick shaft stuffed between your private walls. you felt full, you could feel yourself wrapped up around him and you felt stuffed, in the best way possible.

"hyunjin, you can move," you said quietly, eyeing him. "just... not too quickly."

he laughed, fondly. he raked his hand through your hair, rubbing your scalp gently as he brushed the hair out of your face. his eyes were softer now, for a brief moment at least. you could see the lust vanishing to be replaced with warm affection.

"okay, baby," he said, watching you carefully as he pulled out before shoving himself back in, slow and sensual so you could adjust to him. "is this good for you, mm?"

you nodded, finding yourself enjoying the way his cock moved along your walls more and more. it was an unexplainable feeling. there was this punch to your gut every time his tip hit you deep inside, an electric feeling that rained over you each time.

it felt good, really good. and you wanted more, rapidly and hardly.

hyunjin repeated the slow movement, again and again, his sight blurring when he noticed the shift in your voice. your uncomfortable purrs were turning into moans, louder and more dragged out moans, so breathy and hot that he could feel the temptation in his dick burn.

he discreetly picked up his pace, unable to fully hold himself back from intensely ramming into your small body. he didn't want to hurt you again, but goddamn it, he needed to feel more of you, and to hear more, to see more.

much to his delight, the only response you gave him after he started to thrust at a more satisfying speed was to moan louder. his cock brushed against your walls, even if you were more comfortable now, your small hole was still sticking to his skin perfectly and building up the tension in his abdomen.

there was bliss attached to his name when it spilled from your mouth, making him feel over the moon to know that he's made you feel this way, making him snap his hips harder into your pussy to earn more noises out of you.

"ahh–hyunjin, hyunjin i'm–" you moved your arms, your fingers moving against each other above your head, unable to get out of his hold. pursing your lips then, feeling the releasing feeling in your abdomen again, you dipped your head to look at him and you whined, "it's that, again, the feeling–ahh."

and he could tell, he could just tell that you were nearing your second orgasm again when his name started to come in broken sounds. it made him want to coo; you inexperienced little thing, how quickly have you reached your maximum threshold for pleasure already?

he hasn't even let his desires free yet.

"you wanna cum, hmm?" he asked, knowing well that you do. "you gotta tell me baby, or else i can't help you with it."

you blushed, your hands wanting to move to your mouth out of instinct, but they were trapped under hyunjin's tough grip for the time being. the only thing you could do was as he asked of you to—tell him you wanted him to fuck you until you cum.

"i... i want–mm," you looked away for a brief moment, feeling embarrassed. "i want to cum... ple–please, hyunjin."

"see? that's wasn't so hard, was it, dolly?" he grinned, leaning down to your face to bit the side of your jaw out of impulse. when his lips dragged up to your ear, he whispered, "feel free to let go when you want to."

the next second overwhelmed you. he had pulled himself out until his tip almost left your sticky hole, leaving you with an empty feeling. but when he slammed himself in the next second, wordlessly and without any warning, he simply did not stop his advances. he continued with the same quick pace and the same strength, thrusting into you in hopes to chase your high and give you what you wanted.

you squealed at the newfound feeling of his tip reaching deeper and deeper within your cunt. your back arched into his chest, your limbs trembling at the force of his hips ramming into yours and your eyes rolling up upon the tension building up in your cunt.

"ah–fuck, fuck–oh my god!" you huffed out, feeling your release approaching until your toes curled and your voice gave out at the actual climax.

"there we go, dolly, good job," he muttered, planting kisses along your neck.

you breathed heavily, letting the stars fade away from your eyes and calming down for a moment. and when your consciousness finally returned to you, as did the soreness in your joints and your heat, your brows furrowed at the feeling of your hole still being stuffed full of his cock.

hyunjin was still going.

he buried his face at the crook of your neck, moans and grunts letting out of his lips as he rutted in and out of your heat like a dog, feeling the warmth of your essence and your walls all over him. you were still tight around him because of the previous orgasm, and he was taking his chance to feel as much friction as he could.

you laid on your back, your eyes facing up the ceiling as you felt the pleasurable feeling slowly build itself back up in your abdomen. you huffed, unsure if it was supposed to happen that way and slightly overwhelmed with the soreness in your cunt.

"hyunjin–"

"what?" he growled under his breath, continued to snap his hips against yours.

"i feel a little–huh, fuck!"

your body pulsated at the hit against your g-spot. it wasn't like any other thrusts, this one made you want to scream out loud, this one was like butterflies flapping in your stomach but magnify the feeling, this one made you want more even though you felt like you could barely take more thrusts in your used hole.

"ahh–fuck, hyunjin, what is–"

he kept hitting the spot, hard and quick, giving you one zap of pleasure after another. the euphoric sensation rushed over your head, your legs automatically moving up to his back so your walls clench down on him, narrowing his path for a better aim.

it felt good, it felt so good, you couldn’t think about anything else but to anticipate having the spot be repeatedly pounded into.

wanting to look up at you solely to catch the lewd look on your face when he hit your sweet spot, hyunjin found it impossible to remove himself from your rosy neck as he focused on the build-up of his own orgasm. it was approaching quicker and quicker, your walls knowing how to clench around him just fine.

his hand roamed your side, squeezing your breast and finally resting on your tummy. he sniffed your scent, his hand desperately pressing down on your stomach until he could feel his tip poke out from the inside. the bulge made his heart jump with a passionate burn, it made him groan in approval.

god, how was this possible. you were truly made for him—so small and so innocent. he was gonna tear you apart, he swore.

"jin–more, more, please–" you yearned, arching your back off as your eyes widened with lust. his had increased his speed even more, the hip-stuttering kind, making you see spots in whiteness as your mouth spilled the words you once deemed too embarrassing to say.

your legs pushed against his back, trying to bring him closer. you begged, desperately, for more and more. "please, fuck me, fuck me–ahh–"

you words were nothing short of arousing for him. who would have thought he would ever hear you say those things?

the moans you let out has got hyunjin cuming in no time, his cock twitching in your warm hole before his exasperated release, his cum spilling into your hole and filling you up.

"ahh, fuck!" he grunted loudly, his eyes shutting at the relieving feeling.

you felt the warmth coating your walls, your eyes widening in the realization that hyunjin came inside of you. the thought made you feel hot and dirty, so shy and bothered.

he kissed your collarbones, his lips dragging up to yours before he kissed you. you moaned into his mouth, feeling his hand move down from your tummy to your pussy. his finger pressed against your clit, rubbing it in circles to get you to your climax again.

he pushed into you, riding out his orgasm and helping you chase your third one tonight. you tried to move away from his mouth, wanting to moan freely, but hyunjin remained on top of your lips, finding it extremely alluring to eat away at your desperate noises.

your muffled noises got louder and louder as he became more aggressive, forcing himself inside you and pinching your sweet spot again and again. soon enough, you let out a silent scream upon feeling the knot in your abdomen burst, your essence rushing along your walls again to add more in your already full hole.

your entire body shut down then; your legs slipped down from hyunjin's back and your back falling on the couch. he watched you quietly, a manic gleam present in his eyes as his hand unconsciously gripped your nails-marked wrists tighter.

"dolly...? how are you doing, hmm?" he asked softly, not pulling out of you as he leaned his face down to hover over yours. your eyes found his slowly, and he couldn't find a trace of recognition in them. "aww, no way. have i messed you up?"

he could hear giggles in his head, a crazily satisfied giggle. this was the look, this was it! this was the face he has been dying to see on you! the dazed, lost, exhausted, completely fucked out look; mouth agape, lids trembling, chest heaving, and voice grumbling.

pretty, pretty, pretty! how pretty! you're absolutely broken and you look gorgeous! he wanted to do it again, he wanted to tear you apart again!

pulling out of you, he moved away from you and scooted down your torso. his hands clutched your ankles, bringing your legs up and causing the hoodie to slide down your thighs. spreading your feet apart, his eyes widened in anticipation upon seeing your dripping heat, the gooey whiteness slowly oozing out of your pretty, quivering hole.

looking up at you, he tentatively moved his fingers over your slit. you flinched immediately at his touch, a soft cry leaving your lips.

he raised a brow—very sensitive.

fun.

without further warning, he moved closer to you and pushed the hoodie further up your stomach. laid between your legs, hyunjin carefully inserted two fingers into your holes, gathering your cum in his hands and pumping in and out slowly.

your walls clenched at the sensation of being played with again. too sore, your cunt was too sore and your mind was too hazy to register the incoming pleasure that all you could think about was to stop it.

your legs quickly forcing themselves shut. but hyunjin has got one hand curled around your ankle, pushing you open to keep you accessible.

"it's okay, baby doll," he said gently, humming close to your heat. "you can take another one, you will take another one."

"huh!" you gasped out in pleasant surprise, your head perking up when you felt his lips smooch your heat. "jin–hyunjin–what are you doi–ahh!"

he hummed against your cunt, his tongue running a slow line up your slit before he kissed it, taking the cum into his mouth and spitting out the saliva mixed with it. his hand continued to rub your clit, stimulating you and causing tremors along your spine.

fuck, how delicious you taste. this was better than anything he could ever imagine—all the other people he's slept with, all the dreams he's consumed at night. they could never compare to this, having your cunt in front of him and his tongue catching every last drop of you.

not a single drip to waste. he has to have all of you in his system because everything about you belongs to him. your essence, your body, your mind, your heart—everything. you are his.

your moans were starting to get thick and airy, your senses blurring together into one. all you could think about was his tongue, fucking you rapidly with flicks and thrusts; his plump lips kissing your pussy, his teeth occasionally grazing your skin; hist thumb circling your clit, pressing and pinching you.

pleasure, there was only pleasure. so overwhelming that you could feel tiny, soft little pains present in your chest. too much but not nearly enough—you wanted more, the sweet poison, you wanted all of it.

"fuck! hyunjin, please, i wanna cum," you begged, tongue swiping across your dry lips and saliva gathering at the tip to drip down your chin. "hyunjin more, more, please! i wan–wanna cum!"

he smirked. such filthy things to say! you even cursed, and it was all for him! how endearing. he almost couldn't remember how you were like before he completely turned you into his sex-crazed doll.

ah, that innocent little girl you once were. how adorable, how foreign. if he could revert you to that, he would, just so he could corrupt you all over again.

"just cum, baby," he mumbled against your heat. "let me swallow all of you."

your body clenched at the pleasure, the overstimulation pushing you to the edge and shoving you down. your senses fell, rapidly, and you spilled yourself all over his face.

hyunjin kissed your hole up, flicking his tongue and gathering up all your juices into his mouth, cleaning you up with his mouth. your warm juices stained his tongue like fine wine, he gulped down down his throat with ease.

you were trembling during the process. even the smallest feeling of his lips near your core was enough to make you shiver. a moment of relief spread through your chest when you finally saw him stand up, leaving your half-naked body on the couch as he walked to the bathroom.

hyunjin headed out with a towel, wet with warm water. he sat by the edge of your head and gently held your body up, his eyes frowning when you winced at the movement.

he pulled you to his chest, letting you lean on him to rest. one hand going around your waist, his other hand reluctantly brushed at your leg. when you shrunk away, he flinched as well, but he was quick to bounce back to his senses to comfort you.

"hey, it's okay, i'm just going to clean you up, okay?" he informed softly, kissing your temple to distract you while he gripped the back of your thigh to pull your leg up.

his hand went down to your exposed cunt, the warm cloth in his hand turning before he slowly wiped you down, cleaning you up carefully. you laid there in his arm, breathing out quick pants and keeping down your sensitive flinches so he could take care of you easier.

"you did such a good job, baby," he whispered, continuing to pat you down. "you have no idea how well you took me. you did so well, and you made me feel so happy."

sweet, sweet words flooded your ears. you blushed at them, acting as if they were just your daily compliments and not about how great you have been, laying there and taking his cock like a stupid toy. either way, you were beyond delighted to know that you have made him feel good, as he did you.

"thank you for making me feel so good as well," you mumbled, bringing his hand up to kiss the back of his palm. "it wasn't as scary as everyone says it'd be. and i like it, it feels..." you hummed, "good. it feels good."

"i'm glad you liked it." hyunjin giggled. "may–maybe we can... do it again... some time."

that was a blind shot. even though he just had sex with you, he wanted to be sure where you two were.

"oh, sure, i'd... i'd like that...?" you laughed, feeling shy as you played with his fingers. "hmm, how are we gonna tell my parents about this..."

"about us having sex?” he asked incredulously, although not much opposing the idea. to have your parents know how he has ruined their little daughter’s mind and filled you up? god, he wondered how they would react knowing that their little girl loves him enough to let him do that.

"no! about you being my boyfriend, please!" you waved your hands at him, amused. "i mean... unless that didn't actually mean anything–"

"it did! it definitely did–oh god, yes!” he exclaimed, his hands fumbling suddenly as he dropped the cloth in his hand. his mind went into a frenzy, not quite sure what he could do except kissing you all over your face. “thank god!"

the smile on his face was dazzling to look at. you felt your heart pump excitedly upon his enthusiasm. seeing him so happy about being in an official relationship with you was surprisingly fulfilling and reliving, perhaps it was because you have spent so long thinking you didn't deserve him only to realize you have been wrong the whole time.

"oh, i love you so much," he muttered, hugging you close to his chest as he kissed your cheek, rocking you two from side to side.

you laughed. it was amusing to see him act all mushy like this. nobody outside would believe it if they see him now, all loving and clingy.

turning your head away from his incoming kiss attacks, your eyes caught sight of the window and the scenery outside.

oh, how peculiar. the thunder has stopped.

#stayverse #stayhavennet #inkidz #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids dark hours #skz dark hours #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut

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xomby · 3 years ago

Note

I am going to be predictable and ask you 003 for Yates, but also, just to spice things up - 003 for Jo as well <3

OK EHEHEHEE be prepared this might be super long.

yates-

how i feel about this character- yates is my everything. he’s so funny and so sad and so relatable i genuinely can’t put into words how much i care about him. i project onto him really hard he’s legitimately just ogh. oughg

romantic ships- really just benton tbh, i think they really have a great dynamic that’s a perfect mix of genuinely healthy and hilarious banter, earnest care for one another, and gut wrenching angst. one of my fav things about them is how much they say without actually saying anything. right from the get go (honestly forget which episode it’s in but one of yates’ first) he’s missing and unit doesn’t know where he is, and benton asks the brig and there’s such deep worry in his voice and eyes idk. i was sold from that point on. there’s many other moments i could talk about but yeah they’re so fucking good and a really interesting show of two characters who clearly care about each other but are not able to adequately express it in their work setting imo. also i have a theory that the tom yates is dating in PROSE happy endings is tommy from planet of the spiders just cause it seems like the truth to me and they’re ok but not like benton/yates.

fav nonromantic relationship- YATES AND JO. you know this. i’m so insane about them they have such a close loving friendship it’s so cute. they’re almost dating but he’s gay so they’re not dating it’s really real. they care about each other so much i’m obsessed with them. also such a small moment but when jo checks the time on yates’ wristwatch in the dæmons. it’s so cute they function as 1 entity sometimes

unpopular opinion- i don’t know if enough people care about yates for there to be popular/unpopular opinions about him tbh. that being said maybe that i absolutely see where he’s coming from with the operation golden age thing. like being not-fully-recovered from violently painful and traumatic brainwashing and being approached by a group claiming to be trying to save the environment, anyone would do what he did imo. also the fact that he was fully prepared to die, maybe even expecting it, maybe even wanting it, makes it really hard for me to understand how people see him as a heartless villain in that scenario. like nah bruh

something i wish had happened in canon- i guess maybe just more content. even when he played a major role in stories, he didn’t get much screentime, and his struggles were very infrequently focused on. i would have liked to see a bit more care put into the depth of his character (in an overt sense, cause it’s definitely there in subtext/implications/throwaway lines)

crossover ship- tbh i don’t do crossover ships, i just don’t get it

jo-

how i feel about this character- MY FUCKING GIRL. jo. jo. god. she’s genuinely my everything, and my second fav doctor who character closely after yates. it takes another kind of likability for an entire episode to basically come down to jo being such a loving and selfless person that her pure kindness destroys the sci-fi equivalent of the devil. she’s just so fucking good. also it’s hilarious how dumb she is but it still doesn’t dictate her character. yes she’s stupid, but that’s a trait that’s sometimes good, sometimes bad. she has other traits and skills that balance it out. she’s pretty much the world to me.

romantic ships- ok they never met but i’ve always loved the idea of jo and liz. i think their personalities really balance out perfectly, and they’d have a hilarious and adorable dynamic- jo being very forward and openly sweet and liz sort of being out of touch and closed off, trying not to let her feelings show. i also kind of like cliff and jo. i hated it initially cause her exit is so… 😕 like it is in character for her to marry a guy she just met but idk how i feel about her dropping everything and leaving all her friends for his scientific endeavors, it seems out of character. however, i think they’re funny together and i love the idea that everyone at unit hates cliff.

fav nonromantic relationships- YATES AND JO AGAIN!!!! but since i already talked about it it’s also worth mentioning jo and benton, who are just fucking adorable friends (especially in the three doctors, hugging and holding hands when they’re nervous, it’s so cute and silly). also jo and the doctor are the father daughter dynamic of a lifetime and the scene in time monster when they’re in jail and he tells her the story of how he started seeing the world in color has made me cry before.

unpopular opinion- again idk how many opinions i know. i think a popular hc is that she’s a lesbian which is so unreal to me she’s the most bisexual character of all time. BUT that’s a very little one that i don’t really have that strong feelings about. i guess people often think she’s sort of a typical damsel-type companion which is so far from true, she’s such a whole character with such a fleshed out personality with strengths, weaknesses, interests, and feelings. i will never understand the argument that jo is a weak character.

something i wish had happened in canon- honestly i thought she was a really well done character with great relationships with everyone she interacted with. i genuinely think the only thing that could really improve the viewing experience when it comes to jo is a couple more seasons tbh, although i completely get and respect manning not wanting to do the show anymore after delgado passed away

crossover ship- again. maybe i’m missing something but i don’t really get it

#IM SORRY THIS IS SO LONG I FUCKING LOVE THEM SM #god the brainrot #doctor who #ask #mike yates #jo grant

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itsallmightbitch · 5 years ago

Text

Stitches (Part One)

Villain!Might is annoyingly sexy. God damn. Part One of two, because once again, it was getting way, way too long. The real smut is in part two but this has it’s fair share of naughtiness. *once again the gif is not mine

Pairing: Villain!Might x Reader

Rating: Explicit (Dry humping and dirty talk)

Warnings: Blood, Bad Language

Word Count: 7633

Summary: It turns out that being injured on the job makes the biggest villain in Japan undeniably horny. If only he would quit being so handsy, maybe you could finish his goddamn stitches.

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You were only just getting used to having All Might stumble in to your apartment at all hours of the day or night.

Only. Just.

That didn’t mean you bloody enjoyed it though! Considering the amount of times it happened a week you should probably just give him a key- but there was little chance of him using it when he seemed so content in picking the lock anyway.

It was sort of like a power play. A ‘look how easily I can break in’ kind of thing.

In the beginning it had been an intimidation ploy and fuck, had it worked. You’d walked on eggshells for weeks until it slowly dawned on you that he was simply having a little fun on your behalf. Breaking in at all fucking hours to loudly watch TV and drink your goddamn milk like he owned the place.

Scaring the absolute bejesus out of you when you went for water in the middle of the night and he was sitting in the dark like an absolute creep.

He did that one a lot. Informed you that your reaction was absolutely priceless and he couldn’t help himself.

You’d threatened to overdose him on morphine when he was asleep.

Quid pro quo.

Now… his intrusions had become more of a semi-welcome occurrence slash inconvenience.

After much nagging and complaining on your part, when you felt confident that he had no real desire to murder you in your sleep of course, he’d stopped being such a prick when he came around and if you were honest, it was kind of nice.

It would be less nice if any heroes or the police caught wind of you harbouring Japan’s Number One Villain but that was a thought best left for when the time came. Your less than legal activities for the criminal class hadn’t been sussed out in the six years you’d been here and you doubted that any of them were planning on ratting out one of their few sources of medical attention any time soon.

Speaking of medical attention…

All Might was certainly not welcome when he was bleeding like a stuck pig all over your new hardwood floor.

He was framed in the low light of the hallway behind him, although he nearly blocked it out as he filled out the doorway with his wide shoulders. One large hand gripped the door jamb and the other crossed his chest, clenched over a wound you couldn’t see.

But you could see the blood pouring from it- seeping out between his fingers and soaking through the tattered remains of the shirt he’d been wearing.

His breathing was hard, eyes dark and guarded and the rain had flattened his hair to his head, making him look absolutely manic.

“Oh my God!” were your only words, fear suddenly coursing through you as you lunged from where you’d been sitting- only stopping inches from him and praying that he could make it to the couch by himself. There was no way you could carry that much weight alone and the thought of calling for reinforcements should he pass out was less than appealing.

The only people you really knew were criminals or your parents. You could see how that conversation would play out and it didn’t end well.

The hand he’d been using to stem the blood flow fell from his shoulder and red splattered in a line in front of your socked feet. You took a step back as he ducked under the doorway, effectively inviting himself in.

“What happened!?” you balked, moving out of his path and shutting the door behind him. A cursory glance told you that there was no-one else around, thankfully.

“Bad business,” he grunted, steadying himself on a dining chair- although the wood creaked worryingly under his thick fingers.

“Bad business,” you repeated incredulously, your voice tinged with mild exasperation at just how easily he could brush off an entrance like that with such a throwaway remark. He shot you a warning glance that you heeded. It was the most you’d probably get out of him so you didn’t attempt to pry further as he trudged tiredly towards the comfort of your couch.

For now, at least, you would leave it at that.

He sat down gingerly, learning from past experiences that throwing his weight around was likely to end with yet another broken bit of furniture and you calling him all the names under the sun. He didn’t look like he quite had the energy for your usual snarky banter.

“Good to know you’re as enlightening as ever,” you frowned, following behind him and flicking on another lamp as you went. You would need plenty of light for what was about to come next. He sank into the soft couch cushions with a sigh of relief that he probably wouldn’t have made if he wasn’t gushing blood from his shoulder.

“Shit,” you said, panicked suddenly at the sight of it coating almost every inch of his chest and arm. While you couldn’t see underneath his shoulder armour, you could guess that it was slick and red as well. His usually golden complexion was pale but besides that, there weren’t any other marks on him..

Sucking in a deep steadying breath, you pushed away the encroaching panic.

You were a medical professional, for fuck sake. Blood was basically a daily occurrence and the fact that it was suddenly pouring out of him of all people, shouldn’t make a difference.

Except it did and deep in your stomach, panic still flitted around and made you quiver uneasily.

“Let me see how bad it is,” you said, a tremor to your voice. But you made no room for an argument as serious mode was firmly engaged. Despite all he was to the rest of the world, you really didn’t want his stupid ass to die.

He nodded stoically, recognising that you were now in your professional frame of mind and that acting up would only make treating him more awkward. Though his dark gaze still fixed on your face as you gingerly tugged the ruined edges of his shirt aside.

You pulled in a hiss of air between your teeth initially, but the more you explored the less you wanted to freak out.

Despite the superficial shock from the sight of so much blood, your stomach settled it’s uncomfortable rolling as you gauged the seriousness of his injury. The gash was fairly deep but not enough to bare the bone of his clavicle- and you guessed that the amount of blood he was covered in was a result of adrenaline and disregard for the injury as he fought.

“How bad does it hurt? Do you need something for the pain?” you asked, not look at him and you tried to move his shoulder pad away gently. The thing weighed a tonne though and you had little success.

He scoffed, pushing you away with a stern look followed by a cocky sneer.

“Don’t be an idiot. I enjoy the pain,” he rumbled, staring you down as if daring you to disagree.

You did more than dare. He wasn’t big bad All Might when he was in your fucking domain and sometimes he needed reminding of that.

“Oh really?” you levelled a look at him. “So, doing this doesn’t hurt at all?”

Without warning, you poked his shoulder just to the left of his injury and he yowled, infuriated and pained at the same time. His whole body stiffened in agony and his yelping quickly morphed into a half growl, low and dangerous- like you’d awakened the dormant dragon from his slumber.

His eyes flashed and he bared his teeth in a snarl at you, a wounded animal trying to hide behind his bluster and bravado.

“You fucking bitch,” he snapped, hand covering the gash once more as though you were about to go in for a second attack.

Instead of cowering in fear like you had the first time he’d ever darkened your doorway, you simply rolled your eyes at his brutish behaviour. This arrogant showboating of his wasn’t new to you. Nor was he even remotely intimidating when he was clearly in pain.

Hell, he hadn’t even attempted to get up from the welcoming comfort of the couch and so you weren’t particularly concerned for your physical safety.

All Might- around you at least- was all bark and no bite. You clicked your tongue at him, as though admonishing him.

“Language you big jerk. Show your doctor a little respect.”

The look he shot you would have cowed a lesser man and had sent heroes in the opposite direction pissing themselves in fear.

You patted his cheek fondly instead.

“Don’t be a big baby,” you murmured, smirking as you wandered towards your kitchen in search of your supplies. “I’ll get you some bourbon. I still have that top-shelf shit you left here a few months ago.”

His bellyaching abruptly settled into an irritated grumbling when he realised that you hadn’t meant your run of the mill Advil and instead meant ‘booze’. He still said something under his breath as you went though, sullen and annoyed at his current predicament and determined to get the last word in as always.

You kind of sympathised? Maybe?

It wasn’t often that he came to you with a serious injury. Usually it was for shrapnel damage or the odd burn when he was less than careful around Endeavor- which again, wasn’t often. You’d never had to really worry about him before, even if he seemed determined to make you.

But it was fun to tease him now that the fear had abated and your mind was a little less on red alert.

You left him sitting there, your cat staring up at him with big curious eyes, while you headed towards the kitchen.

“You’ll give me sympathy, won’t you Marco?” he said, loudly enough for you to hear as you rounded the corner. You rolled your eyes.

After pulling the bottle from your cupboard and setting it aside, you rounded on an indiscriminate blank wall- the one that separated your kitchen and hallway. Eyeing it for a moment, you lightly rested the pads of your fingers in the centre. It felt warm from the thrumming mechanism underneath and a soft beep, followed by a click, informed you that it was now unlocked.

The panel compressed inwards by a quarter inch and you used your fingertips to slide it to one side, your face now illuminated by a soft blue light. God bless your satisfied customers, you smirked as you surveyed the medical equipment now on display.

You had everything from sterilised needles to IV bags, scalpels to a portable defibrillator.

It wasn’t as though you didn’t have all of this shit legally. But having a place to hide it made things easier when you wanted to pretend you were a normal, run of the mill citizen to your (very few) friends and family. They assumed, quite wrongly, that your medical career had been left behind in the army.

You gathered what you would need, including a damn strong needle that glinted in the low light when you settled on it. You’d need something tough to get through his skin and only then did you begin to wonder again about just what had managed to cut him so deeply.

It boggled your mind, the force that some of these people could fight with.

He was staring at you impatiently when you returned.

“You seem calmer,” he observed, sounding almost disappointed. “It’s almost as though you don’t care what happens to your favourite patient.”

You tutted.

“It’s almost as though you just enjoy making me panic.”

“I like to watch you panic, sweetheart. Brings out your eyes,” he chuckled darkly, catching his tongue between his teeth while his own eyes trailed over you. You ignored the sudden surge of heat to your cheeks because as usual, he was managing to make you blush.

Nothing new there.

While you’d been fucking about in the kitchen, he’d had the foresight to remove both his armoured shoulder pads and the remains of his shirt- despite his injury making it painful to do so.

You had an unobscured view of his chest now, blood painting it red and you were suddenly glad you’d invested in a throw for your couch because it was damn near everywhere had he clearly had no qualms about leaving bloody hand prints on it.

“You better not have pet Marco with blood all over your hands,” you warned him as you laid out your supplies on the side table neatly, glancing around until you found your cat lounging on his cat tree- no longer interested in your intruder. Since All Might didn’t have food to sneak him today, Marco wasn’t bothering him any more.

Fickle thing, you thought.

“The cat is fine. I’m the fucking injured party here,” All Might scoffed, apparently irritated that you were no longer fussing around him like you had been. Despite how he always complained and brushed off your worry, you knew he liked having someone fawn over him. Sometimes you played it up just to watch him melt for you.

Not tonight though.

“Oh hush,” you said, leaning in again to examine the wound.

It was angry and still oozing blood like it was the world’s worst slip’n’slide but from what you could see there was nothing in there you would have to dig out. It only really needed to be cleaned and then it would need at least twenty or so stitches but hey, at least he wasn’t dead.

The warmth of him under your palm confirmed your ‘not dead’ diagnosis. How the Hell did one man produce so much heat?

You hummed and debated with yourself for a moment because… well. Leaning over him like you were for twenty stitches would be rough on your back and from experience, you knew asking him to move from his current comfortable position would be met with a firm ‘fuck off’.

This was going to be torture for both of you- for different reasons. You’d never hear the end of it.

With no other way to reach him without being awkward about it, you straddled his thick thighs- grumbling all the way. His eyebrows rose as you climbed into his lap, settling your ass onto his knees before reaching for your things beside you.

You refused to look him in the eye though and absolutely would not think about how far apart your legs had to go to accommodate him.

All Might, despite the pain he was in, clearly hadn’t lost any major brain function. His hands came up and settled on your hips like they belonged there- blood staining your tee-shirt. They were heavy and warm, the sheer size of them covering both hips as his fingers splayed out across your back. He exhaled but said nothing about your sudden position, simply relaxing back to let you do your thing.

His usually slicked back hair was mussed and falling over his eyes but you could still see the shock of bright blue following your every movement with a sharp, ardent scrutiny.

Well.

That was intense.

“What!?” you snapped, annoyed at his incessant staring- and the effect it was having on you. His smirk broadened into a full blown, easy smile.

“Not quite how I imagined you sitting in my lap for the first time,” he rumbled, as though it was a perfectly normal thing to say. Like he was talking about the weather. Your body jolted, head swimming. You prayed he couldn’t read your face but you knew it was a futile hope.

Your expression and blush simply encouraged him more.

His thumbs swept a wide path over your waist while you desperately tried not to think about how big his fingers were. You swallowed hard, attempting to steady the shake in your hands as you wiped away blood.

“I’d always thought… well, hoped actually, that you’d sit on my face first, kitten,” he continued lightly.

Honestly, the fact that you didn’t pop a blood vessel right then and there was admirable.

“If you don’t quit that, I’m going to poke you with this big ass needle and it will hurt,” you managed to choke out, pressing a little harder than necessary as you cleaned his chest. He flinched, body tightening before sagging with relief when you removed your hand.

He heaved an irritable sigh but you weren’t exactly finished berating him.

“Symbol of Chaos my very fine ass,” you continued mockingly, embarrassment spilling out in the form of harsh words. He glared at you with icy, unreadable eyes. “You bleed all over my apartment, scare the shit out of me and then think it’s perfectly acceptable to make a joke about me riding you. You’re being such a dickhead.”

You said it like you meant it.

You already lived on edge half the time without having to worry about him as well. His lack of concern for his own well being was frustrating and you’d often find yourself scouring the news channels after a particularly vicious fight just to make sure he wasn’t dead or captured- seeing as he didn’t afford you the courtesy of a phone call.

Not that you’d ever expect him to.

“Are you finished, sweetheart?” he interrupted your train of thought, his fingers squeezing your hips almost painfully now. The mildly annoyed All Might was swiftly being replaced by the one who you would get into blazing arguments with. At least you knew how to handle this one…

“I think you’re getting too fucking comfortable with me, little bird. You think I’ve gone soft? Huh?” he lifted your chin with his thumb and forefinger, making you look at him while the other hand held you in place. “You and I both know I could snap that pretty little neck of yours with one hand if I wanted to,” he growled, his face suddenly inches from yours and you had the gall to mindlessly think that there was nothing soft about him.

You were a horny idiot with no self-preservation apparently.

He released your chin and rested the side of his hand on your shoulder, open palm angled towards your throat but not touching it.

A warning.

You’d definitely hit a nerve.

All the same though, some dumbass part of you refused to be intimidated in your own fucking home. You scowled up at him, pretending to be unimpressed rather than frightened. Blood thrummed in your ears, keeping pace with your rapid heartbeat.

Looking him in the eye was like was like staring down a fucking lion.

“Maybe I should. It would teach you a lesson.”

But you’d been doing this little song and dance with each other for months now and you’d perfected your ‘you don’t frighten me’ face long ago. It infuriated him, sure, but you had a sneaking suspicion that it also intrigued him.

He knew full well that he wasn’t the Symbol of Chaos when he was in your apartment. He was just… Toshinori.

Although he despised it when you called him that. Shouted and raged and screamed at you every time but let you continue doing it anyway. You didn’t know why he hated his own name so much nor why he relented so easily when you insisted on calling him by it but, it was always your trump card.

“Toshinori,” you said sharply and he nearly flinched. “Stop being such a drama queen.”

His anger withered right then and there into something else, and the beast reluctantly backed down as he seemed to come to his senses.

But once a villain…

“You going to stop being a bitch if I do?” he asked, cocking his head to one side. His brow was still furrowed, making his face look harsh but you could see his scowl lessen.

“No,” you muttered petulantly, mustering up all of your courage to do so. He hadn’t killed you yet, after all. He’d never even laid a hand on you- violently anyway. Light touches and slapping your ass didn’t count. You pushed his large hand from your shoulder and he let you, dropping it back to the couch below. “But I suppose I’ll save it for when you’re not bleeding out on my couch.”

“Gee, thanks.”

And he was back ladies and gentlemen! How to train your villain, in three steps or less.

You brushed off his sarcasm and leaned to one side, reaching for the needle and surgical thread. His hand came back up to your hip- finished with his tantrum. He supported your weight as you rummaged through the plastic container you’d set aside for him.

It took you no time to find a rhythm for your work as you both fell into easy silence- pinching the wound shut with one hand while the other deftly stitched him up. You had to shift a few times in his lap, holding a small flashlight between your teeth when the lamps on either side of the couch weren’t bright enough.

It was thankfully, a clean cut with no ragged edges to it and once again, you could only wonder how sharp the thing that made it was.

There was no indicator that he was in pain other than the occasional squeeze of his fingers but you didn’t bring it up or offer him any other pain medication. He seemed content with the occasional swig of bourbon.

Halfway there, you paused for a breather.

“You good?” you asked softly, noting that you were ten stitches down with eleven more to go. When you looked up, you saw his jaw tick at your concern but he answered you all the same.

“M’fine. Just get it over with,” he grunted, his breath fanning over the top of your head.

He sounded more impatient than pained now but honestly, that was just the norm for him. At least he seemed less woozy as blood started flowing around his body instead of out of it. He’d have another gnarly scar to add to his collection at the end of this but you were doing your best to minimise the damage.

“Almost done,” you said, patting his chest reassuringly. He said nothing but you felt a little of the tension in his thighs abate.

“Good,” he grumbled eventually, as petulant as ever. Your lips quirked in a half smile. He noticed the mood change. “So…” he said, clearing his throat when it became clear you weren’t going to say anything else. “What does the good doctor recommend this time? Plenty of rest and chicken soup?”

“You know, it’s like you read my mind,” you said, focusing hard on the last few stitches. You’d given him some of your best work despite the fact that your hands were shaking with adrenaline. Not to blow your own trumpet too much but you could see why he came back time and time again.

There wasn’t a back alley, hack job doctor in the city who could do work like you could- mostly thanks to your Quirk.

“But, you know, I can’t cook worth a damn so you’ll have to make do with leftover takeout, your highness,” you added, tongue caught between your teeth to hide your smile. He didn’t bother hiding his, grinning at you like the damn Cheshire Cat. “The bed rest is non-negotiable though. I don’t need you running rampant in Kamino and undoing all of my hard work.”

You had already decided that he would sleep here for a few days before you even considered letting him leave again and he could throw all the fucking tantrums he liked because you wouldn’t be budging an inch on it. You knew he would tear the damn stitches the second you let him out of your sight.

He didn’t whine though. Just said-

“Well, there’s always one way to keep me occupied,” he leered, eyes trailing over you and down to where you were seated over his crotch. You rolled your eyes. Even when he was clearly in agony, he was trying to get into your pants. “What do you think, sweetheart? Wanna sit on my cock?”

Um YES!?

“Um, no, you big fucking pervert,” you tutted, rolling your eyes inspite of what your body screamed at you. He chuckled, amused at how fast you’d said no.

“Shame. You’d like it,” he purred, his voice no longer tinged with pain.“I know I’d fucking love it.”

His tone was light, teasing and it did unspeakable things to you. You had to hand it to him. He’d always been surprisingly playful when it came to you- that first meeting notwithstanding.

If there was one word the media would ever use to describe the man who terrorised their cities day in and day out, playful would not be it. When he’d first stooped through your doorway and demanded your services, you hadn’t thought for a single second you’d ever make it out of there alive- let alone have him tease and flirt with you six months down the line.

He’d inserted himself into your life with the sort of ease that came naturally to a wicked, no good villain like himself. Then twisted your worldview until you suddenly couldn’t see what life would be like without him annoying you.

Sure, he made jokes and provocative comments and generally acted like a pervert when he wasn’t in need of medical assistance- but he also never pushed you and you felt a deep appreciation for the weird moral code that he stuck to.

He was a liar. A cheat. A murderer. An absolute fucking psychopath when he wanted to be. He took a tremendous amount of pleasure in causing pain- almost as much as you took in binge watching Netflix on a Saturday night.

But he’d reeled in indignation when it was suggested that he was interested in sexual deviancy.

He insisted that he liked his partners willing and able to participate and then had looked you up and down like he was actually going to eat you on the spot. You’d quickly changed the subject and then when he’d said his brief goodbye you’d changed your panties too because that look had soaked you through.

And he fucking knew it did.

You’d spent years patching up the worst people that this city had to offer. Which, in comparison to other places, was a disturbingly high number per capita. Like, off the bloody charts high. At the end of the day though, you could detach yourself from them. If the army had taught you one thing in your seven year deployment, it was how to stay detached.

Becoming emotionally involved with a man- especially one as universally hated and feared as he was- hadn’t been covered in the handbook.

It had hit you out of left field like a Detroit Smash to the fucking temple.

You had Vagabond- Ivy to her friends, to thank for the entire situation.

She had been the first villain you’d ever patched up. You’d found her, barely breathing and severely wounded, in the alley way behind your apartment complex. It had been a spur of the moment rescue and after you’d nursed her back to health, she’d been surprisingly sweet to you.

After a few successful meetings in which she didn’t murder or rob you and you didn’t shop her to the cops- she’d begun to recommend her ‘friends’, for lack of a better descriptor, to you when they needed something done.

Seeing the money they were offering had put to rest any guilt you might have felt about helping criminals.

All Might… had come to you on his own.

Ivy had never mentioned any affiliation with him and you’d never exactly advertised your services, so when your door had swung open and he’d marched in, you had all but pissed your pants in fear. So had the unfortunate Yakuza member that you had been prescribing muscle relaxers to at the time.

He’d certainly needed them as All Might had literally thrown him out into your hallway, face first and then demanded that you patch up the burn on his hand instead.

Ivy had listened to your tale the next day, wide eyed and mouth gaping as you’d described the most feared man in the world sitting patiently on your couch as you’d whipped up a special salve to combat the sting of Endeavor’s handiwork.

Despite his rude entrance, he’d been gruff yet polite as you talked him through caring for the burn when he was done. Then he’d thanked you for your time and left. Just like that. You’d never thought you would see him again.

Then he’d started to come around more often. Sometimes he wasn’t even injured and while he passed it off as needing a place to lay low for a day or two, you suspected that even a man as intimidating and powerful as him- needed a friendly face sometimes.

Or someone to ogle. Either or.

Now that you were done with his stitches, you wiped the wound clean with an antiseptic wipe but left the gauze on the coffee table. He needed a shower and clean clothes before you would even consider dressing it.

“Not that I’m telling you how to do your job, darling,” he queried, shifting underneath you but keeping you steady with his firm grip. “But don’t I at least get a band-aid?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, leaning back and away from the heat of his body because it was tampering with your ability to think straight.

You ‘tsked’ disapprovingly at his question, grabbing his chin and moving his face to one side to get a better look at him. He was deathly pale and looked exhausted. Yet he still had the energy to suggest that you have sex with him. Usually you wouldn’t have been so openly pissed at the blatant disregard he had for his own well being but he’d terrified you tonight and had brought all your silly feelings for him rushing back to the forefront of your mind.

“No,” you deadpanned. “You need to take a shower first and get into something clean.”

“I knew you were trying to get me naked. All you had to do was ask you know,” he teased softly, hands sliding up from your hips to your waist.

You grabbed his wrists to push them away but it was like pushing at steel and you narrowed your eyes at him. He made a low, vibrating noise in his chest- half laugh half admonishment for being disobedient.

“You can’t keep teasing me like this kitten,” he informed you, even though you had no idea you’d even been teasing him in the first place. “You make me so fucking hard, d’ya know that?” He tugged you closer without warning until you were plastered against him, almost face to face.

Your heart thundered in your chest and every nerve ending sparked to life under his hands.

His voice was laced with thick arousal. Apparently life threatening injuries made him horny.

Go figure.

“Is that right?” you said, staring up at him while your gut twisted into a million different shapes. He leered at you and then to emphasise his point, he rolled his hips upwards and pressed his erection between your legs.

Your breath hitched despite you trying not to make a sound. He grinned, wolfish and hungry- wanting to chase that sound out of you again.

“Yeah, s’right,” he muttered lowly, eyes flickering to your lips and then lower. He seemed to debate with himself for a moment before he ducked his face to your neck, laying a hot kiss over your pulse point. His mouth was warm and wet and his tongue was thick, trailing in a line along your jaw and back again- until he tugged your earlobe between his teeth and you bucked mindlessly, without even meaning to.

You felt him grin, then the sharp pinch of his canines as he nipped at your neck.

“Come on sweetheart,” his voice was laced with arousal. “Tell me what you want me to do to you. Or do I have to guess?”

Oh where did you even start?

“I- I want-,” you breathed hard, letting him grind you down against his cock. Your thighs shook, the pajama pants you’d worn for your quiet night in, doing nothing to get in the way of the thick shaft that pressed between the lips of your pussy. God, he was big. You’d guessed he would be but this was just ridiculous…

His hand slid along your back and covered your ass and pull you down harder- rubbing you over his cock in a steady rhythm.

Your gasp of pleasure made him grin wickedly and hum a pleased sound in his throat.

“That’s it, kitten,” he said encouragingly, like he was proud of you for being so pliable for him. So easily led into this sinful encounter. It’s not like you’d tried to push him away, was it? No. Because deep down, underneath all of your shaky morals you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you.

“You’ve always wanted me to fuck you, haven’t you? Always wanted to spread your legs for me? Don’t worry, I’ll make it so good for you,” he murmured, a promise you never thought you’d hear him make.

Gentle and All Might didn’t exactly go together and the thought of him making love to you, whispering sweet nothings in you ear was almost laughable.

…Almost.

It was also incredibly arousing.

“I didn’t think you were the gentle type,” you managed to say, excited by the prospect of having him inside you now. All other issues were pushed out of your mind at the mere thought of him fulfilling all of these promises he was making.

Abruptly, as if to make his point, he slowed the pace that he’d been rocking your hips at- taking on a more leisurely roll that saw him bucking upwards to meet you halfway.

“You don’t think I can be gentle with you?” he asked, hand coming up to cup your cheek and he must have been amused by your rabbit in headlights expression because he laughed. Was this really the same man who you would have blazing, heated arguments with? Who tore down whole city blocks just because he could?

“You really think I’m just a one trick pony? Oh baby, just wait until I get you into a bed. I’ll take my time with you. Fuck you long, and slow and hard until you can’t see straight. Until the fucking sun comes up.”

His words were punctuated by your pathetic whines of pleasure as he ground against you and at the thought of him, not just pounding you into the bed, but actually taking his time? Of seeing a side of him you’d never seen before, loving you slow in all the right places?

Well, you just about melted against him. Boneless would fail to describe how you felt.

How had you gone from stitching him up to dry humping him on your couch? You had no idea but you also knew that it was a long time coming. Him getting all sweet on you was just… speeding up the process. He was still keeping the pace languid and you had no problem with that, the intense build up of winding tension in your stomach twisting ever tighter.

You had soaked through your panties by now and the damp fabric was pressing against your clit with every upward stroke of his cock.

You wanted to kiss him but even now, as close as you both were, his height still put him at an awkward angle.

Vaguely, you remembered that you had goddamn hands.

You reached up and circled them around the back of his muscular neck and tugged softly to indicate what you wanted. He leered at you tauntingly for just a moment before remembering his promise and letting you pull him in.

He was, as you’d rightly guessed, an excellent kisser.

His lips were cool from the rain he’d walked through to get here, but his tongue was hot and as always, he gave you very little preamble before the main event. His tongue was at your lips almost instantly, testing your boundaries of which you apparently had fucking zero tonight.

All it took was a sharp nip to your bottom lip and you were letting him in, letting him take what he wanted from your mouth while you revelled in every second of it.

His groan was music to your ears, deep and almost needy as a palm pressed between your shoulder blades. You didn’t think you could physically get closer to him but you were wrong as he devoured you, your breasts pressing hard into his chest. You kept up with him as best you could but eventually you needed air and to your surprise, he let you pull away when you wanted to.

His eyes were dark and full of lust when you stared back at him, swallowing.

It was then that you finally caught sight of your own hands on him, blood coating them.

His blood.

Your body went cold. Shit! How had you gotten so distracted!?

Fuck. You longed desperately to throw all your inhibitions right out of the window because he was very, very good at this but that niggling voice that had been worried about him from the moment he arrived was suddenly getting too loud to ignore.

As much as you wanted to enjoy the attention and his lips on your throat, he was currently in no state to even think about anything remotely physical. Although… you could do most of the work… No! No, he needed to shower and eat and get some of that strength back.

You knew it and he knew it, despite his attempts to make you believe otherwise.

He made an irritated sound at you when you pulled away.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, amused by your sudden fussing of him as you checked over the fresh stitches. So much for keeping everything sanitary, you cringed. You’d been about ready to ride him into the couch not twenty seconds ago.

“Sorry, big guy but the buffet is closed. As much as it hurts me to say.” And oh, was it excruciating. “Now, get your ass to the shower,” you commanded, levelling a hard glare in his direction and ignoring the whine that your brain gave at the loss of contact.

Usually he would match your glare, not intimidated by some uppity little army doc who whored out her services to Kamino’s underbelly.

His words, the first time you met each other, not yours.

He was clearly more tired than he let on as he reluctantly relented, letting you climb off of his lap with no more arguments. You brushed yourself down, cheeks red all while attempting not to stare at the straining outline of his cock through his blood covered pants. You focused on his injury instead of the ache between your legs.

When you were satisfied the stitches would hold through some light movement, you held out a hand for him to take. He shot you an incredulous look but took it all the same, standing in one swift movement that told you it had been out of courtesy and not necessity. You hadn’t even had to pull.

“We aren’t finished here, I hope you know that,” he warned you and your body sang in response. Your face stayed serious though and you pulled your lip between your teeth. His eyes followed the motion and he dipped down for another kiss-

You really, really wanted to let him but instead, you shoved him as hard as you could towards the hallway and in the direction of the bathroom.

He growled, unimpressed at being denied so abruptly.

It was only seconds ago you’d been whining and hot under his hands and now you were shuffling awkwardly and forcing him in towards the shower. Talk about a cock tease.

“Leave your clothes out,” you said, before he could go. “I’ll wash them. You can’t go around in those bloody things like an animal.”

“You sure you don’t want to wash my back in there, kitten?” he was suddenly towering over you, crowding you with the bulk of his body and you felt heat creep up along your neck. You resisted the urge to say yes and follow him- although it was a battle hard won.

“Towels are in the cupboard and there should be pajama pants and a tee-shirt in your size in the bottom drawer,” you smiled sweetly, patting his stomach and ducking out from under his shadow. You cleared the room in an instant, leaving him in the entrance to the hallway and dancing out of reach of his very bad influence.

He gave you a long, very searching look.

“You had company over or something?” he asked bluntly, never one to beat around the bush.

“Not that’s it any of your business but no,” you replied, tonguing the inside of your cheek as you contemplated your answer. “I um… I bought you some stuff in case you decided to use me as a hotel again. It’s not a big deal.”

So what if you’d picked out a couple of shirts and some pajama pants in his size and colour? It wasn’t like you wanted him to move in or anything. You were being prepared. Which is the hill you’d chosen to die on and you weren’t budging from it.

He shot you a filthy grin, pleased with your answer and the redness in your face.

“Oh stop looking so happy with yourself and get out,” you huffed, flinging a cushion at him. He roared a laugh that shook your walls as he retreated down the hallway- appeased by your current level of affection for him.

A soft, ‘mrrp’, to your left caught your attention and your cat stared back at you.

“Don’t even start your lecture,” you answered, grumpily. “You like him too.”

Marco rubbed himself against the cat post, scratching his own chin on the rough material. He gave another quick meow of agreement before hopping down and wandering away and leaving you wondering what the hell you’d gotten yourself into.

TBC...

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

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

#all might #all might x reader #all smite #all smite x reader #bnha #smut #BNHAFF

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beautifulhigh · 4 years ago

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I am so happy that Callum got to tell Ben, and us, why he wants to be with Ben and how Ben’s love has changed him. I wish that Ben would have got a similar chance to elaborate why he loves Callum and what he gets out of their relationship. He forgave Callum really easily after Callum had leaked information about the Mitchells to the police. What do you think? It’s always interesting to read your well-thought-out meta.

I think it depends what you are wanting - do you want Ben to tell Callum? Or tell us? Because he’s already told us and I would argue that he’s already told Callum.

Telling Us

Ben is a man of action. He doesn’t do the ‘soppy speeches’, he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. But all the way through this developing relationship we have seen it, heard it. We heard him tell Phil that “for Callum he would [shoot him]”. We heard him tell his mum after Callum was found and rescued that he hadn’t been to see him in hospital due to his guilt over what happened. We saw how much it hurt him to break up with Callum the other Christmas, all the times he said that Cal was too good for him...

Until this.

Telling Callum

“I never really believed that we’d work out. I never let myself believe it. When I said that we wouldn’t work out it’s because you’re a good person. And I’m not... [I’m staying] Because you make me wanna be better.”

He (tried) to go legit for Callum, he supported him when Cal wanted to join the police, and he (Lexi) planned this massive proposal with a huge bunch of roses because that is what Callum means to him.

What I think

I think that we needed to see Ben falling in love with Callum, to see the little actions and moments and the ‘throwaway’ lines which showed that the Mitchell boy was getting in deep. When Callum asked why Ben was bothering with him we all got a “you know why” response. We got Ben being open and honest with Callum - “That’s why I like ya” - and all the quiet support in him coming out after the wedding that wasn’t, being a proud and out baby gay, the smiles and soft touches. The way that Callum came into the family and developing a relationship with Lexi...

We have seen Ben bring Callum in to his heart and family and it’s through this that we got to know how much Callum means to him. The moment when Ben (finally) tells Cal that he loves him isn’t news to either of them. I would wager that Callum knew long before it was actually verbalised that night in the flat so the words were just the proverbial icing.

Callum was enough for Ben to want to go legit and really try. Callum was enough for Ben to go up against his father. Callum was enough for Ben to work with Lexi to put together a whole ass experience to propose... hell, Callum was enough for Ben to actually want to propose. He sat in the pub with Jay and said, “I’m gonna marry that man” without a hint of hesitation. And the stupid-slightly-none-proposal in the kitchen about “sorting out the paperwork” didn’t seem to be a huge shock to Callum, not in the context of actually marrying him. There’s no way Callum would feel that way if he didn’t know how much Ben loved him and how important Cal was to him.

Callum gets the speeches. Callum stood in the pub, called himself a baby gay, and asked Ben out. Callum stood in the pub and told his father that he’s gay. Callum begged Ben to tell him what was going on because he loved him (and then had his heart broken). He would also beg Ben to tell him that he can handle anything because of that love, do anything for him. He had the speech where he begged Ben to stay with him. He had the speech in the kitchen where he would “still do [him] in a heartbeat” and the whole speech with his eyes closed.

Callum is words of affection, Ben is acts of service.

Ben is the one to make a move in the park because he knows that Callum won’t/can’t at that point. Ben is taking a beating from Stuart and preventing Whitney from telling everyone to stop Callum being outed. Ben is the one to talk to Cal post-wedding and hug him. Ben is the one to knock Callum back because he’s “had a skinful” and he knows it’s not the best thing. Ben is the one to let Callum control his coming out in the Vic, to shut his father down, to not press the issue or matter until Callum kisses him. Ben is the one to take on Phil, to push himself physically to his limit post-crash to find his boyfriend, to shy away because he still thinks that Callum deserves better. After his implants are turned on Ben just wants to hear his “boyfriend say he loves [him]” - because Ben not only knows he is loved but he also accepts that and welcomes that love. Past!Ben was not good with that.

Ben is the one to want Callum to move in. Ben is the one who is furious about Callum not being considered Lexi’s family. Ben is the one who starts talking about getting married (in a very practical way which is an act in itself). Ben is the one to plan a whole event around the proposal where Callum had the speech in the square.

I think Callum knows how much he means to Ben just as much as Ben knows how much he means to Callum. Callum tells Ben, Ben shows Callum.

Which is why when we do get speeches from Ben, when we get to see Callum doing things to look after Ben? It works for them. They both suck at it, they both mess it up in ways no one wants, but they try and they recognise that in the other.

#overthinking jen is overthinking #ballum #ben mitchell #callum highway #otp: that's why I like ya #Anonymous #Q&A time #eastenders

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aurorawest · 4 years ago

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Hi! I’d love for a directors commentary on the real Asgardians of the galaxy, any section you choose, it’s my favourite story! Also I was wondering if you could do a commentary on chapter 7 of you come to me wild and wired please? Thank you!

Of course, thank you for asking! I’m so glad you like The Real Asgardians! 😄 I went with this section from chapter 25. Loki, Thor, and Mira have stopped on the Market Planet (aka Promachos), a place entirely of my own invention. Promachos is a planet that’s one giant, sprawling market. The section that the three of them visit looks very much like a souk in my head—I was definitely imagining the Arab Souk in Jerusalem as I was writing it. But you know, think the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul, that sort of thing. Old, ancient feeling, labyrinthine covered market where it feels like you can get everything that’s ever existed.

In this conversation, Loki and Thor are having a nice conversation that turns sour, as they so often do.

“You know,” Thor said, the heavy-handed nonchalance in his voice sending up red flags, “that’s something New Asgard doesn’t have.”

“Children?” Loki said, playing dumb and immediately regretting it.

Not really a reference, but this line has always reminded me of the exchange in Jurassic Park between Grant and Satler: “What are those?” “Small versions of adults, honey.”

Thanos hadn’t discriminated. He’d slaughtered Asgard’s children as easily as he had the adults.

Womp womp. Seriously though, one of my favorite things to write with Loki is how he absolutely careens from one emotional end of the spectrum to the other. He makes this joke and he immediately jumps to the worst possible interpretation of it.

At least they’d managed to evacuate most of them, though Loki would never forgive himself for allowing a single Asgardian to die that day.

I recently had to put an exact number to how many children survived The Statesman. At this point I definitely was like, ‘eh, no idea!’

“No,” Thor said. “A school.”

“Mm.” Loki was getting increasingly worried that Mira was going to turn around and ask for the necklace. “What do they do, make repairs in the fishing nets because their fingers are smaller?”

This is one of my favorite jokes, actually. Loki is such an ass. There’s so much contempt packed into this sentence.

But more beyond that, his disdain for New Asgard is really important to his arc. We really see him lash out about it in this scene.

Thor glared at him. “No. They go to school. There just isn’t one in New Asgard.”

It couldn’t be overstated how uninterested Loki was in the education policies of New Asgard. Yes, his people lived there, but he had no personal stake or interest in the place. “Where do they go, then?”

Incidentally, I chose this scene because it seems kind of like a throwaway scene, like it’s more to express Loki’s distaste for New Asgard. And it is that...but it’s also got payoff down the line.

Uncertainty flickered over Thor’s face. “They go…I…er. I’m not exactly sure.” Loki didn’t push this issue. It was easy to imagine what had happened, anyway. The children would have been running wild in the months after the Snap. Brunnhilde, ruling New Asgard in all but name, would have gone to Thor, drunk, useless, drowning in depression and grief, and said something needed to be done, and he was the king, so what should they do? And Thor most likely would have slurred at her to figure it out. [...]

“I think they go to school in Tønsberg somewhere,” Thor finally said.

Thor kills me here. He’s pushing down every single bit of his regret and guilt. And Loki doesn’t get it at all. All he can do is snipe at Thor for screwing this up, for not taking charge, for not being the king that Loki thinks he should be. I’m actually enormously proud of “I think they go to school in Tønsberg somewhere,” because it says nothing...and also everything. Or at least, I hope it does.

Arching an eyebrow again, Loki said, “Oh. I see. So you’re raising humans.”

Loki gets none of this. All he can see is how much he doesn’t want to live on Earth, how much he doesn’t like New Asgard. He can’t fathom why the Asgardians would want to be there. It never occurs to him to stop and think about the fact that the Asgardians have been part of this community for six years. That they aren’t totally isolated from Norway or Earth. In Loki’s mind, New Asgard is like...kind of temporary? He can’t accept that it might be permanent.

“No,” Thor said, making a face as though this was the most stupid thing he’d heard in his whole life. “We’re not raising humans, I mean—not that I have a problem with humans, I love humans—”

Sometimes a little too much...but not in a creepy way, in a respectful way...

“As you’ve demonstrated,” Loki muttered, rolling his eyes. Not that he should talk.

Loki is consciously thinking of alt!Strange here, but of course...gosh he spent nine months living at the Sanctum and maybe he got close to one of its occupants...

“The point is,” Thor said, dropping all pretense of subtlety, “you’ve got some experience with it, and you should come back and—”

Thor takes a massive risk here and straight up asks Loki to come back to New Asgard. Not only that, but he’s asking Loki to come back to New Asgard and...open a school? This is the sort of thing that should thrill Loki. Thor is asking him to stick around! Thor is telling Loki that he wants him in New Asgard. And Loki...

Loki’s glare was poisonous enough that Thor took a step back. “No,” he hissed. “I will not.”

Loki doesn’t take kindly to it. Instead of seeing this moment for what it is, which is Thor reaching out to him, all Loki can see is this like, blaring red warning that he’s going to end up as something he Doesn’t Want To Be. And he doesn’t even really know what it is, right? He just hates what New Asgard symbolizes. He hates that he initiated Ragnarok, which necessitated New Asgard’s existence. He hates that New Asgard is so small, because of his own inability to protect his people from Thanos. He hates what Thor became in New Asgard. It’s really not even about New Asgard, it’s all of this other stuff.

Aaaaand chapter 7 of You Come to Me Wild and Wired!

So this was written for a @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt a couple weeks ago. The prompt was ‘broken windows.’ Their prompts are very very open ended, so I generally check them first thing on Friday morning and then let the day’s prompt rattle around in my brain until an idea occurs to me. With this one, I thought I could do something with the Oculus at the Sanctum being broken. I had also, a couple days before writing this, I had seen a reference to some sort of prompt for another ship about Stephen being angry, and I thought, you know what? It’s fun to write Stephen being angry. I should try that sometime! Broken Oculus means attack on the Sanctum, and I thought, what if Loki gets hurt in the course of that?

And to think, Loki was beginning to wonder if Strange ever got angry.

The idea of these fics is for them to be I think between 100-1000 words. This one was 1360, I believe, when I finished it? So I had to trim it down quite a bit (I eventually got it under 1100 but not quite down to 1000). The ‘And’ at the beginning of this sentence would have been an easy one to cut, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I just loved it too much.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

I love writing sweary Stephen. I love it so much.

Strange’s hands shake as he pulls Loki’s torn sweater from the wound. One of the wounds. The sweater is ruined. Shame. Loki’s always liked it. Even without the damage, the blood stains will never come out.

I also love writing Loki being more concerned with his wardrobe than his own physical wellbeing.

Loki feels woozy. Strange’s question strikes him as funny. “I was thinking I wouldn’t get hurt.”

This is clearly not the answer Strange is looking for.

Loki finds that funny, too. “I’ll tell you what I wasn’t thinking—I wasn’t thinking I’d ruin my favorite sweater. Do you see this color? Really brings out my eyes, don’t you think?”

See when you’re bleeding out, you can say things like this.

Strange’s jaw clenches. His eyebrows draw together and his eyes narrow. He picks up a bottle and doesn’t bother blotting whatever’s inside onto a cloth—he just sloshes it over the gash on Loki’s stomach.

When Loki yelps, Strange says, “Oh, shut up. That’s not going to kill you. Which is more than I can say for the horde of demons you faced—on your own.”

Gritting his teeth against the sting of alcohol, Loki says, “Yes, but they didn’t kill me.” The wooziness is probably due to blood loss. His sweater isn’t just stained—it’s soaked with crimson. That’s all his blood. The demons’ blood was black.

I’m not actually a big fan of hurt/comfort when Loki is the one who’s hurt. When I’m going to hurt Loki—and I do—I prefer to do it with psychological and emotional torment. Physical pain? Honestly, it’s not that fun for me to write. Here’s the thing with Loki: he doesn’t care. Physical pain doesn’t frighten or even really bother him. He’s completely blasé about it. And in order for it to be dangerous to him, it has to be so bad that he’s passed out. Where’s the fun in a passed out Loki?

In general, I far prefer to put Loki in the comfort role, because it seems like it’s such an unnatural fit for him, and that’s way more fun to write about. I like to make my characters uncomfortable, haha. The two people that Loki is closest to in my verse, Thor and Stephen, are also really not the kind of people that want to show physical weakness. And Loki isn’t nurturing (well, he can be, but it’s buried deep down inside him), so like, it’s way more fun to have Thor be hurt and have Loki needing to feed him or whatever.

And I’m straying from this fic but this is the director’s cut, haha.

Strange doesn’t respond. At all. His hands can barely hold the—what is that? Oh, a bandage. He’s trying to bandage the wound, but he drops it because of his hands’ violent tremor.

Stephen’s hands shake more when he’s emotional.

“You need to go to the hospital,” Strange says as he picks up the alcohol again. He sounds like he might kill Loki himself.

“I’d rather not.”

At these words, which Loki delivers in a perfectly affable tone,

This line just makes me laugh. Something about the word ‘affable.’ Loki’s so cheerful about his impending death.

Strange drops the bottle. It spills all over their shoes; splashes their pants. Loki’s legs sting as the alcohol soaks through his pants, so he knows he has open wounds there, too.

Trying to show, not tell.

Strange swears, a long string of profanity that penetrates Loki’s fog. He’s never heard Strange talk like this.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Odinson? Like seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Strange rakes a hand through his hair. Blood, Loki’s blood, smears his forehead. “You’re bleeding out. You’re gonna fucking die and you can’t swallow your goddamn motherfucking pride to let someone who can hold a fucking needle and thread stitch you up—”

The beauty of these little ficlets is I don’t have to come up with the whole long slowburn backstory or figure out too much about the characters’ arcs up until this point, but, I will say, I love to write a Stephen who has entirely come to terms with his disability and for him to actually be mad at Loki for not seeking treatment from someone who can actually help.

“This won’t kill me.” Loki considers. “Probably not, anyway. Though I don’t feel well.”

Strange looks like he’s going to scream.

Loki glances around. “Can you use superglue to close a wound? I’m sure I’ve heard Lang say that.”

It cracks me up to imagine Scott describing how like, one time at Baskin Robbins he cut himself on the soft serve machine or something, and he had to close it up with superglue. And that Loki feels this is an appropriate thing to say at this moment.

Strange stares, his eyes blue, then green, then this curious, almost colorless color. Colorless color. That doesn’t even make sense.

In my other fics I usually refer to this as ‘seaglass’ but I try not to be too repetitive.

Perhaps Strange is right. Perhaps Loki is in danger.

“Why would you do something so stupid?” Strange asks quietly. Loki expected more rage. Rage he can deal with. People are always angry at him.

Lol come on I wrote this fic, you didn’t think there wouldn’t be angst in it, did you?

It’s funny, actually. Loki has always taken pleasure in getting a rise out of people. It’s easy. People are predictable.

Strange has never been predictable.

So Loki tells the truth. No snark. No sarcasm. “The Oculus was broken,” he says. “Broken windows aren’t a good sign. I thought you might be in danger.”

Sometimes, Loki fears he has become predictable. Didn’t Thor tell him so, once? But he can tell this is the last thing Strange expected to hear.

“I wanted to help you,” Loki adds for good measure. He feels light-headed. He probably wouldn’t say these things otherwise. Maybe it’s good, maybe it’s bad. Maybe it’s time he said this to Strange, to Stephen, whom he cares very much for, even if he pretends otherwise. He likes making Stephen angry by being difficult, by being intractable, by being an arse. He likes trying to get a reaction. He feels like he’s standing outside Strange’s window, throwing stones, trying to break the glass of his impenetrable, unruffle-able coolness.

As I write these ficlets, I find that I tend to start with a literal interpretation, and along the way, I find my way to these metaphors. They usually help me tie the fic together, too, so that it’s not just a collection of sentences but actually has a itty bitty plot and arc. I’m particularly proud of this one, I’ll be honest.

But Strange is immune to Loki.

It’s a bit of an act. Alright, it’s entirely an act. Loki isn’t good at seeking attention unless it’s negative.

My cat is also like this tbh.

“Did think maybe I had it under control?” Stephen runs his shaking fingers through his hair again. There’s red in the gray at his temples.

“I thought maybe you didn’t,” Loki replies.

Stephen covers his eyes with a hand. Bloody fingerprints mark where his fingertips rested when he moves it.

I have a thing for my boys being covered in blood.

“Let me take you to the hospital.”

There’s something in Strange’s eyes. It looks like fear.

Strange’s hands shake more when he’s emotional.

Suddenly, Loki realizes Stephen has been putting on an act, too. He’s not cool and unruffled. He’s not immune to Loki.

Suddenly, Loki thinks Stephen might care more about him than he lets on.

Loki looks at his blood-soaked sweater. Considers how dizzy he feels. Ponders the fact that the shape of Stephen Strange’s lips is very attractive; the way his eyes change color with the light hypnotic.

Maybe it’s the blood loss. But he wouldn’t like to die without knowing how Stephen’s lips feel.

Aaaand there it is. So I’m a serious slow burn person, and that makes it hard for me to write these short little things. You’ll notice actually if you read them that there’s always all this unspoken backstory, like ‘they’d been working together for years...’ etc etc. But I always try to get that build even in these short little things, and if I can make myself go, AWWWWW then I’m happy.

“Alright,” Loki says. “I’ll go to the hospital.” He stands. There’s a rush in his ears. His legs feel like sodden paper.

Stole this line from myself. I have a nearly identical simile in one of my original novels.

They buckle.

But Stephen is there, holding him, an arm tight around Loki’s waist. His hands may tremble, but he radiates safety and steadiness.

Safety is hugely important to Loki. He couldn’t ever fall in love with someone who didn’t make him feel safe, even though he probably wouldn’t admit that out loud.

A portal blooms, Metro-General Hospital on the other side. Stephen tucks a piece of hair behind Loki’s ear. “The sweater does bring out your eyes, by the way.”

Obligatory callback to the beginning of the fic. When I had Loki note that the sweater brings out his eyes, I knew that I would have Stephen agree at the end of the fic.

“Aha, you think about my eyes,” Loki says. It’s getting hard to hold his head up. Stephen guides him through the portal. “That means you think they’re pretty.”

“I think they’re gorgeous,” Stephen says. He hesitates. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

‘Gorgeous’ is my preferred word for Stephen to use to describe Loki. Loki tends more towards ‘beautiful’ to describe Stephen.

He lowers Loki to a chair. “Now sit here while I get help.”

Loki grabs Stephen’s wrist and lets his head fall against the wall. He peers at Stephen through slitted eyes, knowing he’ll survive this, because he’s survived worse. He still says, “I would kiss you, but I want something to look forward to if I don’t die.”

Emotions pass over Stephen’s face like the play of shadows on the ground as clouds scud across the sun.

I love the word ‘scud’ but it’s definitely one of those ‘you only get to use this once in a fic’ type of words.

He swallows hard. “Yeah, well.” He squeezes Loki’s hand. “We’ll see how you feel after you’re patched up.”

Loki smiles and lets him go. He knows how he’ll feel. After all, he’s been throwing stones at the windows of Stephen’s heart.

He just never realized Stephen was throwing them back.

METAPHOR! The wonderful thing about finding the metaphor is that it’s a really easy way to end the fic. It’s the central theme, right, so you use the last line to tie into it, and done.

Thank you so so much for asking!

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

#Anonymous #froststrange #brodinsons #loki #thor #stephen strange #traotg

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docholligay · 4 years ago

Note

Fic Prompt: the first time someone kissed Winston on the forehead (Overwatch)

The patient was, to use the words of the board Winston had to stand in front of, “functional.”

Lena “Tracer” Oxton was expected to die of her injuries, and then didn’t. She was expected to spend the rest of her life catatonic, but she neglected to do that, as well. Four months out from her return from the stream of time itself, she was a bit quiet, a bit shaky, and there was little doubt that she would never be able to return to field work, but she was far more alive and far more engaged with the world than was ever expected of her.

These are the things Winston reported, along with his progress on some manner of equipment that would allow her to leave the containment unit. Dr. Zeigler--Winston had only recently gotten the slightest bit comfortable calling her Angela, no matter how she insisted--was in charge of the greater medical specifics, only some of which he understood. They presented every other week, and every other week, no matter what Winston said about his chronal device, no matter what Mercy said about Tracer’s improving tremor and complete seizure control, there was nothing but a frown and a question:

“When will she be able to tell us about the Slipstream?”

Winston had made a thousand excuses for why she couldn’t go before the board. She had bad days, sometimes, where she couldn’t do much more than lie on her little bed with her eyes closed. There was a large possibility that in trying to recount it, she could have a flashback so violent that it would steal her ability to speak again--did they not remember when she was told her father was dead? She may not remember anything at all, given how aggressively being slipped through time had attacked her nervous system.

He, of course, left out that Tracer had taken to cheerfully trying to decorate her little ‘bug jar’ with a bright duvet cover, and painting the little desk, asking to have some of her little tin airplanes sent with scraps of other decor from London, that she’d begged to have Winston ask if there was any chance at a window for her. He left out how she excitedly bounced and chose what to dress for the visit her family was allowed every few weeks, and that she chattered with them, full of life, the light in her eyes not even dimming when she tired, and leaned back against the pillows of her bed. He hadn’t lied, exactly, about her limitations, just made them rather more prominent than they seemed to be.

Winston was protecting her, was the truth of it.

It was a little stupid, he knew. Tracer greeted him brightly and talked to him all day because he was the only one nearby. She was kind and cheerful with Mercy, too, wasn’t she? She didn’t care to speak to Moira, but in fairness, Moira had suggested that letting her die and studying her body was far more valuable than expending the effort to rehabilitate her, so it was only natural there be some antipathy between them. It was silly to get too familiar simply because Tracer was a friendly person.

We’re friends, Win. ‘ope you don’t mind if I call you Win, us being such firm friends and all.”

She’d said that only last week, as they’d shared a fairly dismal Thanksgiving dinner brought over from the cafeteria. Friends. No one had, not really, ever declared themselves as such, and certainly not with a bright smile and an excited little rock of her body that he was learning meant she was quite happy. He tried not to let the threat of losing her get in the way of developing the chronal accelerator so she could leave. She had been so kind to him.

He walked into her bug jar, letting one door close behind him and the other open in front of him, preserving her time lock. She was sitting at her little desk, leg bouncing against the floor as she wrote a letter, but looked up quickly as Winston walked in, and smiled all the way into the corners of her eyes.

“Win! Afternoon, love!”

He set down a little plate in front of her, some small sandwiches and cookies that hadn’t looked too bad over in the cafeteria arranged as neatly as he could.

“Just some lunch.”

“Oh, thank you, love!” she jumped to her feet and headed over to the little electric kettle in the corner of the room, “Forgot what time it was altogether. You haven’t been in yet this morning!”

“No, I had a meeting.”

“When will she be able to tell us about the Slipstream?” It had been so impatient, the growl so evident.

She laughed. “And you sound like it was just lovely. A cup for you?”

He nodded. “That’d be great. Lena--”

“Yes?” She turned around, leaning against the tiny table she’d assembled to give herself the look of having a kitchen, more and more trying to make a tiny studio of what had only even been meant to something akin to a hospital room.

“The board...the one overseeing your...well, you--”

“Oh!” she jumped up and clapped, and then caught the edge of the chair, having made herself swoon a bit, but closed her eyes and took a deep breath, looking up and smiling again, “‘ave to be a bit more careful, but, Win, did they say I could ‘ave the window? Enrichment, right?”

He shook his head. “They didn’t say anything about the window.”

Her kettle went off and she poured two mugs, bringing over her little tin of tea bags and sugar. She gave one to Winston, then sat down on the bed and patted the space beside her. Winston stood there for a moment, thumb rubbing at the edge of the mug. He must have considered it too long, because she patted the bed again.

“Come ‘ave a sit. Something’s wrong.”

He worried for a moment about breaking her bed, but she didn’t seem inclined to take no for an answer, and she would ignore her lunch until he told her what was going on. That much he had learned, over the last weeks she had been coming into herself.

“What is it?” she looked up at him, and gently placed a hand on his knee.

Did she have any idea how strange and disarming it was, that she never flinched from him, no matter how he moved? That she touched him with as much gentleness and friendships as other human beings touched each other? Even people who respected him never looked at him like this, like they were simply having a chat and a cup of tea with a friend. She was such an unusual person, scatterbrained but bright as a penny, her sense sensitive but her will strong as iron. Winston loved her, he realized, very dearly.

“They want to talk to you.”

“Good! I’d like to have a chat with them, as well.” She took a sip of her tea. “I’d like a window, you see, even if there isn’t much to watch, and I think I’ve the right to have at least as often a call ‘ome as any enlisted, right? Not as if I’m giving away secrets or nothing, just would like to see me Nan more than once a month.”

Winston shook his head. “They want to know about the Slipstream.”

Tracer thought for a moment. “What about it? Not as if I’m ‘iding it somewhere.”

“What happened, where they can find it,” He took a drink, “How you managed to make it back.”

“Already told Ang everything I know. It’s in me medical records. Isn’t much.”

“I know. But they think...I’ll tell them you can’t, don’t worry about it.” He sat back and looked over at the grey steel wall Tracer had tried to cheer up with a few inelegant but colorful drawings, made with the colored pencils he’d brought to her. “I’ll just keep telling them the same thing.”

“Really on you, are they?” She didn’t wait for a response, but sat poker-straight and nodded. “I’ll do it. At their earliest convenience, no less. Ask me whatever they want, and I’ll answer with everything I don’t know till they’re satisfied.”

Winston shook his head. “They’ll interrogate you I think--they want to find it so badly--and then what if they….I mean, your health, they could throw you into...I don’t want you to get hurt.”

She shook her head and smiled, standing up in front of him. “And every time I got into the air might ‘ave been me last. I’m a fast-jet pilot, Win, risk is part of life, innit? Sides all that, Ang’ll be there. I go down a bit too, ‘ard, she’ll give me a bit of ‘elp. And you’ll be there,” she raised her mug, “Always an ‘elp to me, you are. Won’t let them keep bullying me friend, even if ‘e’s ‘appy enough to do it.”

There it was again. Friend. No prompting, no nothing, just her wide brown eyes sparkling, no sense of deception in them.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Can never truly repay you.”

She leaned forward, on her tiptoes, and kissed his forehead.

He’d never felt anything like it. Not from Dr. Harold, not from any of the techs or scientists who had raised them, not from anyone. It was such a casual bit of throwaway intimacy that Tracer seemed to already be moving on to the next issue at hand, picking up a ham sandwich from the try and inspecting it.

She’d forget this in the next few minutes. But Winston would remember it for the rest of his life, what it felt like to have a human being’s lips on his forehead, with no hesitation, her hand brushing back his hair, simultaneously so thoughtless and so loving, and loving because she put no effort or thought behind it. Because she simply did it and moved on to her ham sandwich.

He was glad he wasn’t built to cry, in that moment.

Tracer was his friend. He had a friend, and she was not afraid of him, and even if he built the best medical device in the world, she would leave this room but never him, not forever and not for real.

Because he had a friend.

#vaelntine's day prompts #amberlilly

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shereadsandwritesformelanin · 4 years ago

Text

The Baker And Her Actor: part Vii [Needy]

Paring: Chris Evans x Black! Fem reader

Summary: You meet Chris while making a house delivery for the Evans. He can’t get you off his mind and to be honest neither can you.

Wanings: profanity and sexual content, but overall fluff

Notes: I hope you guys enjoy! If you have any request be sure to send them my way! P.s thank you so much for all the support, I’m growing so fast I’m trying to keep up and pump out as much as I can! 😭🤩 Love and appreciate you all!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

[listen to the songs for this chapter/part!]

We get to see more of what our bby boy thinks this chapter!!

T/W: if you struggle with anxiety like me and Chris here is a hotline that actually works, it helps to talk to someone not go through it alone! :)

It had been five days since Chris had been gone for the Avengers Endgame press tour. It took a little adjusting for you to get use to his abscene, you’d never had a boyfriend who would be gone for more than nine hours for work. So it was definitely difficult for you.

Luckily Chris suggested you stay at his place with Haneli and watch dodger so you wouldn’t feel so far away from him.

You decided to call your boyfriend considering you hadn’t talked to him since yesterday afternoon mostly his fault because he hadn’t been responding.

Maybe he was just really slammed.

You pick up your phone dailing his number anxious with it ring that passes. “Hey, Goodmorning baby.” You greet through the phone

“Goodmorning.” Chris’s voice was usually hoarse in the morning but this was different almost bored and distant.

“Everything going okay, you’ve been kind of distant with me lately. Wasn’t sure if press was going okay.” You ask trying to discover what the problem dealt was.

“Yeah everything is fine, sorry I’ve just been jet lagged.” Chris explains.

It all made sense, of course he was tired and not just ignoring you for shits and giggles.

“I understand. Dodger is doing amazing you should see him with his sister.” You say switching the tone of the conversation.

“Bet he is.” Chris chuckles somberly.

“Maybe you should get more rest.” You suggests

“Yeah, I think I will. Call me tonight.” Chris speaks

“You can call me.’ You sass. “Catch up later, I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” Chris admits befor hanging up.

Truthfully Chris did really miss you. He missed your smile, your lips, your warmth and optimizium, which he could use right now.

These tours weren’t the highlight of his job as captain America. Same questions different interviews it was truly draining. He could tell you were trying but he just wasn’t in the mood and he didn’t want to take it out on you.

Chris’s Point Of View:

I walk off the set of yet another dull interview heading toward my dressing room to be picked up for my next bland interview with Jimmy Fallon.

I feel a light tap on my shoulder turning my head to face the direction the sensation had occurred from.

Scarlett.

“So you gonna tell me why you’ve been all sour faced today?” She teases eyebrow cocked waiting for my response.

“Just tired that’s all.”

“Just tired that’s all.’ She mimics “Cut the bullshit Evans I know you and I know when somethings bothering you.”

“It’s just.’ I sigh sucking in a deep breath “I’ve been seeing this woman and she’s amazing no complaints but it’s just she’s being a little clingy right now and my anxieties getting to me bad Scarlett.” I admit forehead resting in my fingertips

Scarlett places her hand on my back rubbing it sympathetically. “How is she being clingy?” She asks

I reach into my pocket pulling out my cellphone showing her the various missed calls from you and unanswered text messages.

“So your ignoring her?” Scarlett coments.

“Not ignoring I’m just exhausted and need a break.” I confess

“A break from her, or this.” She says motioning to all the cameras and lights that stood behind us.

She was right, I need to differentiate and fast.

“ I don’t know.” Was all I could muster up to say before walking away to my car that was outside.

God don’t do anything stupid Chris.

I walk into my hotel room kicking off my shoes and striking into a white tee and my boxers. I head towards the master bedroom slipping in between the sheets before dialing your number to facetime.

“Hey babe.” You say a huge smile plastered on your face. “Look whose here.” Panning to dodger who was on the bed napping as usual.

I can’t help but let a smirk surface on my face. I loved their relationship dodger was just so comfortable he might even love you more than he did his old man.

“Hey bubba!” I say watching dodger immediately perk up and get excited.

“He misses you, so do I.” Y/n states

“I miss you too.” I respond

“Do you.” She whispers almost so low I couldn’t hear her.

“What?” I question in disbelief that you thought that.

“Nothing, I shouldn’t have said that.” You retract

“No maybe you should have if that’s how you’re feeling.” I say practically scrolling you now.

The both of you always talked about never hiding your feelings from each other, always been expressive so things didn’t blow over.

“Chris, I only say this because you’ve been distant I mean I called you how many times this week and how many times did you answer!” Y/n went on.

“I’m busy y/n what did you expect.” I reasoned

“Yeah but you have time to tweet pictures of dodger and your cast. To big time for your girlfriend though.” Y/n snarled

That’s it.

“You know what i get this is difficult for you but it’s difficult for me too! Don’t you think I miss you? Because I do, I really fucking do!’ I thundered.

“Why are you yelling at me?” Y/n quips

“Don’t try and make me bad guy. All I’m saying is I do miss you, but I don’t I just don’t need someone who’s going to be clingy and consumed in my life.” I snap, immediately regretting the words that fell from my mouth.

The phone call went silent. Almost like the two of you were processing what Chris had just said.

“You don’t need someone who cares about you, right. Well enjoy finding someone who doesn’t give a shit about the real you and only wants you because you’re Chris Fucking Evans, Goodbye!” She roars

“Y/n!” I shout but it’s too late you already hung up.

“Damn it!” I shout chucking my phone across the room.

I was boiling. I wasn’t mad at you I hated myself for alllowing my anxiety to control me and say something so stupid like that.

I really fucked up.

Y/n’s Point Of View:

You slam my phone down on the night stand, slipping deeper into the covers bundling yourself and your tears up into the comforters.

You let all the tears of anger, fustration, and confusion soak the pillows. Your head stung with every word you replayed in your head.

Chris had never shouted at you, hell he hadn’t even raised his voice at you before. So him going completely psycho not only scared you but broke you.

One thing you know was that you didn’t want to be here any more and you didn’t want to be alone.

“Can I come over?” You sniffle into the phone.

“Yeah of course.”

You leash up the dogs slipping on your shoes and grabbing your bags heading out the door.

What am I doing.

You walk up to door and you didn’t even have to knock before the door came swinging open.

Deacon standing behind it.

“Hey.” you whisper voice sore from the yelling and crying you had just participated in. “Hope you don’t mind I brought extra guest.

“No I don’t mind at all.” Deacon speaks shooting you a small smile taking your bags.

Deacon wraps a warm blanket around you, making his way back to stove removing the kettle of boiling water.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asks pouring you a cup of tea

You sigh. “I just, I don’t understand what I did wrong. I mean was I too clingy or was I being a good girlfriend?”

All though it pained Deacon to see you with him, he was glad you were happy for the most part. But this, this made his blood boil.

From the moment you hired him Deacon had always been protective of you, so he definitely wanted to punch Chris straight in the mouth right about now.

“I don’t think you were being clingy, I think if he is gonna have a wonderful girlfriend like you he should know how to balance you and work.” Deacon speaks taking a sip of the tea he’d just prepared

You nod at his statement but instantly shoot back to that day.

That day you found Chris awake at 3 in the morning. Sitting on the kitchen floor, face dull of emotion. The day you had to cradle him and help sooth him. The day he told you he suffers from anxiety.

You knew that’s what was eating him up.

“I don’t want to be to harsh, he has a lot on his plate.” You speak making an excuse for him.

“Y/n.’ Deacon says taking your hand in his. “No matter what he’s going through he shouldn’t treat anyone like that, especially you.” He places his hand on your chin lifting it upwards kissing your temple.

“Goodnight.” His voice rings

“Goodnight.”

Deacon aburptly stops in his tracks turning back toward you. “Hey y/n, just make sure this is what you really want. It’s only going to get more real from here.”

You draw in a deep sigh palming yourself in the face.

Was he right?

It had been a solid fourty eight hours since you’ve spoken to Chris, mostly your fault because he’s definitely been reaching out. With every call you hit and send to voicemail, You’re just not ready.

“Everything good girl?” Kiara asks slipping next to you behind the counter.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You lie

“Okay, well I’m gonna go to the back and check on the chocolate chip cookies.” She says unconvinced that you were actually fine.

Same way you were faking to convince yourself if you are actually fine.

Nope you weren’t.

Snap out of it y/n you’ve got work.

“Next costumer—.” You stammer Chris now standing in front of you giving you those deep ocean eyes hidden underneath his infamous Boston baseball cap.

“I’ll take an original house donut with a side of conversation with my girlfriend please.” Chris speaks attempting to lighten the mood.

You walk over bagging his donut giving it a harsh squeeze before shoving it into the packaging. “Unfortunately we’re out of a side of conversation with your girlfriend.” You sass practically chucking the donut at Chris.

“Not that I was your girlfriend anymore anyways.” you mutter ringing him up.

“What?”

“What?’ Don’t remember what you said to me?” You scrowl

Chris did remember in fact he thought about it every minute. He thought about what he could have said and done better, it drove his anxiety through the roof having you upset with him.

“I’m sorry.”

You scoff. “Yeah.”

“Were you upset?” Chris asks head hung low, you could tell he was really apologetic.

You sigh. “Yes, very.’ You admit “To the point were I went to the last place I thought I’d ever be.”

Chris crosses his arms unsure of what you meant and where this place was. “Where would this place be?”

“Deacons house.” You whisper ashamed to have said that.

“So we have a fight and you run to another mans house?” Chris shouts

He was right. You shouldn’t have gone over there knowing deacons feelings for you and having respect for Chris. Yet and still your pride had gotten in the way and you wouldn’t admit you were wrong, it was his fault we were in this fight anyway.

Right?

“So I ask you about your day and car about you and you shut me out?” You reply getting even louder than he previously was.

You could tell he was holding back, having restraint with his tounge.

At this point the remanding costumers in the bakery were starting to get quiet listening in on the action. Low whispers began as Chris’s cover had been blown.

“I should go, not sure why I even came.” He spat storming out.

Watching him leave sent a familiar pang to your heart almost as strong as the night of your intial fight.

Your eyes swell with tears.

I need a break.

“Kiara!” You croak

She peers out from the back with a sympathetic look on her face, you assumed she’d been listening and heard everything. “It’s okay go I’ve got this.”

You nod thanking her before running off and breaking down, again.

The plan was when Chris got back you would return dodger. That never happened because you two were both very stubborn, but it was his dog so the least you could was return dodger.

“Come on bubba, lets go see daddy.” You say leashing dodger up packing him in your car

Gosh saying that didn’t even feel right.

The drive over to Chris’s you thought about the altercation.

You thought about what you said, what he said. And if it was really that big of a fight to hold a grudge.

Maybe you were a bit to harsh on him, maybe.

You pull into his drive way. Taking dodger out of the car, he gave you a spare key but it didn’t feel right to use it considering your current situation.

You ring the doorbell. Bringing back so many memories of when the two of you first laid eyes on one another.

There he was handsome as ever. You melted whenever you looked into those eyes.

Don’t be weak.

You sigh. “I thought I would bring dodger since you haven’t swung by.” You explain avoiding eye contact

The tension was thick.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” He speaks dryly

“Well I’ll get out of your hair.” You state turning on your heels walking toward your car.

You hear him sigh banging his fist against the door frame, stopping you in your tracks. “Y/n. I don’t want to fight.’ He breaths. “I’m sorry, I fucked up and it was never my intention to treat you like that. You don’t deserve that.”

You were stuck. You didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t.

You walk over to him cupping his face pulling him in crashing your lips onto his.

He’s a lucky man because typically you wouldn’t have done this, it usually would have ended the moment any man raised there voice above a whisper at you.

Your lips moved in a familiar sync. Chris brings you through the door frame shutting the door behind the two of you. He picks you up carrying you to the kitchen table never loosing hold of your lips.

“I’m.”

“Sorry.” You mutter through the messy kiss

“I know.” Chris says lifting your shirt off

“Let’s not fight.” You plead hands running through his hair.

He shoots you a small smile before returning his lips to yours.

“I love you.” Chris says pushing into your slick flods.

“I know.” You moan.

He stops causing you to sigh. You knew what he wanted.

Here I go.

“I love you too dummy.” You tease

“Mmhm.” Chris hums thrusting into you.

The two of you made sweet love all night, forgiving each other through each position. Ending the night with a long shower.

How did you go from not knowing who Chris Evans was to laying in his arms?

A/n: Whewwww this took some time to right. I wanted to make sure they made up because per the man of the hour (Chris says he doesn’t like to go to bed angry with a girlfriend) and whats a better way to make up?

Looks like the two are in love, so what’s next? 😏

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cuttoothed · 5 years ago

Note

‘Together forever’ with jonmartin?

I wrote a short post a few months ago about Martin and Jon both trying to propose to each other, to Daisy's amusement and Basira's annoyance. Never let it be said I'm above recycling my throwaway ideas into fic form!

Please note that Basira's advice is correct here, and Daisy is just being a troll, because she knows these idiots. Thanks for the prompt!

“So when are you going to make an honest man out of him?”

Martin spends a second choking around a mouthful of pasta, before looking at Daisy with an expression approaching alarm. He’s much too easy to fluster, honestly, she hardly has to try. After years of being mates, you’d think he’d be used to it.

“Sorry?”

“Jon. When are you finally going to marry him?”

“I don’t - what’s brought this on?”

Daisy shrugs and takes a bite of her sandwich, chewing it thoughtfully for a few moments.

“Dunno,” she lies, smoothly. “Just, you two’ve been together how long now?”

“Nearly four years.”

“Four years,” she nods. “And you’re both stupid for each other. Thought you’d’ve taken the plunge by now.”

“I - I��ve never really thought about it,” Martin lies, badly. “I mean, the whole marriage thing, it’s a bit of a scam, isn’t it?”

“The whole wedding thing is a scam, if you let it be. Marriage has benefits - tax, health stuff. Plus you want to marry him.”

“No I - ” Martin drops the pretense and sighs. “I mean, I suppose it might be nice, but I’m really not bothered. And I know Jon isn’t interested in that sort of thing.”

“How d’you know that?”

“Well, at your wedding he wouldn’t shut up about how it’s an outdated institution, and he couldn’t understand what logical reason anyone would have to want to do it.”

“Yeah, that definitely doesn’t sound like Jon trying to convince himself.” Daisy rolls her eyes and takes another bite of her sandwich. Martin looks somewhere between thoughtful and terrified.

“So...should I talk to him about it?”

“Nah,” Daisy wrinkles her nose. “I’d just propose to him. It’s more romantic.”

“Really?! But - but aren’t you supposed to discuss it first? What if he says no?”

“I mean if he says no, then no loss, you just carry on as before, right? You got any special occasions coming up soon?”

“Well, I mean our anniversary is in a few weeks. We’re not doing anything big, just going for dinner.”

“Perfect,” says Daisy, nodding sagely. “Do it then.”

A giddy smile spreads across Martin’s face, and Daisy smiles inwardly. She does enjoy these lunches.

“All right,” says Jon. “Here’s the latest draft.”

“Sixth draft,” Basira notes, sipping her gin and tonic. Jon takes a deep breath.

“Martin,” he begins in declamatory style. “Over the past decade, my opinions of what is important and what is trivial have shifted drastically. You have shared in the experiences, good and bad, that have shaped those changes, and you understand the solemnity with which I say that the people I care for are the most important thing in my life. You are the person I care for most, and while I know that the idea of two people being together forever is trite - not to mention impossible - I want to come as close to that ideal as possible with you. I want our lives to be irrevocably entwined, and I want to be able to say that officially, legally, I belong to you and you to me. Will you marry me?”

He pauses and gives Basira a hopeful look. She casts about for something to say.

“Well…it’s a bit shorter?”

“Right. You’re saying it still needs work.”

“It’s - there’s nothing wrong with what you’re saying, Jon. It’s just - do you really need to make a speech at him?”

“It’s important to - to put it in context. To explain why I’m asking him. So he knows how much it means. How much he means.”

“Okay, it’s just that right now it sort of sounds like you’re trying to convince him to say yes, and...that’s not the point of a proposal. Not these days. I’ve told you already, you need to talk to Martin about this in advance. The proposal can be a surprise, but the fact that you want to marry him shouldn’t be.”

“I - I know, I should…”

“But you’re not going to, right?”

Jon squirms uncomfortably, looking down at his drink. Basira sighs. If this man ever learns to have a real, honest conversation without having it dragged out of him, she’ll eat her left shoe. He’s just lucky that Martin’s crazy for him, and that Basira has Daisy on the case. She decides to take pity on him and change the subject.

“Did I tell you I heard from Melanie last week? She’s backpacking in Ecuador.”

“So how was your lunch with Martin?”

“Good,” says Daisy, scooting up on the sofa to make space. “That place does really nice sandwiches.”

Basira sets down two mugs of tea and then plops down beside her wife, reaching for the chocolate digestives on the table.

“I meant more on the...detective side of things?” she nudges. Daisy gives a wolfish grin, which Basira knows means trouble.

“Well he definitely wants to marry Jon, no worries there. Actually he’s going to propose.”

“Daisy…”

“On their anniversary.”

“Daisy!” Basira gasps, tapping her hand disbelievingly against Daisy’s shoulder. “I told you to find out if Martin would say yes when Jon proposes, not - not set up a rival proposal! You know Jon’s planning to ask on their anniversary. I’ve been helping him with his proposal for two bloody months now.”

Daisy shrugs, and crunches into a biscuit.

“It’s funnier this way,” she says through a mouthful of crumbs. “If that pair of idiots can’t decide to get married without our help, they’ll take what they’re given. Besides, ‘s not like either of them’ll say no. Just a matter of who gets it out first.”

Basira stares at her for a few seconds. She’s always known Daisy is devious, but this is absolutely underhanded and devilish.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more attracted to you,” she says, and Daisy grins again.

“Think we can get a table at the same restaurant that night?”

In the end they don’t see the proposals in person, because Daisy classes it too obvious, poor surveillance technique. She does pay a waiter to film the whole thing on his phone, however, and though a little jumpy, the footage clearly shows the events.

They see Jon muttering under his breath as they finish dinner, clearly rehearsing. Martin patting his jacket pocket repeatedly. A bottle of champagne being popped, and then Jon sliding out of his chair to one knee as Martin fumbles out the ring box and extends it across the table. The two of them staring at each other in bewilderment for several long moments. Then both of them in their feet and talking at once, though the words can’t be heard, flustered and gesturing.

In the end the two of them come together, embracing, Martin laughing and Daisy swears that Jon is crying. They actually get a round of applause from the other diners, which Basira scoffs at.

“We didn’t make such a big deal out of getting married.”

“We’re not idiots,” Daisy reminds her, and kisses her temple.

“Do you think they’ll be annoyed when they figure it out?”

Daisy snorts.

“I’m expecting special thanks at the wedding.”

#the magnus archives #tma #my fic #writing prompts #jonmartin #dasira

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 5 years ago

Text

An Explanation of Why Louis and Violet are Both Terrific Love Interests [2/5]

+Why both romantic routes are not only amazing but better than other games I’ve personally played in the past.

+Why some people are idiots and get off on picking stupid fights.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Romantic Option #2: Warren Graham

Uhm.... Warren’s a person in this story, too.

He, uh, he’s really nerdy. He does some science shit. He has a huge crush on Max which is made very obvious by the everything about him. Uh..... he took a fist to the face and got a black eye because he was helping Max, uhm.... he took a picture that was pretty important to the plot... um....

I literally can’t remember anything else about him.

I couldn’t even remember his last name. I had to look up his wiki to remember anything about him.

That’s how forgettable he is.

Hell, fans of the game took his character and made him more interesting in fanart and fanfics than he ever was in the game! I remember more about THAT version of him than I do about the him in the canon of the game!

I gave you that whole bit about Chloe from memory. That’s how much more fleshed out and important she is within the game than Warren is. Everything I’m about to talk about here if from reading his wiki and remembering things that way.

We meet Warren and find out that he’s into nerdy shit like Max. He’s also obviously into her and does a shit job at hiding that fact, but then Nathan comes over and beats the shit out of him because plot.

When I first played, it was pretty obvious that Warren would be romanceable, and truth be told, I liked Warren. He was fine! He’s dorky and weird, but I thought he and Max could potentially be a cute couple, and so does the rest of the school since you can’t talk to any of the girls without them implying that Warren likes Max.

I kept waiting for Warren to be important, but it never really came! I mean, you could talk to him and help him with a science experiment [in which he fucking blows up] and you text him a lot. Oh, and you can go to a Planet of the Apes marathon with him which you never actually get to go to, but the game constantly reminds you that you’re going because Warren won’t shut up about it.

Let’s see, he also sends you instructions on how to build a bomb so that you can break into the principal’s office, and then he beats Nathan up, and then he shows up and takes a picture of him and Max that ends up being important in the final episode and then.... he doesn’t do much else.

Well, okay, he does talk about Max’s powers a little bit in ep5 and you can give him a smooch or hug him or disregard him completely.

And that’s about it.

........Wait a minute.

A boy with boyband hair who has extensive chemistry knowledge, knows how to make bombs, uses said bombs for pranks, gets fucked up by one of the antagonists AND was a throwaway character that the writers threw in there to further the plot along but doesn’t really do much so the fandom took him and made him better than the game ever gave him credit for...?

.....Welp, that’s a whole thing that I’m not gonna get into. One post at a time, folks.

ANYWAY

Back on topic, Warren’s a romanceable character, apparently. You can agree to go on a date with him and smooch him. You can tell people you think he’s cute. It’s fine.

With all that about these two choices in mind, compare Warren to Chloe.

There is no comparison because Warren’s “romance route” is... is nothing! It’s a whole lot of little things that don’t amount to much! With Chloe, Max has all this chemistry and you spend 90% of the game with her! You forget that Warren exists until you get another text from him or another character brings him up!

You know what Warren feels like? He feels like a character that the writers threw in because they were worried that players wouldn’t want a tragic wlw love story between two best friends, who reconnect and fall in love over the course of five episodes.

Which, fair, because people are idiots.

Could they have made Warren more important? Sure, but like with Skybound and Telltale, they didn’t have an unlimited budget to pack everything they wanted into the game to make it better, and that’s not just limited to the relationships, that’s clear in the endings we got. And I’m sure that some Warren stans will read this and retaliate and tell me that he’s just as important than Chloe, I just don’t understand because I’m a shithead.

And maybe that’s true, but look me in the eye and tell me that if you took Warren out of the game, it would have drastically changed the story beyond repair.

Now, what does all this mean?

Compare Chloe and Warren to Louis and Violet as far as love interests go and how they were handled.

In TWDG, Louis and Violet are fairly even.

In LIS, Chloe and Warren aren’t even in the same universe. It doesn’t matter if you like Warren more, or if you like Chloe more, Chloe got more time and effort put into her story and romance than Warren did.

Think of it like this: Chloe is at a 90% and Warren 10%. Louis is at 48% and Violet’s at 52%, and that’s depending on how you look at it.

If TWDG did the routes like this, then Violet would’ve been way more important, would’ve have ten times as many scenes with Clementine, and if you took her out of the story, the whole thing falls apart because she’d be 90% of the plot, while Louis over here would’ve been used as background noise and plot convenience once or twice. Sure, we would’ve gotten to know him a little bit, but not nearly anything substantial and not nearly as much in comparison.

That’s what we could’ve had, okay? The writers could’ve given us a single love interest and said: “We want you to pick this person... but we’ll also throw in this other person just in case y’all are homophobic/racist/fucking stupid/whatever.”

In conclusion: We were blessed with Louis and Violet who each got an arc and love story, both of which are fairly even.

Have I made my point yet? No? You need more examples? Fine. I’ll give you another alternative to what we could’ve had, or rather, what we could’ve missed out on.

[Note: I want to add that I haven’t played Life is Strange 2, but I know that its playable character is also bisexual and can choose between a boy and a girl to romance, but I can’t comment on how well it did because I’ve yet to play it.]

[persona 4 and the relationships you can’t have]

This one time I tried to romance my partner but he was too busy trying to convince everyone that he’s straight to even notice.

Persona 4 is a game that came out in 2008, then re-released with new content in 2012 under the name Persona 4: Golden. The game follows your nameable protagonist who has just moved in with their uncle and cousin. During his year-long stay, he becomes involved in investigating mysterious murders while harnessing the power of summoning Persona.

Great game, one that took over my life for about a year. Great characters, great voice acting, great story, great antagonists, and great romance and romanceable characters.

While the romance is more of a side thing depending on if you decide to take that route with one of your social links, it’s still nice to have special moments with them to break away from all the TV murder and whatnot.

And you have several great options to choose from! You’ve got Chie, Yukiko, Rise, Naoto, and then you’ve got several other girls around the school that you can start a thing with, but they’re not as important as those core four.

Each of the girls has an incredibly well-written story and share a deep bond with you, the protagonist. So, the reason I’m putting this example here is that the choice between all these great girls is super hard, right?

Wrong.

Because when I played the damn game, I didn’t romance any of them. Not because I didn’t like them or because I didn’t want my character to have a romance, but because the asshole I WANTED to romance wasn’t an option.

Because I’m not allowed to romance the dudes.

And that includes this dude.

Yosuke Hanamura

Remember that pin I mentioned about how great it is that Clementine’s bi because not only does it give us well-deserved representation but also allows the player to romance both girls and boys?

The Protagonist of Persona 4 is not bisexual.

I can only romance the girls because he is straight.

But not really, because MY Protagonist pursued and sought after Yosuke despite the fact that the game would not let me romance him. Which is bullshit, because he clearly feels the same way, and no, that’s not my crazy brain making shit up.

My entire playthrough was pretty much

I won’t get into it because Persona is a long game and a complicated one to even try and explain to someone who hasn’t played it so that’s another rant for another day, but know this:

Yosuke was the perfect opportunity to tell the story of a boy dealing with internal homophobia, falling in love with his best friend [PARTNER] after the girl he cared about died horrifically and faced his shadow learned to accept himself and his insecurities. The potential here was wasted.

There are a shit ton more layers to that, but on the barest of bare-bones, that’s what I wanted.

Hell, according to a bunch of people, Yosuke was going to be a romantic option, but they scrapped it! Insult to injury, I’ll say!

Comparing this to TWDG, you could argue that Clementine only gets to romance Louis and Violet, but some wanted to romance Mitch, Aasim, Brody, ect.

Fair enough, but what I’m saying is this:

It sucked that I couldn’t romance the person I wanted to when I played Persona, and it still sucks every time I play a game and my person of desire is unattainable. This isn’t just Persona, that’s just the first game that comes to mind when I think about characters I always wanted a romance, but that includes all the other missed opportunities from other games, as well.

The Final Season is different.

The writers of TFS could’ve said, “Oh you want to romance Louis/Violet? Oh no, sorry, we were gonna do it but we changed our minds! But, don’t worry, we’ll leave hint after hint that they have feelings for you but you can’t actively pursue them. Allow us to tease you with the wonderful romance that could’ve been! Midnight piano lessons! Conversations under the stars! Lots of smooches! You’ll never see it in canon!”

Or, they could’ve only given us one of them, but that’s the topic of the next game.

In conclusion: They didn’t have to give us Louis and Violet or make them romanceable. If you want Clementine to have a relationship with them, you have the option to do that, which is something you can’t say with other games.

Continued in Part 3

#twdg louis #louis twdg #twdg violet #violet twdg #twdg clouis #clouis #twdg violentine #violentine #twdg clementine #clementine twdg

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