#but she's pretty stable otherwise
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
I am at my wits end with my job I swear to fucking Arceus
#My manager's reviews of my recent calls have put me in the fucking tank in terms of my metrics#And some of the problems highlighted ARE shit I need to fix#And some of the more glaring issues are “Well what else do I fucking do here???”#All my metrics are pretty much trashed and I hope that I can get them back to stable this month#Otherwise I may be out of a job and that is not a possibility rn#I am literally the breadwinner rn and my savings cannot float us forever#Oh and btw the only reason I know there's an issue is the metrics she's been sending to the team and my checking on them#Not once had she reached out to ask what's going on or to see where we can fix this#Which I'm an adult so I'll be going to her to schedule a meeting about this#But considering she's come to me first about this in the past... I'm just not very optimistic#ramblings about nothing/everything
1 note
·
View note
Note
I love bombshell reader. Would she ever get jealous?
Your eye is most definitely twitching. The pull and cinch of your lashes and the delicate skin of your eyelid distracts you mildly from the sight in front of you, but not for long.
You rub at your eye with a perfectly filed nail, smudging intricate makeup all over the place. You remember your mascara only after you've mussed it and groan in annoyance. "Fucking fuck," you murmur, slipping a hand into your jacket pocket.
"You okay?" Emily asks.
Using your phone screen as a substandard mirror, you clean up the smudge you'd made of your make up with your pinky finger carefully. "I'm great," you say breezily.
"You sure? You sound stressed."
"She's jealous," Morgan says. Smugness lines his face and the otherwise handsome set of his mouth.
You roll your eyes at him, to his bemusement, and sit back in your cold, leather-backed chair. "Sure, Morgan, I'm very jealous. Of what?"
"Of our baby boy's new friend, obviously," he says.
You don't give him the satisfaction of looking back at Spencer where he stands at the bar, nor do you let the practised smile you're wearing falter. Your guts an aching wound and your skin flushed with heat, you reach for the cherry coasting along the surface of your drink and pull it out by the stem, twisting it between your fingers. Unbothered on the outside, and an insecure, hurt mess on the inside.
It really looked like Spencer was flirting with her.
You chew your cherry for much longer than you need to for want of something to do, hot tears begging to well behind your eyes. Spencer isn't your boyfriend, you've held hands a couple times and that's that. He's allowed to want someone else. Someone prettier, smaller, she'd had a head of perfect braids and a dewy, do eyed smile. Cherry swallowed, you knock back your drink.
"Sorry," Spencer starts, sliding into the booth next to you with another cherry sour for you and what looks like an ice cold glass of coke for himself.
You hadn't asked him for a drink and he hadn't mentioned getting you one. For a moment, the ugly weight of envy lifts from your shoulders. "Oh, thank you."
"I just met this girl at the bar and she had something very interesting to ask me," Spencer says.
You don't want to hear it. Morgan absolutely does, and with Emily to encourage him, they're happy happy torture you both. "Why's Penelope taking so long?" you ask, trying to change the subject too late.
"What did she want, loverboy?" Morgan asks.
"Did you think she was pretty?" Spencer asks you.
Mortified, you stare at him. Plainly hurt, to his surprise, you clasp your hands together tightly in your lap. "Why would you ask me that?"
"Because she wants to ask you out?" Spencer's knee bumps yours. "She thinks you're, quote, intimidatingly pretty."
Emily and Morgan laugh together gleefully. You're glad this is entertaining for them, but mostly you're relieved. You pick up your drink and take a sip, looking over Spencer's shoulder into the bar for the girl he'd been speaking with. She smiles shyly.
"I'm assuming this is from her?"
"What? No, that's from me."
Your gaze flickers back to him. "Really?"
"That's my boy," Morgan jokes, swinging his arm behind Emily's seat. She laughs approvingly.
Firmly back on stable footing, you give Spencer your stickiest grin, looking over his pretty face greedily. He's looking at your drinks rather than you but his torso is turned your way, the backs of his fingers brushing your stocking clad thigh. "Maybe I should go let her down gently?" you murmur, shifting in your seat to turn his way too, flirting with the idea of touching his cheek.
"You might not need to," he says.
"How come?" you ask.
"Well, I… I sort of implied you were taken. You know. With the drink. And I also might've said you weren't interested."
"Yeah?" You put your hand on his shoulder, tracing a whisper of a path up the slope of it to the base of his throat. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not."
Emily shakes the small bowl of roasted peanuts, a deviousness about her as she says, "Good for all of us. I've never seen Y/N that jealous before. For once, I thought we'd have to protect her from you."
You could kill her. Flustered, you tilt your head to one side and look out over nothing, mumbling, "I wouldn't say I was that jealous."
"No?" Spencer asks. "I can go tell her you've changed your mind."
"Don't push your luck, Reid."
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
Accountant!Price, with whom you share a bullpen, enjoys his coffee black, sugarless, and early in the morning, nigh before the sun has yet to rise. Since half-seven, every half-seven there is of each day of the week, he sits in his cubicle, retrieves his papers from his cabinet from the previous week, wets his fingertip, and gets to work.
At eight, he attends the day's debrief, natters briefly with the man in charge in the breakroom (with whom he plays golf on the weekends), exchanges a 'morning' and a head-nod toward you, who sits across from him, returns to his cubicle, buries his head in his paperwork like a mole and doesn't re-emerge from his hidey-hole until twelve.
For lunch, he has a tuna sandwich, not because he particularly likes tuna sandwiches, but because it's only ever the last option left inside the trolley cart on the train before he arrives at his station during his commute to work.
At two, he convenes around the water cooler, talking chum-to-chum with the boys in the office; he doesn't mind that they're decades younger than himself, just that they drone on about their sex lives in a way that has him convinced that none of them have ever truly made love to a woman.
Occasionally, at four, there's a birthday party for a colleague, though only on days when it's someone's birthday, naturally, otherwise there isn't a birthday party to be had, and it's therefore business as usual.
At four-thirty, he has his wee break.
Then, at five, the day is far too gone for a third cup of coffee (he had one after lunch to wash down his tuna sandwich), so he resorts to a mug of water that he chugs down, has his... fifth wee break of the day and packs up to leave.
And at six, when all of your remaining colleagues have departed to see their partners and/or cats - both, if they're so financially stable - he pounds into you over his desk, temple pressed to his keyboard, arse to the breeze, cock thrusting back and forth between your folds at such a pace that the building next-but-one might even hear your whimpers, grunting and panting and cooing at how pretty she is, your fluttering cunt, until he cums inside her, licks you clean, gives your arsecheeks a smack, your blouse a deft ironing with his palms, your lipstick smudge a kiss, rides the lift down with you to the ground floor, truly means his goodbyes, and begins the process of getting ready for the next working day when he checks the same boxes all over again.
(And on Fridays, you get to sit in his lap)
| Masterlist |
#price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain john price smut#accountant!price#price x you#captain john price x you#john price x reader#john price x you#john price#captain john price#price smut#price call of duty#price cod#cod price#call of duty fanfic#call of duty fanfiction#cod smut#captain price x reader#captain price#captain price smut
627 notes
·
View notes
Text
HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81. [REWRITE]
he may not be a london boy, but you love him all the same, and you’re about to learn the hard way that loving someone can be a wild ride.
( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )
━━ part one.
INSTAGRAM.
liked by logansargeant, daltonsargeant, and 61,816 others
yourusername me and london boy have made so many memories here together and i’ll cherish them forever ❤️. i love this sport and i love the people i've met in this sport. i'll always love it and them, but sometimes you have to take a step back and set your sights on new horizons. that said, neither of us will be competing in any events this year— endurance or otherwise. london boy will stay in richmond and continue to receive the best care possible from people who have grown to love him as much as i do, and in the meantime, i'll start looking to those other horizons.
view all 1,761 comments
user wishing you the best of luck!! we’ll miss seeing you and london boy, but we know this decision wasn’t made lightly and we hope whatever you do will make you just as happy as riding does!!
user london boy lives a more luxurious life than i could ever hope
↳ user real like why am i jealous of a horse 😭😭
↳ user knowing how well these horses are treated? we should all be jealous
↳ user some of these horses have rain coats that cost more than my entire wardrobe combined… the day i learned that was not a fun day… 😔
user honestly only ever tuned in to watch you both
user the events won’t be the same without you!!!
user I’LL MISS YOU LONDON BOY
user take all the time you need to explore other options! you can love something and still get burnt out on it. sometimes taking that step away can be the decision that allows us to continue loving something instead of growing resentful towards it. do what you need to do to be happy! 🫶
↳ user this is such a good way to put it!!
↳ user THIS. i did competitive jumping for ten years and towards the end of that time i started seeing it more as a chore than the sport i used to be so passionate about. you absolutely CAN love something and still get burnt out on it. taking breaks is so important.
user i’m sure london boy will miss you but you do you girliepop! take a trip or go on an adventure!
user oh to be a girl riding her horse across the beach at sunrise 🥲
↳ user IKR?!? talk about dream life, she’s literally living out scenes that i’ve only ever seen in movies
↳ user it’s london boy’s world and we’re all just living in it
user wait does this mean no more horse content???
↳ user i mean she’s not getting rid of her horse or even outright retiring, she just won’t be riding competitively for 2023
user is she leaving the uk or smth?? bc she said other ppl will be looking after london boy?? i know nothing about horses guys i’m sorry
↳ user london boy will be staying at the stables as per her caption! he will be looked after by many trained professionals who will ensure he is properly fed, watered, exercised, and groomed each day! it’s actually very common for people to board their horses at a stable since horses often need large fields to graze and exercise in, and not a lot of people have big enough backyards or own property to be able to provide that themselves. whether she’s leaving the uk or not, we don’t know, but it definitely sounds like her training with london boy will be put on hold for the time being!
user miss girl we’ll always remember you and london boy as the greatest duo in endurance racing history
↳ user REAL REAL REAL
user does this have to do with her falling off a few months back??
↳ user it could, she did mention the encounter leaving her pretty shaken
↳ user yeah but the possibility of something like this happening is so high that a lot of riders have accepted it as an inevitable occurrence in their career
↳ user even still, that doesn’t change the fact that she could very well be traumatized or experiencing lingering side effects
↳ user guys!! speculation will do us no good!! if she wants to tell us, she will!!
user YOU KNOW I LOVE A LONDON BOY 🗣🗣🗣
logansargeant wanna trade one paddock for another?
There’s a sort of terrifying uncertainty that comes with breaking a long-standing routine.
It’s like a fucked-up sort of package deal— you stop following the methodized schedule you’ve meticulously upheld for years, and in exchange, you receive more time than you know what to do with and an overwhelming responsibility to fill it.
The only question is: with what?
The muscle memory lingers, and you suspect that it’ll take some time for your body to un-familiarize itself with a sleep schedule that you’ve religiously held on to for years, but there’s no demands to maintain any of it and that makes any sort of attempt at continuing to run through the motions feel entirely obsolete. You may instinctively wake up at the ass crack of dawn, but without the necessity of a horse relying on your punctuality to get him fed, watered, and turned out to the paddock, there’s nothing you can do beyond filling the morning with something until your internal clock catches the memo and decides to let you sleep in for once.
“You know, when I invited you to tag along with me,” Logan begins in lieu of a greeting when he opens the front door and sees you standing on the stoep of his apartment, clad in athletic wear and a pair of well-worn running shoes, “I was under the impression that we both understood that to mean the traveling to races part and not necessarily the pre-season training.”
“‘My dearest sister,’” you sarcastically quip back in a mockingly deep voice, feigning heartfelt sincerity and pressing your hand melodramatically to your chest. “‘How good it is to see you after so long! I would be absolutely delighted if you joined me on my morning run today.’”
Your twin brother shakes his head in exasperation, but through the facade of annoyance, you can recognize the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Honestly, Logie,” You pretend to wipe a tear from the corner of your eye and add in a sniffle for extra flair, “you're too sweet. What would I ever do without you?”
“We saw each other a week ago at brunch,” he grumbles, reluctantly taking a step back from the door and allowing you to pass over the threshold into the warmth of the apartment and out of the winter’s frigid morning air.
“When?”
“Last Wednesday—”
“—did I ask? Oh! Boom! Gotcha!” You whoop out an exclamation of victory as you continue down the hall. “Gosh, I am four for four now. You gotta step up your game, Logie-bear, or this is gonna end in a miserable shut out for you.”
He heaves out a heavy sigh that carries with it twenty-two years of suppressed brotherly rage and the exhaustion that can only come from being reminded at every chance that he is, and always will be, a minute younger than you. “You're the bane of my existence, and I do sincerely hope you know this.”
“Aw, I love you too!”
You step into the small kitchen at the end of the hall. With the exception of a little potted cactus sitting on the windowsill— a housewarming gift from you— it looks nearly identical to how it was the last time you visited.
A month ago.
When he moved in.
There's a woven mat on the floor in front of the sink, an ashy green that contrasts nicely with the off-white cream color of the cabinets and laminate countertops. You can't really tell if Logan actually bought the mat, or if it came with the place, but it's cute nonetheless and serves as one of the few pops of color in the otherwise monochromatically beige apartment.
“I see that my cactus continues to reign supreme as the only individuality in this place,” you comment, glancing over your shoulder in time to see him appear in the doorway.
He shrugs at your words. “Yeah, well, you'd be surprised how busy you can get when you're preparing for everything you've ever dreamed about. No biggie.”
“Logan,” you turn to face him, “you'll do great. There are two other rookies on the grid—”
“And I'll be in the worst car out of all of them.”
“You don't know that,” you chide gently.
This side of Logan isn't unfamiliar to you— the anxiety and fear of failure. It's always existed, and you've known about it since the morning of his first kart race when he confided in you that he was so nervous he felt like he was going to be sick.
The insecurities surrounding his own skills have persisted and thrived with every new track, every new team, and every new series, and as you've grown alongside him you've found ways to challenge his self-doubt, but you've also learned to accept that there's only so much you alone can do.
You can debate it and challenge the self-deprecating thoughts all you want, but the voice in his head will always be there, no matter how quiet it occasionally becomes.
So you choose to drop the topic for now.
It's too early in the morning for an impromptu therapy session anyway.
You turn back around and scan the countertops until your eyes latch onto the container of pre-workout tucked away in the corner, nearly hidden amidst the mountain of vitamin and nutrient supplements.
“I thought it was part of Benny’s job to make sure you didn't have to use all this shit,” you comment, picking through the jars and eyeing them each with unapologetic distaste.
Logan reaches over your shoulder and plucks a packet of vitamin C tablets from your hand, “Sometimes these just work better.”
“Yeah, maybe if you don’t have a nutritionist being paid to quite literally curate a diet specifically to ensure that you don’t need to use these,” you gesture widely to the assembled mass of supplements. “But, last I checked, dear brother of mine, you do have a nutritionist— and a very good one at that— who would be horrified to learn you’re substituting real fruit for…” you squint down at the nutritional label of another one of the jars, but there’s very little that you recognize amidst the scientific jargon and long, five-syllable words, “little gummies that taste like fruit.”
He huffs, “Get your pre-workout or I'm leaving without you.”
“You wouldn't dare leave without me,” you grumble.
“I've done it before and I'll do it again,” he snipes, giving a brief yank on your ponytail and cackling when you swat behind yourself in futility.
There’s more he isn’t saying— there always is, nowadays— but you recognize the deflection for what it is. You want to claw him apart with questions and demand answers that bare every inch of his soul so you understand what he isn’t telling you and why he feels the need to keep it locked away even from you, but you know better than to keep pushing at something Logan clearly doesn’t want to talk about.
It makes you nostalgic for a time in your life when he’d sneak down from the top of the bunk bed after your parents had tucked you away for the night and slip under the covers with you, a well-loved stuffed bear hugged to his chest. He’d curl up beside you and you’d pull the blankets up to your chin and watch him with big, curious eyes until he’d whisper out into the darkness of your shared bedroom what he was worrying about.
More often than not it was a byproduct of a hyperactive imagination still plagued by the fears of childhood. Something about the space beneath your bed and— “What if there’s something down there? And the only way you can see it is by its glowing eyes? But what if it knows when someone is gonna look under the bed, so it closes its eyes so you can’t see the glow?” Or the curtains and— “You have to make sure they cover the whole window because what if you don’t and then something looks inside and it knows I’m not asleep and then it comes inside? I always hold really still and pretend to be asleep even when I’m not if the curtains aren’t closed.”
But sometimes it was about anything and everything else like the fox sitting in the bushes by the bus stop on the way home from school and whether or not it had water to keep it cool in the Florida heat, or the purple glitter pen Mrs. Moore used to grade his spelling test and how the girl sitting next to him had gotten her test graded with the green glitter pen, or— “I forgot my coat in Mr. Garrison’s class yesterday, and you went and got it for me and brought it to the car with you, and I didn’t say thank you, but I always feel bad when I leave my coat behind because what if it has feelings and felt really bad because it thought I was abandoning it, so thank you for getting my coat so it didn’t feel abandoned.”
But that was then and this is now.
You’re both adults, and you live in different apartments on different ends of the city, and you work different jobs that separate you by half the globe at times. There’s no more talk of foxes by bus stops or glitter pens, and certainly no more sentient coats with fears of abandonment.
When you look at Logan now, he isn’t wasting away, and really you owe it to him after you announced out of the blue a week ago that you weren’t just taking a break from competitive riding, but rather taking a break from riding as a whole. He didn’t press you on it then— still hasn’t pressed you on it despite having every right to do so. The least you can do now in return is respect the boundary he’s trying to set.
You mutter a few curses beneath your breath— words your mother would throw a fit over if she could hear you— and feign a scowl, but some of the tension in Logan’s shoulders has released and that's all you can ask for.
“If you leave me behind, I’ll leak a picture of your pathetic kitchen to the tabloids and let everyone tear apart your design choices,” you threaten, digging your knuckles into the tender spot of his arm where bicep meets shoulder and taking pride when he squirms away and beyond reach.
He flips you off. “You’re just jealous I have a cool cactus and you don’t.”
“Hey!” You give a lazy kick in his direction, but he sidesteps it easily with a laugh. “I gave you that cactus!”
“Tomato, tom-ah-to.” He flippantly waves his hand in your direction, laughing again at the indignant squawk you make. “Just hurry up and make your damn drink.”
As he makes his way out of the kitchen, presumably to grab his shoes, you unscrew the lid from the container and reach for the scoop.
Only to find it entirely empty.
“You asshole! There's nothing in here!”
Logan’s cackle echoes from another room.
INSTAGRAM.
liked by logansargeant, daltonsargeant, and 42,451 others
yourusername day 14 without london boy and i have officially succumbed to the boredom and willingly subjected myself to the presence of my arch nemesis (love you logie 🫶)
view all 1,382 comments
logansargeant in my defense, you just showed up
user you could not PAY me to go out in this weather
user as a florida girlie myself, this is my nightmare
↳ user REAL
↳ user genuinely seeing this makes me so glad i live in a place where there’s no snow cuz yea, the view is pretty and all, but not even a gorgeous sunrise would make up for me freezing my ass off and having to wear seven layers just to keep the feeling in my fingers and toes
user i wish the most stressful part of my day was going for a morning run 😔
user calling logan her nemesis is so real i just know that man is a menace
↳ user the f2 clips of him and liam are proof enough
↳ user logan sargeant was a menace back in f3 💀 have you SEEN the prema videos with oscar and fred? bro is diabolical when he wants to be
↳ user i'm so excited for the chaos he'll bring to the grid this year
user the snow man is so cute!!
user “14 days without london boy” OH I AM ILL 😭😭😭
user ok but that view is gorgeousness
↳ user ikr?! winter sunrises are genuinely so pretty
user i’m still so confused as to why she isn’t riding anymore?? can someone pls explain
↳ user to be entirely honest, i’m not sure really what there is to explain. first and foremost, we aren’t owed any sort of explanation as to why she’s decided to take a step back from riding. it could be a personal decision, a career decision, or something else, but whatever it is we aren’t automatically entitled to it just because y/n has previously been very open and vocal about her and london boy’s training. second, she never actually said that she isn’t riding anymore. she said she’s taking a step back from competitive riding to focus on other things, and the “without london boy” part of her caption implies that she hasn’t seen him, but she could just be taking a prolonged break, or she could be focusing on something else that has prevented her from going to see him. but again, none of it is our business and she doesn’t owe us any further explanation to what she meant.
↳ user THIS THIS THIS!! as sad as i am to not have london boy on my feed, y/n is a grown adult with her own private life and we have to respect her decisions!! if or when she chooses to come forward about the specifics of her future plans and goals, then that’s great and i’ll continue to support her endeavors, but for the time being we all just have to be patient
user the selfie logan posted with you on his story was so cute!! ���
user she’s a runner she’s a track star
user i’ve missed the twin content!
↳ user me too!! i really hope that her taking a break from competitions (as much as i love london boy) will mean we get to see her actually going to more of logan’s races, especially now that he’ll be in formula 1!!
oscarpiastri if the rumours are to be believed, i look forward to getting to catch up at the races this year
━━ tags: @urfavnoirette @casperlikej @awritingtree @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl @bellezaycafe @peqch-pie @formulaal @chonkybonky @mess-is-my-aesthetic @flippingmyshit @peachiicherries @spacegirlstuff @myxticmoon @landosgirlxoxo @k-pevensie28 @moonypixel @lewisvinga @81vas @maih23 @thatoneembarrasingmoment @elz-xo @the-navistar-carol
━━ a/n: surprise! i've been working on this for a little while now (i got my wisdom teeth removed yesterday, so the time i've spent recovering has been spent polishing up the last few details for this first part) but here she is! as promised, the newly rewritten and revamped 'he likes my american smile'! i feel like i always say it, but the original genuinely holds such a special place in my heart because it was the first work i ever posted here on tumblr, so i'm really happy to take all that i've learned since then and apply it where i can in this new version. i really hope the changes and development is as loved by you all as it is by me, and that you all enjoy!
#formula 1#formula one#f1#formula 1 imagine#formula one imagine#f1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#logan sargeant#social media au
466 notes
·
View notes
Note
AHHHH I NEED MORE KEEGAN IN MY LIFE PLEASE could you write some Keegan h/c?
Pairing: Keegan P Russ x fem! Reader
Warnings: just general stuff, language, bad driving, NSFW under the cut, mdni, spit kink
A/n: it’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing😌 Keegan is such a bad bitch, he deserves more attention
• Starting off - I’m pretty sure that Keegan would want a civil partner; someone not related to military and actually as far as possible from all the war stuff. First of all, it’s to avoid having constant fear of losing you on the battlefield - it’s a highly dangerous job, sometimes coming out alive is not only a matter of skills, but also pure luck. Secondly, the amount of trauma and emotional damage Keegan carries is more than enough for two people - he needs someone grounded and, well, more stable, someone who will be able to give him a piece of blissful domestic life, faraway from all the constant war Keegan lives in.
• Always referring to you as his girl in conversations with other people or when introducing you to someone new. “That’s Y/n - my girl” “That’s for my girl, she likes pink” “My girl doesn’t like the smell of smoke so I’m trying to quit”. It’s also a way of showing everyone that you’re his - letting others know from the very beginning that you’re taken and no one better try anything with his precious girl, otherwise a few bones will be broken.
• Gives off annoying older brother vibes. He’ll always playfully nag you, and it’ll only become worse once you start dating. Placing stuff on the highest shelves just to watch you struggle to get it yourself, drawing some silly doodles on your notes, messing with your makeup that you spent nearly an hour organising neatly, punching your favourite plushie just to get a rise out of you. And of course, constant bickering! “Keegan, can you pass me that book?” - “Fuck no” *passes the book*. “Keegan, I want some sushi” - “Well shit, what am I supposed to do about that?” *already placing an order online on his phone*
• Another amazing driver here. Keegan has horrible road rage, hitting the car horn aggressively, yelling most intricate insults out the window at whoever that happened to piss him off. I also have a feeling the he drives really fast and reckless, teasing you whenever you ask him to go slower - so you better always buckle up. And yes, he definitely got in a few minor accidents - scratching or leaving indents on other car’s bumper.
NSFW here~*•.
• And while we’re speaking of driving - just imagine giving him a sloppy noisy head while being stuck in a long traffic. Keegan is seething with hot anger, rolling his eyes on other drivers, lack of nicotine adding to his distress. And here’s a sweet lovely you trying your best to make Keegan feel at least a tad bit better, soothing his booming annoyance with your silky tongue swirling around throbbing shaft, cheeks hollowing to provide stronger suction, allowing Keegan to set the pace. And it seemed to work wonders on him - his nape against the headrest of driver’s seat, pretty blue eyes half lidded, staring at the car ceiling, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, feeling your throat wrapped around his cock.
• Oh, how nasty he is. Biggest spit kink ever - ordering to open your mouth nice and wide just to spit a thick globe of saliva in it, then closing your jaw and making sure that you swallow it. Will gladly let you spit in his mouth as well; loooves messy wet kisses - either during make out session or after you gave him head, slurping up your spit mixed with his cum from your lips and chin. Very often uses his spit as lube, or telling you to spit in his palm before spreading it all over his needy leaking cock, plunging it deep inside your warmth.
• A horndog. You never have to ask him if he’s in a right mood because yes, he is. He is always in the mood to fuck. Now, he always lets you know that it’s totally fine if you say no - Keegan will never pressure or guilt trap you into any kind of intimacy, no means no. You can always cuddle up together or do something fun like cooking, dancing or simply dorking around. But if your sexdrive happens to match his - oh boy, I’m sorry for your neighbours. Let’s just say - there’s hardly any surface in your flat that you didn’t fuck on.
• It’s nothing new, but this mug is cocky. Like, I don’t think he has unimaginably big dick - not small for sure, but not huge as well; but the way he works with it - a chef’s kiss. Keegan just knows how to angle his hips to massage that one spot within you, how you like your clit to be played with, how he quickly discovers and memorises all the sweetest spots of your body. “Aw, cumming already? I barely touched you, does it feel this good?” - he’d purr, curling three of his long fingers inside of your needy cunny, thumb flicking swollen clit while hot mouth sucks on perked up nipples.
• Daddy kink? Daddy kink😏
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love<3
#keegan p russ#cod keegan#keegan russ#call of duty keegan#keegan russ x reader#keegan x reader#keegan russ x you#keegan russ smut#cod mwf2#cod x reader#cod smut#cod#cod x you#cod x y/n#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty writing#call of duty#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#call of duty smut#call of duty ghosts#call of duty headcanons
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
3000 AS character drawings
(Clearsight, Listener, Thoughtful)
I suppose this might be a new collage? Probably not a complete one, but I would like to draw some of the characters from this time period that I liked or found otherwise notable.
I wanted to include Clearsight's parents in this post, but the prospect of drawing five full-body pictures of dragons in one post filled me with some kind of emotion, so if I do that, it'll likely happen later.
Clearsight
The mother of pantaloons herself. She is described as slender, beautiful, and as having purple eyes. The graphic novels so far have one depiction of a Nightwing using future-sight and it shows her eyes glowing an eerie white while she does it. Clearsight's method of using her clairvoyance is very unorthodox, but I like to imagine she still gets this effect when she looks ahead at future events. Only in her case it looks less ominous and much more casual. I picture her sitting at the dinner table with her eyes lighting up every few minutes, until her mother finally goes "now dear, we've agreed; no future-vision during meal time." So she sighs and silently continues eating her beet salad.
Also, obligatory mention that the silver scale in the center of her forehead is, once again, a reference to my partner @flamebringer0 's theory about Nightwing powers and indicates the presence of prophetic powers, like eye scales would mark a mind reader.
Listener
Clearsight's bestie is described as large, long-necked, and curvy, and seems like a good extroverted foil to someone who spends most of her time cooped up inside her own head. She comes across as a bit of a romance-obsessed airhead, but some of the things she tells Clearsight are actually pretty reasonable, and I like to think Clearsight becomes more appreciative of Listener's ideas and influence once she departs the continent and they are separated.
Apparently she later writes a scroll about Clearsight being the most brilliant prophet who ever lived. I would like to know how that affected her life, considering the Nightwing tribe probably remembers Clearsight as "that lady who was fawning over the crazed warlock we all ran away from". Did Listener catch push-back for publishing a laudatory script about someone like that?
Thoughtful
Here is glass boy. The book describes him as handsome with circular glasses. I accidentally drew him a bit more chubby than I intended, but honestly, I think it suits him. He looks very pleasant and friendly, which seems to be in line with his general character. I am actually very happy with how this drawing turned out.
Also, he is not bipedal in this picture. He is resting his weight on his two hind legs and tail. I think of this as "tripod stance"; it's a body posture a dragon can assume to free up their front legs to do precision work. It is relatively stable, but grows uncomfortable if you stay that way for too long (tail cramp).
Also, you can't really walk like that. To walk on their hind legs with any kind of proficiency, a dragon has to place both of their wings on the ground to substitute their front limbs.
#wings of fire#wof#dragon#digital art#wof art#flawseer art#wof nightwing#wof clearsight#wof listener#wof thoughtful
673 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mistaken Identities (dp x dc)
Danny had been doing his thing, looking around, making sure he didn't alter anything in the past, minding his own business. Officially, this was supposed to be a trip to gather more blood blossom samples for Team Phantom to study, but he had ended up being a little sidetracked. Apparently though, puritan times made for beautiful forests, sue him if he was enjoying a moment of peace in his otherwise crazy life. So here he was, relaxing for the first time in way too long when this guy just barged into the clearing. Danny straightened up with a yelp which had the guy stopping in his tracks before he turned to look at Danny.
"Be not afraid, child. I mean you no harm," the man said.
Danny squinted as he looked up at the half-shadowed face of the man that seemed vaguely familiar.
"Boy?"
"Uh-" Danny managed as he realized he was supposed to answer. "Oh yeah, no problem, man."
The man tilted his head which directed Danny's attention to his weird buckle-hat. Sobering up as he recognized the clothes from his previous jaunt in the past where Sam had almost gotten burnt at the stake, he mentally congratulated himself for turning back into a human before his nap. He really didn't want to end up trapped in blood blossoms by witch-finders again.
"Are you lost?" The man said, as he edged closer. "Do you require aid?"
The halfa jumped to his feet. "Nope!" Danny said before letting out a nervous laugh. "No aid, I'm all good. Thanks though."
The man opened his mouth to say something before another voice, higher pitched stopped him. "You are back!" A woman wearing a simple dress, with a few birds fluttering around her like a Disney princess approached them.
"Annie," answered the man.
"Come," she said before leading him away with only a glance towards the teenager. The man let himself be dragged away, but not before a last few words. "If you are ever in need of assistance, please do not hesitate."
Danny waved his hand. "Yep. For sure, dude. Thanks!"
Then before the man had turned away completely, the woman grabbed his hat playfully which revealed his face completely to the weak moonlight, and coincidentally to Danny's view. The couple disappeared between the thick foliage as Danny sat, struck dumb with what he had just witnessed.
"Oh my god," he whispered to himself. "That was Bruce fucking Wayne."
Danny had seen enough rag magazines and newspapers with his face printed on the cover to recognize the billionaire for sure. What the hell was he doing in Puritan times? Then, it hit Danny like a brick. Natural portals. They weren't common, or stable and they'd been known to spirit away people randomly. Clearly, they also had some pretty severe side-effects including amnesia considering the old-timey speech pattern Mr. Wayne was using.
There was only one thing for it, Danny clearly had to bring Mr. Wayne back to the present. Not only because it was the right thing to do, but also because a missing billionaire was bound to attract a good amount of attention and if anyone connected this to the ghost zone... Well if the GIW was bad now, Danny didn't want to know what other kind of unsavoury people would pop up if ghosts were better-known. Just imagining the Justice League getting involved was giving Danny the shivers. No, the best thing to do was get Mr. Wayne back to his time and hope he wouldn't remember much of what had happened and wouldn't dig into it further.
Just as he was nodding to himself, he heard a scream coming from not too far away. He transformed before flying towards the noise, only to find the woman he'd seen before with Mr. Wayne being captured by a bunch of men wearing the same kinds of hat.
"She's a witch! Burn her!" He heard someone yell. "Hang her dead!" Someone else said.
This was giving Danny some major flashback to Sam's very own witch burning and without wasting a second, he phased the woman right out of their grips and flew them away from the angry mob.
As soon as he landed and let go of the woman, she turned to him and gripped his arm instead. "You have to help him!"
"Help who?" Danny asked, wincing.
"Mordecai!" she said, her grip tight.
"Is that the man who was with you earlier?" the teenager asked.
The woman nodded before pointing southeast. "He is in the caves, fighting the dragon!"
Danny didn't waste anytime before flying in the direction she had pointed to. Going intangible helped with speed, and he phased through the ground, going straight for the aforementioned cave. He just phased through when he caught sight of Mr. Wayne. As he got closer, he could feel some sort of energy radiating from the man. Just then, the energy started building up and Mr. Wayne started to go transparent. Panicking, Danny did the first thing he could think of and absorbed the mounting energy to himself. It felt like a shot of adrenaline except way, way stronger and for a moment everything blanked out, before the world came into focus again. When he looked around, he couldn't find a trace of Mr. Wayne, but from the energy left over he could tell exactly when he had landed. The Golden Age of Piracy.
"Goddamit!" Danny yelled as he once again felt Bruce Wayne slip through his grasp as he stole away the potent energy from the billionaire's body before it could follow wherever he was going next. First it had been pirates, then the Wild West and lastly it was 20th century Gotham, clearly the natural portal had been all kinds of fucked up for Mr. Wayne to have been dragged from time period to time period. It was a miracle he was even still alive, the poor man! Danny let out a harsh sigh as he parsed out through the information the energy had left him with. This time he'd gotten the information for the two next time-jumps, which meant, Danny could get ahead of this for once and finally catch Mr. Wayne before he could jump again.
With a steadying intake of breath, Danny took out the Infiniv-map and set his destination before he let himself follow through. As he got through he could hear a bunch of different voices, all talking over each other.
"-distortions mean what I think it-"
"-not fair!"
"-time is breaking-"
"-only leave his body once he's dead."
Danny paid no mind as he locked eyes on Mr. Wayne who was lying in Wonder Woman's arms, in a black bodysuit, looking worse for the wear. The same energy as before was emanating from him, though this time it was even stronger. Danny approached carefully, invisible before he put a hand onto Mr. Wayne's chest and concentrated on drawing all the energy into himself. It wasn't like the other times, the flow was faster and he was having trouble staying focused as more and more flew into him. His brows scrunched in concentration, and unbeknownst to him, the invisibility dropped.
All the heroes in the room turned to look at the suddenly appearing white-haired teen who had a hand on Batman's chest. As they stared in confusion, the teen started to glow. It grew brighter and brighter before everyone had to shield their eyes as there was a pulse of bright light that died down almost immediately after. Wonder Woman had to blink the spots out of her vision as she felt the weight in her arms start to shift and let out a groan. "Bruce!"
She set him down and helped him put his head between his knees, as she gently stroked his back. Superman settled on his other side while Red Robin just sat in front of him, still half-believing Bruce was really back.
"What happened?" Bruce mumbled. "The omega radiation, I thought-"
"I'd like to know that too," Green Lantern said before he turned towards the glowy kid who was still blinking his eyes as if to chase away afterimages.
"His energy signature is the same as Darkseid," Raven said, her own eyes having not left the teenager since he had appeared.
"You don't mean..." started Superman as all the heroes turned to look at the kid slowly. The latter finally looked up as if sensing he was the focus of many eyes and cringed as he met the combined stares of the Justice League.
"Yes," Raven answered. "This is Darkseid's son."
#my guy Danny has no idea what is going on#at least nobody's shooting at him#he would still like to know who is that Darkseid guy and why do these people think he's his dad#dc x dp#dp x dc#danny is Darkseid's son#(at least that's what the justice league think)#this is what happens when you absorb unknown energy willy-nilly#it's just not sanitary who knows where that energy could have come from tsk tsk#I just read Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne#so just know this is entirely based off of that#('that' being that period when Bruce was lost in time)#roxpox#roxpoxwrote
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Quiet Type
Summary: Joel Miller doesn’t really care for small talk and he finally meets someone who respects that. Slow burn romance and PWP. Jackson era Joel, no mention of Ellie. Cannon game places mentioned but it’s HBO Joel.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. MDNI. Smut. Oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, light choking, pet names, some rough sex. Joel is really sweet.
I’m actually really proud of this one, I hope you guys like it!
Word count: 5,444
Joel Miller doesn’t really like people. With the exception of his brother Tommy and his wife Maria, Joel keeps to himself. He does his patrol, eats his meals (mostly alone) at the Tipsy Bison and goes home to his empty house. He likes it this way - or at least he likes to think he does.
Everything starts to change when you show up in Jackson. You were wounded, on the run from a group of raiders that ransacked your camp and took out half your group. The surviving half got split up as you fled the area, just trying to get out alive. You had run straight into Jackson’s patrol unit, hands in the air and begging for help.
“Stay right there, do not come any closer.”
It had come from who you would later find out to be Tommy Miller. You stopped where you were and plead your case with the group of people that had their guns trained on you.
“Please, I’m not sick. Just wounded. Raiders attacked my camp and I lost my group.”
Tommy instructed the dog at his side to sniff and you stood as still as possible as it circled you, smelling for signs of the cordycep infection. The dog returned to Tommy’s side, having found no trace of the illness.
“She’s fine, lower your guns.”
Your wound was nothing too serious; you had been grazed in the shoulder as you fled the camp, but you escaped otherwise unscathed. After a quick recovery, Tommy and Maria asked if you’d be willing to take patrol shifts. This is where you would meet Joel Miller for the first time.
After getting up at the ass crack of dawn, you get dressed and sling a pack with food and water over your shoulder. You meet Tommy at the stables and you see him talking with another man. He’s a little older, his hair a little more silver, but you can see a family resemblance - a brother, maybe a first cousin. You can’t deny that he’s ruggedly handsome, the kind of guy you would probably go for under different circumstances. He doesn’t look nearly as relaxed as Tommy.
“Ah, here she comes,” Tommy says as you approach the two. “This is my brother, Joel. He’ll be your patrol partner today.”
Joel nods in your direction, but says nothing. You’re pretty decent at reading people and, judging by Joel’s stiff body language and silent greeting, he’s not a people person. You nod in return, figuring that actually speaking would be a waste of time anyway. Tommy shows you which horse to take (his name is Toast) and you’re already up on the saddle when he turns to ask if you know how to ride.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“I took lessons before the world went to shit.”
After making sure you know the rules, Tommy leaves you and Joel to it. You let Joel take the lead and the two of you ride out of Jackson silently. As a matter of fact, you do everything silently, save for when Joel is barking instructions at you. When you return, Tommy asks Joel how you did when he thinks you’re out of earshot.
“Fine,” Joel replies. “She didn’t get us killed and she doesn’t talk my fuckin’ ear off.”
Tommy laughs and claps his brother on the back. The corner of your lip twitches upward into a half smile as you walk away from the barn and to your house.
You end up being on patrol with Joel more often than not. You suspect it’s because you leave him alone and speak to him only when necessary. You don’t seek him out when off duty and if you do happen to see him, a curt nod is the most that’s ever exchanged. He likes it this way - or at least he likes to think he does.
——————
Joel might be a quiet man, but he is still a man with (mostly) working eyes. He takes notice of your shape, the way your ass moves when you walk and the way your smile lights up whatever room you’re in. He never gets to see that smile unless he happens to see you talking to other people. He likes to see you smile and, even though he would rather die than admit this to himself or anyone else, he wishes you would smile at him. Sometimes he wonders why you talk to everyone but him, but then he reminds himself that he doesn’t care because he likes it this way.
One morning, after a couple of months of silent patrols and nodded greetings, Joel actually speaks to you when you enter the stables.
“Hey,” he grunts, and that’s all he says. But it’s one word more than what’s usually spoken.
“Hey,” you reply, making brief eye contact. You’re a little surprised, but you don’t let him see. Much like a stray dog you might try to coax into letting you pet it, you don’t want to scare him off by getting too close too soon. Eventually, “hey” evolves into “mornin’”, but nothing past the initial greeting is ever said. You don’t push him, figuring if he ever wants to talk, he’ll say something.
One day, he does. His voice makes you jump just a little, not expecting him to be speaking in the moment. You’re walking through the Mountain View ski lodge and you’ve gotten to the point on patrol where Joel doesn’t need to instruct you anymore.
“You’re, uh…pretty quiet, huh?”
“Sorry?” You’re a little caught off guard by the question.
“You don’t talk much,” he clarifies. Your eyebrows knit together in a confused expression.
“That’s because you don’t seem like the kind of guy that likes to talk,” you shrug.
“I don’t.”
“Alright then. If you’re not interested in talking, I’m not gonna force you to Joel.”
That’s the first time you’ve ever said his name out loud in front of him. He curses himself mentally because he likes the way it sounds coming out of your mouth. He just looks at you, his turn to wear the confused expression. He’s not exactly used to people actually picking up on the fact that he doesn’t care for small talk.
“I’m pretty good at reading people,” you explain. “Your body language screams ‘leave me alone’. So I leave you alone.”
“Hmph…wish other people could pick up on that.”
You let out a short laugh through your nose, and that is the end of the first conversation you ever have with Joel Miller.
——————
One night, you find yourself dreaming of him. In the dream, you’re patrolling the ski lodge. Once you’ve cleared the place and there are no signs of danger, Joel holsters his gun and turns to you.
“C’mere,” he says, beckoning to you with his hand. You walk up to him and he grabs you by the waist, pulling you the rest of the way in. His eyes are dark with lust and he kisses you with those soft, supple looking lips. Things quickly get explicit and you wake up with a throbbing cunt, arousal pooling in your panties. You’re perplexed, never having experienced any feelings for Joel other than your initial recognition that he’s a handsome man. You chalk it up to being around him so often and brush it off, going about your morning as usual.
When you meet Joel in the stables, your stomach flutters momentarily when you lay eyes on him. You take a deep breath and shake the memory of the dream out of your head and you go in to saddle up Toast. You’re pleasantly surprised when Joel speaks as the horses trot off toward Teton County.
“So…uh…where you from?”
“You mean recently or before?”
“Before. I heard you tell Tommy you took riding lessons before.”
That was months ago. You’re honestly shocked he remembered that.
“Oh yeah. I’m from Dallas.”
“No shit,” he says, sounding surprised. “Me and Tommy are from Austin.”
“Well shit, what a small world.”
You smile at him and a tiny piece of the icy wall around his heart melts.
——————
“So Tommy, I hear you’re from Texas. Me too - Dallas.”
You’re sitting across from him and Maria at dinner. He looks up from his plate, confusion evident on his face.
“Where’d ya hear that?”
“Your brother told me,” you shrug, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.
“Joel just volunteered that information, huh?” he asks sarcastically.
“Not really. He asked me where I’m from. When I told him Dallas, he said y’all are from Austin.”
Tommy and Maria are both looking at you like you’d grown a second head. They glance at each other suspiciously and then back at you.
“Joel…asked you where you’re from?” Tommy asks incredulously. You grin and stab a piece of meat with your fork.
“Turns out if you just leave him alone, he gets curious.”
“What are you, some sort of witch?” he jokes, to which you laugh loudly.
“I just have good people skills.”
——————
Everything you and Joel learn about each other comes in increments through the micro conversations you have on patrol. You let him control when the conversation begins and when it ends. He doesn’t tell you, but he appreciates that. You never ask for more than what he volunteers and vice versa. It’s gotten to the point where he’ll talk to you at least once during patrol. He asks questions about what life was like before the outbreak and before you got to Jackson and he tells you a little about himself in return.
You know he was a contractor in Austin and that he, too, likes horses. He doesn’t like to talk much about how he lived after the outbreak before Jackson; he only says he’s not proud of some of the things he did to survive. He did tell you about how he and Tommy went their separate ways and it was years before Joel finally found him in Jackson.
Joel secretly looks forward to your little conversations. He finds that he actually likes being around you. He likes that you don’t prod and ask too many questions. He likes that you seem to be able to gauge when he’s ready to stop talking. He likes it when you walk ahead of him because the man in him can’t deny you have a fine ass. Truth be told, he just likes you, but that’s a feeling he’s not ready to deal with yet. He can’t deny his physical attraction to you, though. More often than not, he finds himself fucking his fist imagining it’s you wrapped around him instead of his hand.
You like him, too. You perk up when he speaks and it makes you feel warm and fuzzy to know you’re one of the few people he talks to. You can’t help but think about him when you’re lying in bed. You fantasize about him fucking you; you imagine he’s a little rough, a little dominant. You make yourself cum thinking about him whispering filthy things in your ear.
Sometimes you think you can feel the sexual tension between you two as you’re walking side by side on patrol. You’re certain you can feel his eyes on you when you take the lead. Part of you thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might like you. You don’t say anything for fear of losing what you already have.
——————
You fuck everything up on patrol one day. You’re in the library in Teton Village quietly weaving through the book cases while Joel does the same on the opposite side. You hear the telltale clicking and see an infected coming at Joel from his right side, but Joel doesn’t seem to hear it. He sees it right as it tackles him to the ground and he gets into a wrestling match with it.
“Hey!” you shout, turning the attention of the clicker on you. It leaps off of Joel and barrels in your direction, but you’re quick on the draw and you’re able to shoot it before it makes it to you. You rush over to Joel to make sure he isn’t hurt.
“Are you fuckin’ stupid?” he growls angrily, hoisting himself up off the ground.
“Umm, you’re fuckin’ welcome,” you respond, crossing your arms defiantly.
“You could’ve gotten yourself killed,” he seethes.
“I stopped you from getting killed! If that thing had bitten you, I would’ve had to shoot you, too,” you argued. “Besides, it’s dead, and we’re not. Isn’t that why we go in pairs?”
“Whatever,” he grumbles. “Just don’t do stupid shit like that again.”
——————
He doesn’t talk to you for almost a week - no little bursts of conversation throughout patrol, not even a greeting when you meet in the stables. You don’t know what you did that was so wrong, you had only been trying to help. You’re riding through Teton Village again and you relive the moment when you pass the library. Your anger at him for his outburst reignites, the fact that he won’t even speak to you fueling your rage. He senses your shift in mood and you’re about to open your mouth to tell him off when he speaks.
“I’m…sorry.”
You close your mouth and look at him. He sees that, not only are you angry, but there’s a little bit of hurt hiding in your eyes. Now he’s mad at himself.
“I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I definitely shouldn’t have called you stupid. You probably saved my life and I need to thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome Joel. And thank you for the apology,” you say. Then you do something you wouldn’t normally do - you prod. “Why the hell did you get so pissed?”
He’s silent for a long while and you’re afraid you’ve fucked up again. You’re relieved when he speaks again, but the response you receive isn’t one you would have ever expected.
“You…scared me,” he admits. “I saw the clicker running towards you and I was afraid you were gonna get hurt while I was fuckin’ layin’ on the ground.”
“I was scared, too. It was coming right for you and you didn’t seem to hear it and it was too late for me to say anything before it attacked. I figured I had a better chance at killing it than you did.”
“You did the right thing,” he assures you. “I would’ve done the same for you.”
And he means it. He would face a room full of the things to save you. Having acknowledged that fact, he makes the decision to open up to you then.
“I’m mostly deaf in my right ear. That’s why I didn’t hear it.”
“Oh. Well that makes sense.”
You’re not really sure what else to say, other than to ask him what happened, but you don’t want to push him. If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you. And he does.
“I tried to take myself out right after the outbreak. My daughter died on outbreak day and it destroyed me.”
You gasp softly and a hand goes to your mouth in shock, partially because he’s telling you something so personal and partially because you feel so bad for him.
“Joel, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
He waves the apology off and continues.
“I missed somehow - obviously, because I’m still here - but it fucked up my hearing.”
You’re quiet for a little bit. You’re in disbelief that Joel willingly shared such an intimate detail about himself. In a soft voice, you finally say, “I’m glad you missed.”
He gives you a little smile and you fall back into a comfortable silence for quiet a while. On the way back to Jackson, he surprises you again.
“Hey…wanna eat dinner with me tonight?”
“Sure, I’d love to,” you say with a grin.
You don’t ask him if it’s a date for the fear of him taking it back. It took almost a year and a brush with death for him to ask you to do anything besides patrol with him and you weren’t about to risk messing it up.
When you walk into the Tipsy Bison, you see him sitting at his usual table in the corner, eyes flitting around the room nervously. You’re glad you decided to dress up a little, throwing on a skirt and one of the nicer tops you have; he’s dressed in a button up flannel and clean jeans, his hair slicked back. Your cunt throbs just looking at him.
“Oh god,” you think to yourself, “I didn’t think he could get any hotter, but damn.”
Tommy catches sight of you and calls your name, waving you to his table. You wave at him but continue walking towards Joel.
“Sorry Tommy, I have plans.”
He watches you take a seat across from Joel and pauses mid bite as his brother actually smiles at another human being. Maria nudges him and he looks away quickly.
“Sorry I’m late,” you apologize as you sit down. “I couldn’t decide what to wear.”
“You look really pretty,” he says. You feel your cheeks heat up and you hear Tommy loudly whisper, “did he just say she looks really pretty??”
You and Joel glare at Tommy simultaneously and the younger Miller puts his hands up in surrender. You giggle when Maria chastises him and Joel doesn’t know when he’s ever heard a prettier sound.
“I really like your hair like that,” you say, turning your attention back to Joel. “You look really nice.”
It’s his turn to blush now. You think it’s absolutely adorable.
“Thanks. I uh, I wasn’t too sure what to wear either.”
He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, the material of his flannel tightening around his bicep. You have to will yourself not to drool over the muscle flexing underneath. He’s trying to shake his nerves. It’s been…fuck, it’s been over twenty years since he’s been on a date, back when restaurants and movie theaters were still a thing. Wait, did he ever clarify that this is a date? Before he can say anything, you speak up.
“Can I ask you a question Joel?”
“Go ahead sweetheart.”
He doesn’t know where he got the confidence to say that. It makes your heart skip a beat and your stomach do a backflip.
“Is this a date?”
He chuckles heartily.
“Yes darlin’, this is a date.”
——————
Your first date with Joel goes exceptionally well. You both relax and you have a full blown conversation, laughing and joking with each other and acting like nobody was staring at the two of you. Nobody in Jackson had seen Joel happy, probably ever. You leave the Tipsy Bison together and you both ignore how everyone’s heads turn to watch you leave. He walks you to your front door like a true southern gentleman.
You stare at each other for a long moment, and then you both move in for a kiss at the same time. You grab the front of his shirt and reach behind you to turn the door knob; you pull him into your house without breaking the kiss. You push him onto your couch and he looks up at you with admiration as you straddle his lap.
“You sure you wanna do this?” he asks between kisses.
“I’ve been sure since I walked into the Tipsy Bison and saw how fuckin’ hot you look.”
He growls, deep and throaty, and it rumbles through his chest; he palms your ass underneath your skirt, squeezing roughly. His tongue is in your mouth and your hands are in his hair, ruining the slicked back style. His lips move to your jaw bone, then to your neck where he sucks harshly. There’s going to be a mark there for sure, but neither of you care. You both want the whole town to know Joel Miller marked you as his.
“I think about you all the fuckin’ time,” he confesses into your skin, his breath against your neck making you tingle. “Not just about this. In general.”
His words are sweet and they make you feel as though you could explode with joy. You smooth your hand down the back of his hair as he buries his face into your cleavage, kissing the exposed tops of your breasts.
“I think about you, too. I really like you, Joel.”
He looks up at you and smiles, his hand coming up to cradle your face. He uses his thumb to rub your cheekbone and he kisses you softly.
“I really like you, too.”
You smile and put your hand over his. You remove it from your face and kiss his palm before placing it over one of your breasts.
“Do you ever think about me like this?” you ask as you begin to grind your hips on him. His breath hitches but he recovers quickly, kneading your breast over your shirt while his other hand squeezes your hip.
“How could I not? Got a gorgeous fuckin’ thing like you ridin’ next to me almost every day, shakin’ your ass when you walk in front of me.”
You giggle, your hands moving to his chest to unbutton his flannel.
“I had a dream about you once,” you tell him as your fingers slowly work his buttons. “We were in the ski lodge. You kissed me and then you laid me down and fucked me on one of the couches. I was so wet when I woke up.”
“Baby girl,” he groans. “So fuckin’ hot. Do you touch yourself thinkin’ about me, hmm?”
You’re finished unbuttoning his shirt now and you push it off his arms, revealing his toned biceps.
“All the time,” you respond, dragging your nails lightly down his bare chest. His lips crash against yours again in a needy, desperate kiss. He breaks it just long enough to pull your shirt over your head and then he wraps his arms around you, his touch cool against your burning skin.
“Let’s see if I can still do this,” he says, his mouth moving against yours.
He grabs the clasp of your bra with one hand and, with one flick of his fingers, your bra unclasps and hangs loosely off your shoulders.
“Damn, that was impressive. And very hot.”
He chuckles and slides your bra off your arms, tossing it carelessly to the side. He does this without breaking eye contact and he presses another kiss to your lips before admiring your naked breasts.
“Fuckin’ perfect,” he says, cupping them in his hands. He rolls your nipples between his fingers and your head falls back, a soft moan escaping your throat.
“Let’s take this to the bedroom, yeah?” he suggests, his nose brushing your exposed throat. He stands with you still on his lap and you wrap your legs around him.
“Mmm, a big strong man,” you tease, squeezing his biceps. He laughs through his nose and carries you to your room, tossing you gently on the bed. You giggle softly when your back hits the mattress. You sit up on your elbows and watch with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as he comes out of his jeans. His cock is perfect. It’s big, but not big enough to be intimidating, and it’s rock hard.
He gets to his knees on the mattress and tugs your skirt off your hips, your panties going with it. You’re now completely on display for each other and neither of you can stop staring. He’s fit but a little soft around the middle; it drives you absolutely wild. He thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.
“You are so god damn beautiful,” he says softly. You smile up at him.
“Come kiss me, you gorgeous fuckin’ man.”
He does, his tongue licking inside your mouth. He sucks on your tongue and you moan into the kiss. Your hips rise to meet his, your cunt desperate for some kind of contact.
“Patience baby girl,” he coos, pushing your hips back down. “I wanna take my time with you. Been dreamin’ about this for a while.”
He kisses your neck again, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. He presses open mouthed kisses to your chest before sucking your nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hardening bud. You’re absolutely soaking now and you can feel arousal sliding down your thigh.
“Joel…my god…please,” you breathe.
“Shhhh, let me play baby. I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”
He switches to your other breast and you’re sure you’re going to explode before he touches you. Your clit is throbbing and you’re desperate for his touch. He takes his time, finding the most sensitive parts of your body and kissing, sucking, biting. You feel like you’re being worshipped.
“Does this turn you on?” you ask breathlessly. “Because, fuck, it turns me on.”
“What, touching your beautiful fuckin’ body like this? Absolutely,” he assures you. “My cock’s hard enough to cut glass right now.”
You both laugh a little bit and you’re reassured that he’s enjoying himself. He spreads your legs into the butterfly position and settles onto his stomach, his head between your legs. He kisses your pubic mound and then spreads you open with two fingers.
“Mmm, look at this pretty pussy. She’s jus’ fuckin’ soaked baby. You’re dripping onto the fuckin’ sheets. Can I taste it?”
“Please,” you manage to squeak out.
He kisses your clit and you gasp. He blows softly on the area and you moan, your hole clenching around nothing.
“Oh, she likes that,” he teases. He massages your clit with the tip of his tongue and a high pitched, breathy moan falls from your lips. Finally, some relief. His tongue feels so good, swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves. All you can do is pant and moan as he buries his tongue into you.
“God, you got the sweetest fuckin’ pussy.”
He wastes no time diving back in, moving his head from side to side. He laps at your cunt and you can feel the buildup of pleasure getting ready to release.
“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna cum,” you warn. This only spurs him on and he sucks hard at your clit. That pushes you over the edge and your hips rise as your orgasm hits. You let out a long whine of his name and he only stops when your hips meet the mattress again.
“Good job sweet girl,” he praises. “Let’s see if you can take another.”
He doesn’t wait for you to answer before he’s between your legs again, alternating between licking and sucking your clit. Your hand is in his hair, keeping his face between your legs because you’ll take whatever this man decides to give you. You notice that his hips are rutting into the mattress; he’s just as desperate for release as you are but his priority is you. You feel your impending release and you’re cumming before you can properly voice it.
“Oh god…I’m…f-fuck - cumming, I’m cumming,” you wail. He doesn’t stop when you’ve come down and the feeling of overstimulation makes you scoot back from his mouth. He wraps his arms under your thighs and pulls you back to him.
“C’mere baby, give me another. You can do it.”
You breathe in deeply and exhale through your nose and you relax into his touch again. This time, he slides two fingers into your hole, pumping in and out as he laps at your clit. He hooks his fingers and your eyes fly open as his hits that spongy spot in your walls.
“O-oh god don’t stop,” you pant. He pumps his fingers faster, curling them with every thrust.
“Oh yeah baby, you’re so close. I can feel you clenching around my fingers. Listen to you making those pretty sounds. Let go for me pretty thing. Cum for me.”
A few more strokes of his fingers and you’re coming undone. You cry out his name, gripping the sheets until your fingers hurt. He kisses the insides of your thighs softly.
“That’s it baby, you did so good f’me.”
He sits up on his knees and takes his cock in his hand. You watch as he strokes it, the sight stoking the fire in your belly once more. You need him, need to be full of him.
“You want my cock, pretty girl?” he asks, as though reading your mind.
“Please…,” you utter pleadingly. He settles himself between your legs and drags his cock through your folds. You both moan as he slides in slowly, pushing all the way to the hilt.
“God, I jus’ wanna fuckin’ rail you,” he says through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ perfect pussy. Gotta go slow though.”
“No, rail me. I can take it.”
“Baby if I rail you right now I won’t last. Let me go slow for a minute and then I’ll destroy this little fuckin’ pussy, yeah?”
“Oh god, yes,” you mewl. He takes his time, sliding in and out of you slowly. He enjoys watching how you suck him back in, your arousal making his cock shine.
“She’s so wet for me baby,” he whimpers, and you think it’s the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever heard. “Oh fuck, your pussy feels so good.”
He picks up speed a little and you wrap your legs around him. He rests his hands on either side of you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His tip hits your g-spot with every thrust and you moan and whimper pathetically.
“Joel, just - fuck, just like that. Gonna make me cum so hard.”
“Fuckin’ cum for me baby girl,” he groans. He reaches between you and rubs your clit with his thumb. The extra stimulation sends you reeling and you’re clawing at his back, babbling about how hard he’s making you cum.
He pulls out and flips you into your stomach, pulling you back by your hips. He slams back into you all the way. He thrusts into you over and over, railing you just like he promised. At this point, you’re certain you can be heard by anyone outside but you’re beyond caring. All you can do is cry out for Joel as he continues slamming into you.
“Yeah, keep clenching around my cock, dirty fuckin’ girl. So tight f’me baby, fuck.”
He lands a smack on your ass cheek and it makes you cum again without warning, eyes rolling back.
“‘m cumming Joel,” you mumble. Your body quakes with pleasure as he pounds into you relentlessly.
“God fuckin’ damn baby girl, you take this fuckin’ cock. Take it like my good fuckin’ girl.”
He’s lost in the way you feel, hips slamming into you so hard you’re actually moving forward on the bed. Deep, guttural growls rumble from his chest.
“One more time baby,” he pants. “Need you to cum o-one more time.”
He pulls you up so that your back is against his chest. He puts his lips to your ear and kisses the shell of it, his hand cuffing your throat.
“You’re gonna cum again for me baby, then I’m gonna fuckin’ paint you with my cum.” His voice is low in your ear and he applies light pressure to your throat. His free hand reaches down to rub your clit. “Whose pussy is this?”
“Yours baby. All yours,” you whisper.
“That’s fuckin’ right. Mine. Cum for me baby, I wanna feel you.”
With a few more thrusts, you cum around him one last time, the cry you let out slightly strangled by his hand around your throat. He pulls out and jerks himself a few times before you feel ropes of cum splash against your back and ass. He rests his head on your shoulder as he catches his breath and you reach around to run your fingers through his hair.
“Holy hell woman. That was…”
“…fucking incredible,” you finish for him. He breaths put a “yeah” in agreement and kisses your shoulder. “Stay here, let me clean you up.”
He finds a wash cloth and wets it in the bathroom sink. He comes back and gently cleans his spend off you. He lays down with you and spoons you, kissing any part of you he can reach.
“Was that really okay? Was I too rough?” he asks.
“It was way more than okay. That was amazing - and I like it a little rough. Definitely do more of the choking.”
“Noted,” he chuckles softly.
“Will you stay?” you ask, and he doesn’t even have to consider his answer.
“Of course.”
#joel miller#joel miller smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal smut#the last of us#tlou hbo#tlou series#tlou smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Finnick’s trauma and comforting him:( /angst/
TW: mentions of forced prostitution and description of some gore and violence, a little bit of self hatred, talking about traumatic events
A/N: to all those survivors and victims of traumatic events, I’m proud of you…and this is a reminder that your loved ones are always willing to listen. Also, this is quite long so buckle up!
————————————
I think it is pretty much common knowledge that Finnick Odair has some deep trauma from his time in the games and past. Although most victors of the Hunger Games suffered the same fate, Finnick was caught in Snow’s grasp too young..too vulnerable. He was forced to participate in the 65th Hunger Games at only 14-to kill others for survival- and when he won, thinking that all the suffering would be over then, he was threatened to become a prostitute at 16, otherwise his loved ones would be slaughtered- in which they did.
Finnick tries so hard to put on a facade in front of the Capitol- when he attends shows and interviews- and he does an amazing job at that. He tries so, so hard to remain strong for you too…to try and convince you that he really is alright by lying that his past no longer haunts him. He wants to assure you that he is stable because he is afraid of becoming a burden to you, afraid to be pushed away or feared by you because of his ‘problems’. The last thing he needs is to have the last person he loves vanish from his life.
However, at times, the stresses and memories just come flooding back to him and he finds himself breaking down.
Sometimes at night, you’ll be awoken by the soft sobs of Finnick crying, and seeing him in that state just absolutely destroys you…as if a thousand knives to your heart.
His back is facing you to avoid having you see his teary face, quietly sniffing into a pillow in his arm. He looks so vulnerable…almost like he’s fourteen all over again, and your heart throbs at the sight of your love- usually so big and strong- breaking down into pieces.
“…F-Finnick, my love?” You whisper ever so softly, sitting up against the headboard as you place a your much smaller hand on his shoulder.
Finnick turns at you, his eyes red and tears welling up at his waterline, long lashes wet and cheeks a little flushed from crying. He blinks, wiping away his tears, voice raspy as he says apologetically,
“Honey….I’m so sorry I woke you up.”
This man. He’s breaking down and he is so selfless that he apologises to you for experiencing valid emotions?!
“Oh Finnick, why are you apologising? It’s not your fault..you know it never is. Was it the nightmares again?” you ask gently with sympathetic eyes.
You have no idea what Finnick had to go through in the Hunger Games or any idea of what it is like to have your body sold but whatever it feels like, you know it must be terrible…so painful and terrible for somebody as strong as Finnick to be shattered. And you wouldn’t even have to think for a second to do anything at all -to kill or to sacrifice your own safety- just to share half of Finnick’s pain….to lift the weighs off his shoulders.
“My love, would you like me to hold you?” It is the least you can offer.
Finnick sniffs quietly and nod, moving closer to you to lay on your chest. Your fingers delve into his golden curls, playing with his hair as it is one of your favourite ways to calm him down. The two of you find peace in the silence before you ask softly:
“Would you like to share what happened, Finnick? Or we can talk about it when you feel better and just cuddle back to sleep…whatever you’re comfortable with, my love.”
Finnick is quiet for a few moments before he blinks and rubs at his wet lashes, “..it was…it was another nightmare. I had to kill the last tribute…a young girl from district 11. She was only a few years older than me…forced into the Games too…and I had to k-kill her to win…” His voice cracks as a tear rolls down his cheeks, and you wipe it away with your thumb, nodding as you listen attentively.
“It was terrible…the look on her face when I stabbed her with my trident…I can still remember her shrill screams, the look of betrayal on her face…the way her body thudded to the ground with blood soaking up her wetsuit.” Finnick begins to sob once more.
“Shhh..shhh” you coo, stroking Finnick’s cheeks as you attempt to comfort him.
Finnick shakes his head, breath hitched and uneven as he sobs in your hands, and the heartache of seeing him like this nearly eats you alive.
“I…I’m disgusting…I feel impure….and with what Snow did to me…”
“…the things he made me do…I feel disgusting....”
Prostitution is something you know of Finnick’s past, but it is a topic he has never really opened up on until this moment. You never forced him or questioned him about it because you know it is an event of great trauma to him.
You can only stroke Finnick’s hair to sooth him and hold him tightly in support as he continues, feeling both sympathy and proudness that he is able to open up about this topic.
“No matter how much I try to wash myself, to scrub my skin and submerge myself in soap, I can still smell the sickening scent of Capitol perfumes. Sometimes…I feel sorry that I can’t be a better partner for you sweetheart……and I’m so afraid that you’ll leave me or regret me or feel shameful of me.”
You cup Finnick’s face for him to look at you and there are a thousand emotions visible in your eyes as you speak.
“Are you kidding, Finnick? Look me in the eye when I tell you that I will never regret loving you or feel ashamed of you. I’m so proud to have you as my partner, as my lover, so proud of how strong you are…how strong you remain after the terrible things you had to go through.”
“In fact, my love, I look up to you. You’re my role model Finnick, and if I were in your shoes, I would not be able to handle things half as well as you do. You are kind, amazing, beautiful and definitely not disgusting. Trust me when I say that that is the last thing you’ll ever be. Besides, it wasn’t your choice to kill that tribute, anyone would’ve done the same.”
And with that, his sea green eyes softens, and that smile you’re familiar with finally appears on his face. Dimples when he smiles. You press a soft kiss on his forehead and stroke his hair as the two of you hold each other sleepily, slowly dozing off to a deep slumber. The last words you mutter being:
“I love you, my love.”
“I love you more, honey. And thank you….really.”
——————————————————————
A/N: AHHHH! tell me why I almost cried writing this?! This is my first angst and I think the lost piece I’ve written by far (on this new account). Please like or reblog if you enjoyed this, and follows are most definitely appreciated ;)
#finnick odair#finnick odair x reader#finnick x reader#finnick odair fluff#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair smut#finnick x y/n#the hunger games#finnick smut#finnick odair drabble#thg finnick#thg series#finnick fluff#finnick odair angst#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair x fem!reader#finnick x you#finnick angst
716 notes
·
View notes
Text
one look (and it's over)
Characters: student representative!Leehan & content creator!female reader
Setting & genre: high school au, fluff, coming of age, fake dating for like 30 seconds
Summary: You took one look at Kim Leehan and thought you had him all figured out. But oh he was so much more than that and somehow he became a stable point in your uncertain future.
Warnings: stage names are used, OC refers to Leehan as pretty boy and is annoyed by him in the beginning, OC has one neglectant comment about harassment against boys but regrets it immediately, Leehan has this popularity thing going on with all its consequences, people tend to touch him without his consent and it does bother him but tends to play it off, he also reveals an insecurity about his looks at one point
Words: 7.8k
Author’s note: this is also the product of the amount of Ann Liang books i binge read recently, the instagram algorithm and @restlessmaknae’s marketing for Zico’s kids. partly inspired by who! trailer film and Leehan’s iconic “how can she not like me when i look like this?” title is from Leo’s One Look
despite all the spoilers i hope you like it @restlessmaknae <3
read Taesan’s companion piece here
The first time you met Leehan, he said you were his girlfriend.
Not to you but to another stranger, a girl very obviously flirting with him and you felt like an awkward third wheel standing there with your camera in hand.
“Oh,” the girl with thigh socks and manicured fingers pouted after giving you a once-over as if cataloging what she lost against but then she mumbled out a sorry and made a beeline towards her friends in the back of the room.
The boy next to you let out a relieved sigh and that was what managed to snap you out of your stupor.
“Did you just use me to get out of having to say no?” You hissed and glared at him despite the height difference. Lucky for him you weren’t a fan of public humiliation, so you didn’t call him out on the lie loudly while the girl from before was still so close but it didn’t mean you supported his rude behavior. However, the boy didn’t look like he was feeling guilty.
“I did say no. Twice. She was being pushy,” he explained, letting out a frustrated huff as he looked down at you. “I know her type, this was the easiest and kindest way to let her down.”
“You talk as if you had so much experience,” you snorted, the urge to roll your eyes too strong but nothing could have prepared you for the boy’s reaction.
“Well… yeah,” he simply confirmed with a small nod after barely hesitating and just pointed at his face. His stupid handsome face because if you wanted to be honest, he looked exactly like the type of guy girls your age would be daydreaming about. His hazel brown, longer locks framed his freckled face nicely and his orbs reflected the blue lights of the aquariums around you behind his stylish glasses. You weren’t even sure he needed those or if they were just a fashion item like his baggy jeans and plaid shirt were. He looked like the kind of boy who thought they were too good for everybody.
“Alright,” you muttered, sarcasm dripping off your tone before turning your back on him and heading towards the tunnel under the shark aquarium because you wanted nothing to do with the likes of him. Briefly you wondered whether the girl from before saw this and thought you were the jealous kind of girlfriend but you had better things to do than worrying about that.
Unfortunately, the pretty boy didn’t get the memo and managed to catch up to you quickly. His stupid long legs easily kept up with your steps.
“Hey, wait up. It would be weird if we went separate ways and she found me again.”
“Not my problem,” you reminded him and the guy had the audacity to look like a kicked puppy with his doe eyes. It was unfair. You sighed. “Whatever. Just stay quiet.”
The guy did not in fact stay quiet. He babbled about random fun facts about the sea animals you were seeing, pointing out cool hiding ones you would have missed otherwise and he seemed to know more fish species than you ever heard of in your life.
“How do you know all this?” Your curiosity got the worse out of you at one point when he was talking about the coral reef and star fishes in such detail your past Biology teachers would have been ashamed of their own knowledge.
“Oh. I come here a lot,” pretty boy answered with a shrug and a big smile, his pearl white teeth glittering under the fluorescent lights. “Would you like me to take a picture of you? It’s one of the last rooms.”
Out of instinct you were about to tell him no because you were used to taking your own pictures but thinking about it for a moment, it was only right. He lied about you being his girlfriend and stuck to your side, so you couldn’t film like you planned. The least he could do was to take some pictures.
“Sure,” you handed him your camera and stood in front of the colorful aquarium, posing naturally, then you turned towards the fish and poked the glass between you. The boy didn’t even complain and later you had to admit that he did take it seriously. The photos came out nice enough to set one of them as your new profile picture.
“I’m Leehan by the way,” he said as he handed back your camera and as if on cue, your phone started ringing. You glanced at the caller’s handle before answering, sandwiching the phone between your shoulder and ear to take the camera back.
“Hi, mom. I will be out in a minute,” you said, waving the guy goodbye just to not be rude while you listened to your mother explaining the location of the parking spot she found. You might not meet ever again but you could be well mannered about it even if his previous attitude still bothered you.
When you were younger, you wanted to become many things: idol, actress, tv show host, news anchor… You had always had the passion of performing and ever since you had won the beauty pageant in your region when you had been 4 years old, you had kept hearing that you had the face for these things, too. As if having been a pretty baby helped much with teenager pimples and acne scars.
It was a bit more than three years ago when you decided to take your fate into your hands and do something with this interest of yours. During the summer after your middle school graduation, your family moved to Jeju, so your parents could oversee the opening of the new branch of their business. Not knowing anybody around there but loving the beautiful spots, you started making weekly videos about your days, studying, discovering bakeries and stationary stores. A term passed and life brought you to Gwangju, then Daegu, then last time Daejeon. Over the years your content changed a bit focusing more on realistic high school life portrayal, aesthetics vlogs going around new towns and skincare tips you learned while your subscriber numbers increased gradually. By now, you were an established content creator with a loyal following and some long term sponsors. You only had one more year to graduate and then you could do this full time.
Unsurprisingly senior year had found you in a new city too, this time Seoul, and your viewers had been eager for new exploring types of content, so you had done your research and headed out to look around a bit before the upcoming term made you busy. That was how you had ended up at the aquarium too, not that you could salvage any footage from that day after meeting the arrogant pretty boy.
But oh, how wrong you were about not seeing him again. He was literally on the poster advertising your new school when you went to pick up your school uniform with your mom. Suddenly Seoul seemed to be a much smaller city than you expected it to be.
Small mercies though, at least you weren’t classmates. Not that it saved you from hearing the girls gush about him or his other popular friends. It was a typical high school thing, everywhere you went, school cliques and dynamics were all the same. As the new transfer student you fit in alright, but you had experience in that, in being the new kid in town. You got yourself some popularity too after one of the girls asked for your IG and saw your followers’ number and another classmate was watching your Youtube channel apparently. You didn’t become an outcast nor were you caught up in classroom drama, so it was all good just how you liked it to be.
It happened a few weeks into the term, on a nothing special Tuesday. You were sitting in the canteen with some of your classmates you befriended, spooning fried rice into your mouth and listening to Eunjoo squealing about the new Olive Young discounts, when you looked up and your eyes met a familiar set of brown eyes. The first thing you noticed was a sly smile on the boy’s lips then the second that he wasn’t wearing glasses, so either you were right about them being fake or he wore contact lenses.
You forced yourself to look away despite feeling his gaze on you and focused on the girls’ chatter about Innisfree’s new skincare collection, agreeing to go with them later to check it out. Suddenly, you heard a creak of chair legs dragged across the floor and the canteen quieting down for a long moment before the murmurs picked up. Then an empty tray with only remains of the daily lunch menu was slid onto the table across you and Wonhee on your left gasped.
“Hello, girls. Hello… Y/N,” came the now familiar smooth voice and you caught Leehan pointedly looking at the name tag over your uniform before locking eyes with you. “I didn’t know you go here.”
“I just transferred this year,” you said, unfazed but you couldn’t help but observe how different vibe did the boy give off now compared to the aquarium. Maybe it was the circumstances or maybe it was the uniform’s doing, the suit well-fitted, his necktie nicely made and the fabric’s tight stretch empathizing his broad shoulders. Nothing about him now indicated how laid back he had been back at the aquarium, how relaxed, if not for his lazy smile. Here he was composed, seemingly aware that each of his movements were followed by curious eyes. Huh, maybe he did have as much experience rejecting girls as he had claimed despite his age.
“Do you know each other?” Eunjoo chirped in, cutting your train of thoughts short.
“We ran into each other before,” you explained briefly and while it didn’t seem to satisfy the girls' curiosity, luckily Leehan didn’t seem keen on elaborating either.
“Well, it was good to see you again,” he nodded towards you then flashed a charming smile at your entire table before taking off, leaving a trail of whispers and gossip in the wake of his steps. You looked after him and wondered what Yongsan High’s prince wanted from you.
That could have been it. Acknowledging each other’s presence, greeting each other on the school hallways, nothing less, nothing more. That was until Principal Im called you into his office, offered you tea and mentioned that ‘it was brought to his knowledge that you were some sort of Internet persona’, his words, not yours. It felt weird talking about it with a teacher because none of your previous schools had a problem with it. But as it turned out it was quite the opposite. The principal wished to use your ‘expertise with standing in front of a camera’ to the school’s benefit. So that was how you ended up doing a photoshoot for the school’s Open Day with none other than Kim Leehan.
Although you had no actual modeling experience, the principal reassured you that you didn’t need to be professional for this kind of shoot. He was even delighted by the idea of you vlogging the experience for more exposure. So on the day of the shooting, you headed to the classroom assigned for the shoot right after classes and talked with the photographer about recording the entire session and set up your camera. You were doing last minute adjustments with the brightness and white light with the new angle after filming getting your hair and ‘no makeup’ makeup done by the stylist the school hired (like woah, they took it seriously) when Leehan showed up.
It was obvious that he had experience, he moved around the lighting and photography equipment with ease, charming everybody with his easy smile and kind greetings. He sat through getting his makeup to not glow or look tired on camera without a word of complaint and instead chatted with the woman about her dog. You caught yourself staring at his genuine smile a little too late.
“Y/N!” Leehan’s smile widened slowly, a little cheekily, showing his dimple and he shot up from his chair to walk up to you and your camera. “So it’s you.”
“It’s me,” you confirmed but you weren’t sure why he looked so giddy about it. Was he worried it would be some clingy fangirl of his?
“I heard you’re Internet famous,” he noted and then looked pointedly at the camera. “Are you going to film the shooting too?”
“That’s the plan. If that’s alright with you,” you looked at him, questioning. Even if he said no, you could record your solo parts and use just that and the preparation during editing. You wouldn’t have wanted to make anybody uncomfortable with your filming. Leehan however didn’t seem to mind at all.
“Sure, you can even put my face on the thumbnail,” he winked at you, teasing, right before the photographer called for you.
Even with all his playfulness, Leehan took the job seriously. Whether it was experience or natural talent, he had a knack for easing into natural behavior despite the constant click-clack of the camera and knew how to smile into it when it was needed to make the photographer satisfied. You took a bunch of photos depicting school life at Yongsan High: flipping through text books, fake writing essays, solving equations on the board and working in pairs on a task. You honestly weren’t sure why they needed so much for a simple Open Day brochure but it was a one of a kind experience and not at all bad.
“Thank you for your hard work,” the principal’s secretary distributed drinks for everyone when the shooting was wrapped up and you bid goodbye to every adult with polite bows before dismounting your own camera.
You didn’t expect Leehan to wait for you but for some reason, you weren’t all too surprised either.
“Want some?” He held something out for you and looking down you saw that it was a pack of shark shaped gummies. So random.
“No, thanks,” you shook your head and put your tripod and camera into your bag, ready to go. But you couldn’t without making a comment. “You’re pretty good at this. Modeling, I mean.”
“Hm. It’s good for extra pocket money,” Leehan shrugged between chewing two pieces of gummies. You were sure it wasn’t the first time he heard it from somebody. “And no, before you ask, I wasn’t paid for this either. I mean in general.”
With his face and overall good looks you weren’t surprised to hear that. Not to mention it was a positive thing that he had already found something to earn money with.
“Do you wanna do this after graduating?” You asked, suddenly curious because you realized that you didn’t know anything about him other than his fascination with sea animals, that everywhere he went girls just fell in love with him at first sight and that he acted like you were friends for a while when you had been nothing but strangers.
“Nah. Maybe as a side gig but hopefully I will get into a uni with marine studies,” he said and you knew that it was very judgemental of you to be surprised at his career choice, especially after seeing how enthusiastic he was at the aquarium but it only proved your stance that you barely knew each other. And apparently Kim Leehan kept surprising you.
“That’s cool,” you mumbled, not wanting to voice out your surprise in case he would think you thought of him as an air-headed pretty boy even if there would have been a tiny bit of truth in that.
“What about you? Will you turn content creation into a job?” He nodded towards the tripod in your hands. He didn’t ask about it in a way some of your more distant relatives did, condescending, like you were a child they needed to warn about how unstable of a career it was. He seemed genuinely curious, so you gave him an honest answer too.
“Well, I will try to. But I plan to get certificates for digital marketing too and maybe help others boost their online presence too,” you said because while your plans might not have been unheard of in this time and age, you knew that it was far from what your conservative country encouraged. If nothing worked out, your parents would have been glad to welcome you at their company too but you didn’t voice that out because you would have preferred paving your own way.
“That’s pretty cool, too. What’s your account’s name by the way?” Leehan asked, fishing out his phone ready to look it up and his eyes sparkling with curiosity which was unfair really because it made it hard to say no to him. “Oh come on, I’m sure I could ask any of your friends.”
You knew he was right, he could even just search your name on Naver and find it. You weren’t sure why you felt so self-conscious thinking about him checking out your channel or other socials. Plenty of other people did.
“Fine,” you sighed, telling the boy your IG handle and in a weak attempt of not seeing his reaction, you swung your bag onto your shoulder now that you were all packed up and headed towards the classroom exit.
“Cute,” you heard Leehan’s comment, quiet and unexpected, from behind you just before he caught up to you with his long legs. “You set the photo I took as your profile picture.”
You hummed because what else could you have said? It was pretty obvious. Leehan seemed surprised at first though but then his mouth tilted in a teasing way.
“Where’s my credit?” He singsonged, easily keeping up with your walking speed.
“In your dreams. I don’t want dating rumors,” you told him. You weren’t famous in a way you would have to worry about people dissecting your life but so far you had managed to keep your family and relationships out of the public eye and you wanted to keep it that way. If you captioned the photo with ‘taken by the pretty boy I met at the aquarium’ some of your followers surely would have gotten way too invested in your non-existent love life. Plus, you had thought you wouldn’t see each other again.
“What if it’s not a rumor?” Leehan asked just to tease. It was easy to tell from his tone or the way his eyes glinted when you looked at him.
“Says the guy who lied about having a girlfriend when asked for his number,” you deadpanned with an eyebrow raised, challenging him to disagree with you but the boy only cackled.
“Touché.”
He followed you on Instagram and after one cute animal post in your DMs, you followed him back. You didn’t text much at first, just sharing some memes over Principal Im’s mild reactions to your photo shoot and random sealife content. Then the principal asked the two of you to greet the parents at the school gate on the Open Day which made you bond over mutual annoyance over responsibilities like this. You would never understand what difference it made to have two students offer brochures by the door instead of stacking them on a table free to take to the overall experience of parents, but there you were, on brochure hand out duty on a fine Friday.
“Do I have a sign over my forehead saying ‘touch me’ or something?” Leehan grumbled after the nth parent thought it was appropriate to place a hand over his shoulder or touch his cheek just to coo about how handsome boys attended this school. You got some comments on your looks too but the aunties were impressed by Leehan’s visuals way more and neither of you could say anything because that would have come off as disrespectful and wouldn’t have done any good for the school’s reputation.
“Do you want to take a break? I can cover for you,” you offered because seeing him at unease twisted something in your stomach. Honestly, both of you were there mostly just to look pretty, so if he left to be alone a bit, you would have been fine still.
Leehan seemed taken aback by your offer though if his widened eyes and slow blinking was anything to go by.
“No, it’s fine. Thanks though,” he shook his head eventually and put on his fake smile when the next batch of parents filed through the entrance.
But something shifted then between you, some sort of unsaid understanding over vulnerability. Something that made you think that maybe you could be more than just two people in the same boat. You could have been friends talking about stuff friends did.
Maybe that was why, when you were done and ushered to your respective classrooms, you brought up the first neutral topic that you could think of to fill the void while walking on the empty hallways.
“Hey, are you friends with the school radio club leader?”
Leehan seemed lost in thoughts, so your question made him falter a bit, his eyebrows creasing, confused about the sudden topic.
“Taesan? Yeah, why?” He asked tentatively, turning to look at you briefly and see your expression.
“Is he dating my class’ president?” You asked because even though you weren’t one to bump your nose into others’ business, based on what you saw, you could barely believe it wasn’t common knowledge. Leehan must have been on the same page because his eyes immediately shone with excitement.
“Oh, you noticed too!” He pointed out, giddy, and it was nice to see him smile so wide after how uncomfortable he had looked before.
“It was kind of hard not to. I was at the senior interview last week and they kept glancing at each other,” you said because honestly, they must have thought that they had been subtle about it, always looking when the other hadn’t but it made you feel like a third wheel.
“That’s just great! I can’t wait to tease Taesan with it,” Leehan grinned, bouncing a little on his feet, his soft-looking hair falling into his eyes behind the glasses he decided to put on that day too. “They aren’t official or anything. Taesan was actually convinced for a while that pres hated his guts but as far as I know there has been progress.”
You weren’t an expert at love by any means but based on what you saw, your class president was far from hating the other guy, so you just hummed in acknowledgement. Leehan misunderstood your silence though.
“Are you jealous?” He asked, more astonished than teasing as he jogged in front of you, so he could look at your face while walking backwards. An unnecessarily hazardous thing to do, so you halted your steps when you reached the corner of your classrooms' hallway.
“What? No,” you furrowed your eyebrows because where the heck did he take that from?
“So you don’t like Taesan?” Leehan asked as if it was something he needed to confirm, best friend duties or whatever. Even if you liked his friend, you wouldn’t have talked about him with Leehan. That kind of behavior just didn’t make sense to you.
“No, gosh, I was just trying to start a conversation,” you sighed exasperatedly which exuded a chuckle from the boy.
“Cute,” he noted and absentmindedly reached out towards your head. You froze in your spot the same moment his hand stopped mid-air too having caught himself. You felt heat rush into your cheeks thinking that he wanted to… what? Ruffle your hair or pat your head? Either way, Leehan smoothly recovered as he pulled his hand back and ran his fingers through his own silky locks, waving goodbye to you before heading off to his class.
It was silly how something so small and insignificant like that suddenly made you nervous around the boy. Well, nervous might not have been the right word. You would have liked to think that previously you were indifferent or slightly intrigued at most when it came to Leehan. He was just another boy after all, just one more face that you wouldn’t see anymore when your family moved again. You had become great at not getting too close with anybody after the constant goodbyes had become too much to handle. Yet, you caught yourself waiting for the boy’s random animal fun facts and felt yourself getting flustered when you caught him as much as looking in your direction at the school canteen. It was getting ridiculous.
When you mentioned to Hyewon that one guy made you feel this confused, she told you that it could be just because you weren’t used to being friends with boys and that you needed to get out more. That's how you ended up at Wonyoung’s house party that weekend. The cheerleader welcomed you with a wide smile despite not talking more than ten words with you before but you guessed that it was normal. The more the merrier and all that jazz.
You had never been a party person, it was too loud, too chaotic. You weren’t sure how this was supposed to help with your problem but Hyewon seemed to have fun, especially when she made Gyuvin dance on the dance during a round of truth or dare. You talked with some people from class and strangers both and it wasn’t bad, you did have a good time but after a while it was a bit too much. Very unlike your usual Saturday night when you usually edited your videos to the tunes of your feel good Spotify playlist.
You needed some fresh air after being in the stuffy house for hours among dozens of other sweaty bodies and luckily Wonyoung’s parents’ house had a back garden, perks of living in the suburbs. From outside, the party’s music was muffled through the walls, toned down but still audible. You closed your eyes and let the night breeze cool your face. You only snapped out of it when you heard the sound of movements from the other side of the terrace. Initially you thought that it must have been a cat, so you were quite surprised when behind the huge kimchi jar there was none other than Kim Leehan.
“Jeez, what are you doing here?” You put a hand over your rapidly beating heart after such a jumpscare and eyed the guy sitting against the wall.
“What does it look like?” He asked, sheepishly for once with a scratch on his nape. It was so unlike his confident persona that charmed half the girls in your year. There was something lovely about it though, that he allowed you to see him like this.
“Don’t tell me you’re hiding? From girls?” You asked in a hushed voice and at first it was supposed to be a teasing joke but considering Leehan’s silence there must have been some truth in it. “Seriously, you are like 180cm, what can a bunch of girls do to you?”
You blurted it out without thinking but the moment it left your mouth, you realized how ridiculous that sounded. It didn’t matter that he was a guy or he was this tall, nobody deserved to be made to feel uncomfortable.
“Sorry, that was insensitive of me,” you apologized immediately, not wanting the boy to get defensive or hurt due to your unnecessarily harsh words. “But if they bother you so much, I’m sure there are better ways to deal with it.”
Obviously you had never been in his shoes but you wanted to help, you wanted him to feel comfortable enough around you to share the burden, to not play it off when things got like this.
“Most girls are fine, they are respectful and I don’t mind being looked at,” Leehan sighed wistfully, leaning his head back against the wall, looking up at the sky, starless from all the light pollution in the big city. “But… some are too much.”
You felt your fingers twitch, sudden anger rising in your chest thinking about scenarios of what could have happened that made him come out to hide there. Did they grab him or touch him in a way he didn’t want to? Did some drunk girl force themselves upon him when he just wanted to have fun with his friends?
“Are you okay?” You asked, worried, keeping an eye closely on the boy’s facial expressions.
He hummed. It was not a very elaborate response but it was better than nothing. In the following silence though you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. You looked back at the door, wondering when tipsy high schoolers would stumble out to smoke and to break this idyll. It must have looked like you were about to leave, not wanting to bother him because he spoke up, rushed as if he could miss you any minute.
“Can you stay?”
The depth of his voice was more apparent when he talked quietly. Or was it because of the dim light and the open space? You could practically feel it vibrate through your cells. There was no way you would have said no to that.
It was you who just hummed this time, not trusting your voice, and you squeezed yourself next to Leehan, into the space between him and the kimchi jar, the house wall cold against your back. It made you shiver lightly because in the recent lovely spring weather you forgone wearing an extra layer. The boy noticed though, he shrugged off the plaid shirt he wore over a white tee and covered your back and shoulders with it.
“Thank you,” you mumbled, suddenly surrounded by his warmth and the smell of sea salt even after he pulled back his hands.
“Tell me something,” Leehan whispered and despite initially not knowing what to say, you ended up telling him about your inexperience with parties and how moving around a lot affected your relationship with people and your sense of home. You told him that you were thinking of getting your own place instead of moving with your parents to a new city next time but you were afraid because you had never lived alone and you weren’t sure what your parents would have said either. You were so young yet the last few years had been so uncertain, a constant countdown until the next destination and you wanted to settle down for a bit, to call a place home for more than a few months. You wanted to get to know people without the constant fear of eventually losing touch with them.
Leehan was a good listener. He asked the right questions and shared his own perspective of things. There was nothing arrogant in the way he said that distance didn’t matter with the right people. At one point, once the heaviness of the topic subdued into a lighter conversation about your favorite places to be, he leaned his head on your shoulder, his locks tickling your ear and his closeness turning your cheeks rosy.
It was cozy, staying there with him, just talking. You didn’t even notice the party sounds dying down until Haewon called you to ask if you had already gone home without her. It could have been embarrassing how you didn't even notice time passing in Leehan’s company but you felt nothing of that sort. Shyly, you handed him back his shirt and wished him good night before catching up with Haewon.
You should have known that the girl famous for her intuitions wouldn’t leave it just like that. You were ambushed the moment the two of you were alone on the night bus.
“Sooo… where did you disappear off? Were you with Leehan?” She singsonged casually while you almost choked on your spit because you had never told her that the boy making you feel conflicted was Leehan. The pretty, popular boy of your grade, the prince of Yongsan High. The one almost everybody wanted. So cliché, so unnerving. And yet…
“Wh– what? How?” You spluttered, flustered but it only made Haewon giggle and coo at you.
“Please, I have seen how you look at him.”
“Oh, gosh, is it that obvious?” You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. You didn’t think you were that gone. Scratch that, before the party you wholeheartedly believed that it was just curiosity and being friendly on your part. Maybe Haewon was right and you had no idea how simple friendship worked with boys.
“It’s cute. And don’t worry, I don’t think Leehan noticed. He’s used to more… aggressive type of love declarations.”
“I’m not declaring my love for him!” You objected because that was too much, too soon. You just realized that you liked him and you haven’t decided yet what to do with this new, fuzzy feeling spreading in your chest.
“Why not?”
Why not indeed? Was it not wanting him to lose this fragile safe space he found with you just because you couldn't stop yourself and fell in love when all he needed was a friend who understood? Or was it your usual mindset of keeping everybody at an arm’s length to not get too emotionally attached? You had no idea and it was too late into the night to figure it all out then.
Summer was approaching fast. It meant humid and sunny days, and way too many term end tests. It also meant two months without seeing Leehan which planted a kind of dread in your chest whenever you thought about it. At least you weren’t moving this time, not with your CSAT exams coming up in the second half of the year, so you had a bit more time to decide whether you wanted to stay here even if your parents moved away after your graduation.
Things only subtly changed after that party at Wonyoung’s. You didn’t necessarily look for each other’s presence at school, probably because both of you knew the rumors would be a pain to avoid if you did otherwise. You did text more though and not just about the previous neutral topics. Having been in Seoul for longer, Leehan started recommending places for you to visit for your YouTube channel and he knew that you wouldn’t belittle his complaints when he was annoyed by the way he was treated. He was also the perfect person to turn to when you had a bad day because he would listen and then he would make you feel better with his odd little jokes. He was such a dork under that popular pretty boy surface and you loved being able to see this side of him too. He also made sure to keep you updated about the school radio leader’s and your class president’s progress.
On a particularly hot June day, it was Leehan who nudged you in the side when he walked past you in the hallways.
“Let’s get ice cream after school,” he suggested casually as if it didn’t make your heartbeat go crazy, so you walked two blocks down from the school while arguing about the best Baskin Robbins flavors and went over the popsicles section of the corner convenience store only for Leehan to dig out the most artificial green colored one for its alien packaging. You laughed about the color of your tongues and the icy dessert melting all over your fingers and you had so much fun that for those few minutes you forgot about all the uncertainties in your life. Nothing mattered, just that moment with Leehan.
Haewon’s question (why not?) echoed in your ears at times like this.
It became a new habit sweeping well into summer: hanging out outside of school, looking for places with refreshing desserts to beat the heat. It was Italian-style gelato one week then bingsu or hwachae the next. You didn’t film but you kept posting pictures on your Instagram and you really underestimated the curiosity of your followers because one blurry reflection on the window was enough for people to conclude that you were on a date.
You knew for a fact that Leehan had the habit of stalking your comment section ever since he got so worked up about somebody making a mere comment on you gaining weight, but he didn’t say anything about this incident, which was probably for the best because honestly, you weren’t sure you could have played it off as coolly as when you had talked about not wanting dating rumors back in the day. Because what if it wasn’t rumors?
Next time you met up, Leehan pointed a finger at you in accusation even before he sat down at the table you already occupied.
“You went to an ocean-themed cafe without me?”
You blinked up at him in surprise, trying to make sense of what he was talking about when you remembered what you posted earlier to your Instagram.
“I was cafe hopping and found it by accident,” you explained that it wasn’t planned. If you knew, you surely would have told him about it. Even when you found the pretty coffee shop, you were so excited to tell him about it but then you had to remind yourself to tone it down, to not make your feelings too obvious.
“Still… Next time, you should take me with you,” Leehan said, pursing his lips a little child-like and you wanted to pinch his cheeks just above his adorable dimples. You curled your fingers into your hand to stop yourself.
“I’m not used to filming in company,” you told him because it was kind of a principle you had to fully pay attention to the people you were with instead of focusing on snapping pictures or recording. Maybe it was because your parents didn’t like it that you had your camera on you when you went out with them on those rare occasions they were free to give in to your request. With Leehan though, he might not have minded it but you were sure he would be distracting in the most heart-fluttering meaning of the word. You couldn’t take your eyes off him and it would be a mess. Your viewers would notice the same way Haewon had noticed too.
“Please~” The boy pouted (unfair!), fluttering his eyelashes under the loose strands of his long grown fringe and you felt your resolve weaken immediately.
“Just because you are pretty, it doesn’t mean you can just do that and I will give in,” you blurted out a protest in a weak attempt of keeping your composure. You didn’t even notice your subscious slipping through until Leehan’s pout turned into a content smile.
“Oh, so you do think I’m pretty.”
“I… that’s not the point!” You protested but Leehan seemed oddly satisfied with the new knowledge. He was whistling to the tone of a 2nd gen kpop song under his nose when the ahjumma came to take your orders and both of you were embarrassed because you didn’t bother looking at the menu since you arrived. The ahjumma smiled fondly and mumbled something about young love which turned you crimson but you hoped Leehan didn’t hear and didn’t notice. Luckily (or not), he was still hung up on your previous slip up.
“I thought you were immune to me,” he mumbled and he sounded so serious that you couldn’t even find it in yourself to joke about what kind of virus he would like to be then.
“What?” You blinked at him, not sure what brought this up but while you were confused, Leehan looked like this was something that had been on the tip of his tongue for so long and now that it was finally out he had a lot to explain.
“I mean, it’s not a terrible thing I guess. I like it that you treat me like a normal guy from day one, that you don’t swoon just because I walk past you on the school hallways and you aren’t afraid to call me out on my bullshit when I’m too much but then I kind of want you to be swooned by me. I know it doesn’t make sense but sometimes it bothers me so much that you don’t like me the way I like you.”
“I…” You gaped at him like a fish, speechless, but couldn’t even finish your clumsy excuse of sentence because Leehan was still rambling.
“Like look at me. How can you not?” He finally looked you in the eye and pointed at his face.
His all too lovely face with the warmest shade of brown in his playful eyes, the prettiest hair you would like to ruffle and the smart line of his rosy lips. At that moment he looked so young, so boyish, the teenager blemish barely visible on his face because in your eyes even the flaws made him more handsome.
“Leehan,” you said his name slowly, forming each syllable like it was an answer itself. Suddenly it wasn’t so scary to be honest because you now knew that he was just as unsure around you as you were with him. “I do like you but no offense, it has nothing to do with your looks.”
If you wanted to be honest, his looks were one thing you disliked about him in the beginning. You had known popular boys before who knew they looked good and they had always had the kind of ego that made their handsomeness turn sour in your mouth. But it became clear over time that he wasn’t one to use his good looks to get away with things and take advantage of girls’ feelings.
“Y/N,” Leehan called your name in a similar manner to the way you had done, a confused little frown sitting on his forehead and you wanted nothing more than to smooth it out. “There’s so much to unpack in that sentence.”
“Like?”
“Like when you say you like me, do you mean it in a friendly way?” He asked and he sounded so nervous asking it that you couldn’t help but giggle. He had said it first in his ramble, he wasn’t weirded out by your confession either nor did he brush it off and gosh, he sounded outright hopeful, so the relief made you feel giddy.
“Sure,” you smiled before casting your eyes down. “If wanting to hold hands with you and going on cheesy dates is a friendly thing to do.”
There was a moment of silence that made you so nervous you had to look up again and what you saw was better than seeing any breathtaking sunrise.
“Really?” Leehan whispered, his eyes shining with little stars in them.
“Really,” you nodded shyly before remembering his previous claim about so much to unpack and you cleared your throat. “What else?”
The soft smile melted off the boy’s face and something insecure flashed through his eyes as his fingers fumbled with the napkins on the table.
“And… does it mean that you like me but not the way I look? Like… am I not manly enough or–?”
“Hey, no, that’s not what I meant,” you interrupted quickly but not quickly enough because you never wanted him to feel that way to begin with. You scrambled to find the right words to explain this time. “I like you because you are caring and kind, you listen to my vents and try to help, you make boring stuff fun, you make me feel at home with you in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. It doesn’t matter how you look but to tell you the truth and not just to boost your ego, you are the most beautiful boy I have ever seen.”
“Oh, okay,” Leehan muttered but then giggled and the tips of his ears peeking out from between his wavy locks reddened adorably. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Kim Leehan getting flustered in front of you, because of you?
“Hold up… are you blushing?” You teased, softly, playfully and wholeheartedly smitten.
“Shut up,” Leehan mumbled but there was no edge in his tone, just a smile playing on his lips. So cute. “I like you too. A lot. In a friendly way if walking you home and kissing you goodbye is something friends do.”
This time it was your turn to flush, a cherry color appearing on your cheeks. You were pretty sure that that’s why the ahjumma turned on her heels when she walked up to your table again without asking about your orders. The menu cards were still untouched next to you.
You got to hold Leehan’s hand that day when he did good on his promise and walked you home. He also kissed you on the cheek by the gate because you both got shy but it was fine, you had the entire summer and all the time in the world. There was no need to rush anything.
Your first official date was at the aquarium for old time’s sake and it was the second time Leehan called you his girlfriend. You got distracted reading about the ‘Nemo fish’ and you didn’t realize that the boy wandered further away staring at a big tank full of fluorescent jellyfish as if it hadn’t been there before. By the time you caught up with him, there was a girl there, handing him her phone, smiling coyly. Last time you didn’t feel anything if not mild annoyance for being dragged into it but now you could feel your chest swelling with a new emotion. You had thought before that you would be jealous but what you actually felt was pride. That there was this beautiful, amazing boy and he liked you and he seemed proud of it too as he shot an apologetic smile towards the girl then saw you over her shoulder and his forced smile softened, its edges lifting up until his dimple showed.
“Sorry, I have a girlfriend,” he said and this time it was real.
He bowed politely towards the stranger then reached for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours and you hid your smile in his arm as he pulled you farther away.
“Are you good?” You asked quietly, just to make sure that the girl didn’t make him feel uncomfortable because otherwise you might have had to go back and lecture her on basic manners.
“Never better,” Leehan replied, smiling against your temple with a brief kiss before pointing at a tank you passed by. “Did you know that angelfish mate for life?”
“No, I had no idea,” you chuckled and listened to your boyfriend tell you all about this species of fish you had never heard about before. It was perfect. You could have listened to him all day.
209 notes
·
View notes
Text
The scene where Willow confronts Faith is Choices is kind of fascinating to me, because ... well.
I like Choices quite a lot, and I think Willow's dislike of Faith is perfectly understandable and in character (and her speech has some fun but probably not intentional foreshadowing for later seasons), but it's hard not to notice that the narrative expects you to be rather more unambiguously on Willow's side than I think is really warranted.
I mean, Willow might not have been the most popular girl in high school, but she has multiple close friends, a nice boyfriend, a stable [and fairly comfortably middle-class] home life, she "represents the pinnacle of achievement in Sunnydale High" in the words of her school's principal, she's trusted enough to teach at the school, in a year she'll be able to go to any college she wants (and, unlike some people, she can afford to go anywhere she wants), she used to hack into government computer databases (before she ever met Buffy!) and now she's teaching herself dark magic "for fun" and she hasn't [yet] ever suffered any real repercussions for either of those things.
On the other hand, from what little we hear about Faith's past we know she grew up poor and that her mother used to get drunk and beat her, that she didn't have any friends and dropped out of high school young, she is very strongly implied on multiple occasions to have been the victim of some pretty horrific abuse before being called as a Slayer, and after being called as a Slayer she got to watch the one adult who ever told her she mattered get killed horribly in front of her before fleeing across the country to a town where she doesn't know anybody, still has no friends, doesn't have a job or go to school and lives alone in a motel in the bad part of town. And when she accidentally killed a man, while trying to do the whole slaying vampires thing she's supposed to be doing, the Watcher's Council -- who never actually bothered to send her a new Watcher of her own -- decided to have her abducted and dragged away to England [a fate which surely nobody deserves].
Yet a part of Willow clearly thinks (and almost outright says) "oh, well, yeah, but she hangs out with Buffy sometimes when I don't get to and she slept with the guy -- not my nice boyfriend! -- who I used to have a crush on (and who I was briefly cheating on said boyfriend with), so it's clearly impossible to say which of us really had things worse and I don't need to feel sorry for her". And -- again, while this is great characterisation for Willow -- it's kind of hard not to notice that the writers think she has a compelling point.
Yes, sure, Faith has defected to working for the Mayor and has a knife drawn on Willow this scene (she's not anything like a blameless victim at this point of the story) and it takes a certain level of physical bravery for Willow to stand up for herself despite that. But ... I mean, come on. "You had friends like Buffy" is only true if you accept it to mean "you had exactly one friend, who was Buffy". "It's way too late" for Faith to seek forgiveness ... how many people has Faith killed at this point? One, by mistake? Giles has killed more people than that. "Some people think you had a lot of bad breaks?" Yeah, actually in Faith's shoes I'd want to hit Willow after she said that too.
I realize that part of the show's central thesis -- something that explicitly came up as recently as Earshot -- is the idea that everybody, regardless of how comfortable their life might seem from the outside, has their own sorrow and pain and (only occasionally metaphorical) demons to fight. But while that's not entirely wrong, it's also ... not entirely complete? Everyone has it bad sometimes, but some people really do have it worse than others. Pretending otherwise is ... not a serious position to take.
Willow's life could be better, but she's not gone through anything like Faith has. I'd argue she literally can't imagine how bad Faith's life has been. She really doesn't have as much moral authority as the show's writers think she has at this point.
[Compare this part of Season 3 with the first half of Season 6, when the show is overflowing with sympathy for Willow's abrupt descent into magic addiction but has no sympathy at all for Amy Madison, whose own magic addiction is just implied to be because she's inherently a Bad Person who Willow needs to avoid and whose own horrific past and abusive mother and complete lack of support system is just entirely forgotten about. Or, indeed, to the weird take of Dead Man's Party, which has Buffy apologize to Willow for ... what? Having problems of her own that don't revolve around Willow? Being too busy mourning the loss of everything she ever cared about to tell Willow how uniquely special and amazing she was for learning rudimentary magic? Not being grateful enough for Willow restoring Angel's soul without bothering to ask Buffy if that was something she still wanted her to try?]
So, the overall effect is ... yeah, it's a good scene. But it's almost a good scene despite the writer's intentions, not because of them. It's much less of an ambiguously triumphant moment for WIllow than I believe we're meant to read it as.
214 notes
·
View notes
Text
I think Freminet has some of the most interesting dissonance in his self perception of any Genshin character.
Like, of the Hearthlings we know, he's one of the most emotionally mature and intelligent. Lynette might still have him beat, but after playing her hangout... I dunno. I think they're tied. Lyney is Crumbling, Alrecchino is. Well. Arlecchino. Everyone else is a deeply traumatized child or adult and Freminet seems to pretty regularly be people's emotional support. His character stories talk about getting his vision by saving a bunch of other kids on a dive that went bad. The Selkie event literally had him being a therapist for a grownass woman, citing his past experiences with all the other Hearthlings that have died or killed themselves. And he handled that situation WELL. Yeah, he seems to live in a fantasy, but goddamn he's alive and a lot of people in his position aren't so clearly something is working.
Either his or Lyney's character story talks about the time Freminet had reached out to Lyney to try to ease his burdens, which resulted in Lyney blowing up at him. That probably contributed to Freminet thinking he's not good at it, but I think the reason Lyney reacted so badly was BECAUSE Freminet is actually a good support. He can't allow himself that from the little brother he's supposed to protect.
Freminet seems to both cry and dissociate often, but like... Kiddo you are in fact the only person in this family actually processing your emotions. Lynette dissociates 24/7. Arlecchino. Lyney lies and tells everyone he's fine and would literally rather die than admit otherwise. In comparison, Freminet is doing FANTASTIC
Freminet also gets a lot out of helping people! Like anyone, he needs to feel useful and needed. He seems to be an excellent mentor to the younger Hearthlings and perfectly competent on his own, but when you put him in a room with Lyney and Lynette who baby him and insist that THEY take care of HIM, he withdraws into himself.
Like, Freminet by himself feels like a young man and Freminet with the magician twins feels like a teenager. I have no idea how old he actually is. Logically, he would be OLDER than them! He's been with the House much, much longer and his experience shows. I think it's fascinating that they love him SO MUCH and yet, they just Cannot let him help them. Which is hurting him.
(Lynette is much better about not babying him and that is probably why their relationship is so much better than Freminet and Lyney's. Also why she keeps having to mediate between them. Because Lyney charges off trying to Fix Everything and that just makes Freminet feel useless and he doesn't want to get in the way and- you get the point)
Idk. It's hard to tell what things the previous director said to him vs what Arlecchino has said to him. I'm inclined to think our Arlecchino was the one that said he cries too much, but in a "crying in front of your enemies will get you killed" way and she herself is too fucked up to realize how "you cry too much" could be damaging.
Also I try not to consider gameplay stuff when it comes to story, but Freminet also has some of the most BRUTAL animations. He SMASHES HIS EMOTIONAL SUPPORT METAL PENGUIN INTO HIS ENEMY'S FACE. He doesn't think he's the most amazing fighter, and by Fatui standards he probably isn't, but he is winning fights against most grown men.
Tldr Freminet thinks he cries too much and is a burden and isn't good at helping people when he's actually the most mentally stable Hearthling send tweet
#freminet#genshin#house of hearth#character analysis#this is all over the lplace bc I'm on my phone#many freminet thoughts today#I don't wanna talk about trailer spoilers but also#this young man is a physical MONSTER#he's so similar but so different to Kaveh#where a lot of people Do perceive Freminet as a little... off#and he is#but he is a beacon of hope for all the other fucked up kids that are lost and alone#and I just think that's neat#kiddo benefits a lot from helping others#you can see how he lights up#even the hydro dragon hydro dragon don't cry#I'm sorry#this kid is comforting GOD#i think that says something
381 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ranking the promotional inklings/octolings by how much I like their outfits: Splatoon 1
Kaori:
Studio Headphones / White Tee / Pink Trainers
A simple black/white t-shirt + headphones combo alongside some aggressively pink shoes
The neutral colors of the top half of the outfit work really well to let the shoes and hair pop, which is important given that she was our first introductions to the inklings as character designs.
The only thing I can dock this outfit points for is being pretty basic, but that's also kind of the point. I'd personally prefer something with a bit more pop, but it's kind of unassailable.
4/5. She's iconic for a reason.
John:
Pilot Goggles / Zink Layered LS / Purple Hi-Horses
Similar to Kaori this is primarily a neutral outfit that puts the emphasis on the colorful shoes.
That said I like this one less than Kaori's. It's a little bit busier and the shoes don't pop as much given their darker purple tone.
Also I just don't like the Hi-Horses very much, sorry.
3/5. I can't be too harsh on him because the fit is meant to be basic, but I don't think it comes together as anything more than just Kaori's outfit but worse.
Mizuho:
Bobble Hat / Green Zip Hoodie / Moto Boots
Nice natural colors give this 'fit am active, outdoorsy look.
I like the big boots on a sniper's outfit. It makes her feel grounded and stable.
The big bobble hat is also a slightly disarming feature, it makes a bit cute, and given that she's a sniper I think she'd read as a much more serious person if she wore something more self-serious like sunglasses.
4/5. I just think this one is really good.
Rui:
Retro Specs / Baby-Jelly Shirt / Blue Slip-Ons
This 'fit flips the script the promotional characters have followed so far, really drawing your eyes to the polka dot shirt compared to the glasses and the single-color shoes.
The combination of the patterned button-down, the big boxy glasses, and the shorts (not that you had any other legwear choices in Splatoon 1) gives the outfit a vibe that to me feels straight-laced and whimsical all at once.
He has the energy of a stoic office worker with some very eccentric fashion choices.
3/5. I don't think it's very cohesive, but I can't bring myself to dislike it. It's got a lot of charm.
Laura:
Takoroka Mesh / Black Squideye / White Kicks
Another really simple fit, just a cap, a t-shirt, and a pair of shoes.
The cap gives this outfit major tomboy energy to me, and I really quite enjoy that.
The little bits of red and pink on the otherwise solid white and black of the shoes and shirt actually do a lot of lifting here, providing the whole outfit a disproportionate amount of energy.
5/5. This one is really simple but I really think it has a ton of character.
Pit:
Paintball Mask / Gray College Sweat / Orange Arrows
Another primarily neutral outfit, though this time with a pretty ostentatious piece of headwear.
I actually kind of like the shirt and shoes together, but that's about it. I really feel like the mask clashes with the rest of the outfit here.
There is nothing intrinsically wrong with the mask, of course, but I simply don't think it does anything with the other clothing here.
2/5. It's honestly not all that bad, but it simply doesn't grab me very much. I don't get any sense of personality here, and that's one of the things I really look for in an outfit.
84 notes
·
View notes
Text
like do i want to go back to university? no. do i want to do science? yes i miss it so bad i still make up practice questions for myself when i get bored and don't even have anything to practice science for. do i want to go back full time? absolutely not. do i want to go back part-time? idk. maybe? do i think i can balance work and school? ummm not sure. do i really really really miss science and doind chemistry labs? yes so bad it's literally so silly. do i have to redo first year physics if i go back and switch into chem...? yeah..... fuck. do i still need my academic writing requirement class? yeah.... FUCK. do i only have my first year calc and elective credits done if i switch to chemistry? ..... yeah. do i hate academia with a passion? yes 💯. but do i miss science??? do i really miss science? yes. i miss doing science so bad it makes me look stupid. do i do temperature conversions for fun when im bored bc i miss doing science? yes. my coworkers think this is very funny. does being in university shut my brain off? yes. will starting adhd meditation help that? goddamn i sure fucking hope so. does going back mean i get free counselling w/ my favourite counsellor again? yes 🥰. does going back mean i get to continue to be a part of the indigenous community on campus? yes and i need that community so bad honestly. do i want to move back to where i was going to university anyway? ABSOLUTELY I WILL DO EVERYTHING IN MY POWER TO MOVE BACK ASAP. do i have a plan or know what i want to do with my life anymore tho? no 😭. do i feel silly abt hating university but wanting to go back for science especially when i've been so adamant about not going back? yeahhhhh...
anyway, somebody get me in a science class asap istg. please.
me for basically the last six months like: i will NOT go to university my first year was terrible and i hated it and the thought of staying fills me with dread
me last week: i will do anything to get a better job EXCEPT go back to university
me today: idk guys i miss doing science maybe i should go back to university... for chemistry
#frankie yells#such is my dilemma#uhhh girl help idk#like literally me since february like im dropping out im dropping out im dropping i want nothing to do with this byyyyyeeee#and me now like uh. hiii i miss doing science i need that scientific enrichment in my enclosure otherwise i feel sad#watching nilered isn't enough i need to be getting a degree in chemistry#for science#ngl like missing doing science is making me feel a lot less jaded abt post-secondary#it has been an incredibly jaded 6 months over here#ig i have something im passionate abt pushing me again? i kind of lost that when i started uni bc idk things weren't what i expected?#and my interest in biology was not as strong as i thought so i kinda lost direction#which. in hindsight. duh why would you go for microbiology when you were in love w/ physics and chem in high school not bio#but um. lesson learned ig lol.#physics is cool and i love her but she will never be my passion. physics just isn't quite my realm. extremely neat but not for me.#let me mix the chemicals together PLEEEEEASSSSE#chem labs have always been my favourite anyway#bio labs i like immediately noped out of like intro bio was fun but as soon as it got any deeper i was like what huh no thank you#if you're gonna throw that much chem at me just put me in chem actually#i like the 'macro' parts of biology more like all the taxonomy and ecology stuff. not my passion but i whole-heartedly enjoy it#cellular and chemical parts of bio just make me tune out honestly. idc really about organisms insides i want to see how they interact#like microbiology is so cool for the symbiotic relationships we can have w/ them and for the microbiomes in our mouths the soil etc etc#more interested loosely in the ecological aspect of it all#also tbh i barely can comprehend why i wanted to be a doctor atp#anywayyyyy we shall see what i will do.... move back for shore. the rest? who can say.#really it depends on whether i get hired for the apprentice cheesemaker position i applied to. bc it's a pretty damn good looking job#benefits n everything! plus actual full time hours and making cheese!!! and they'll sponsor me to do a course for it if they hire me#the location is the only downside tbh bc i don't really wanna stay in the greater area i live in rn for much longer#but. it is a good job and i want stable income and some semblance of financial stability#i told my mum ultimately i want financial stability and she said 'at 19?' 😭#like girl yes surprise after a lifetime of being poor i want to not have to worry abt money i am STRESSED abt it too much
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nothing exciting
❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃
Tags: Levi x Reader, pregnancy, secret pregnancy, Fluff, Krista is a cutie.
❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃
The mess hall was a cacophony of clanging silverware and low conversations, the air thick with the scent of fried onions and meat. Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Sasha, Connie, Jean, Ymir, Reiner, and Krista sat at their usual table, their eyes trained on you and Levi, who were sitting a few tables away. They had been watching you both ever since they had seen the scene at the stables, and now they couldn't help but wonder how long it had been going on for. The group had spent the better part of the last few days speculating about the nature of your relationship, with each member offering their own unique theories.
There was you, with your playful demeanor and unabashed affection. It was like a breath of fresh air in the otherwise stuffy environment. And Levi? Well, he was the strong, silent type; the rock upon which the survey corps relied.
The interactions between the two of you were fascinating to watch. Even the most casual of glances or gestures seemed to carry a weight of meaning that the others didn't quite understand. The way you both would sneak a touch or a quick brush of fingers against each other's arms as you passed one another, was enough to send the more observant scouts into a frenzy of speculation.
Sasha leaned in, her voice low but curious. "I wonder if they've been hiding this from us all this time," she mused. "They've always seemed so close, but I never would have guessed..." She trailed off, lost in thought.
As they continued to watch, Krista couldn't help but smile whenever she saw you both stealing a moment of privacy, or when Levi would blush and avert his gaze at one of your more forward advances. The air seemed charged with an electricity that was palpable even from across the room. Her curiosity getting the better of her, "Do you think they've been dating long?"
Reiner shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Hard to say, really. They've always been pretty close. You remember, back when we first joined up? They were inseparable even then." He turned back to his meal. "It would be reasonable to assume they have been hiding it all this time."
Armin, who had been listening quietly to the conversation, piped up. "I heard they grew up together in the underground," he said, his tone thoughtful. "They must have some pretty deep history between them, and their reasons for keeping things quiet, it isn't unusual given the nature of this line of work for them to be cautious."
Mikasa couldn't help but wonder how you must feel during the times when the scouts were beyond the walls. It was one thing to be apart for a few days or weeks, but when the missions lasted for months at a time. The thought made her heart ache for you just a little.
Ymir decided to chime in with a suggestive joke. "There must be something about the miserable bastard that makes her like him. Maybe he's packing." she says suggestively, earning a few chuckles from the others. "You guys are at the stables this afternoon, right? You'll have to tell us if anything exciting happens." She adds, looking over at Krista and Armin.
The mess hall emptied out, and the scouts went about their business. Some to train, others to muck out the stables or tend to the horses.
You were in your element when you were around the horses. You had a way with them that was both gentle and firm, earning their trust and respect without fail. The soldiers looked up to you, admiring your knowledge and your dedication. You were strong, capable, and unapologetically yourself.
Which is why it seemed so unusual when Hange stopped by and told you to be careful around the horses, "Don't push yourself too hard and to make sure to gave the soldiers more work to do." Their words were softly spoken, meant only for you, but they carried weight nonetheless. Krista and Armin overhead the conversation and quickly averted their gaze, looking at one another with the same questionable look. Hearing you insist that you were fine and not to worry. It wasn't long before the captain himself made an appearance, walking straight over to you, his expression softening but still relaying something that only you seemed to understand as you sighed at him, leaving the stables.
After mucking out the stalls and exercising the horses, Krista was keen to hop into the showers. As she turned the corner, she let out a sigh of frustration as she approached the bathroom door, an out of order sign taped to it. Her heart sank. "Great," she muttered under her breath. The alternative facilities weren't as nice or warm as the main showers they would have to do. With a sigh, she decided to brave the less-frequented bathroom at the other wing end of the building.
As she approached the familiar bathroom door, she could hear muffled sounds coming from within. Curious, she placed her ear against the wood, and she heard someone retching violently, followed by the sound of someone vomiting into the toilet. She quickly knocked on the door. There was no reply, so she knocked again, a little harder this time. "Excuse me, are you okay in there?" She asked, concerned.
The sound of the door swinging open made her jump. Your face was pale and clammy, "Oh, hi Krista," your voice soft. "I didn't expect anyone else to be here. The water in here is always cold, you know that, right?" You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, a blush creeping across your cheeks.
Krista swallowed hard, her heart still racing. "Are you okay?" she asked concerned, her voice barely above a whisper. She couldnt help but notice that you were wearing your casual clothes, and the faint outline of a bump was visible beneath your shirt. Her eyes widened, the conversation between you and Hange at the stables, the captains attitude towards you still doing strenuous activities all made sense very quickly.
You smiled at her realisation, "Well, I'm not feeling my best right now, but I'll be fine." You paused, leaning against the door frame. "And I guess this means the cat is out of the bag." You chuckle to yourself.
"Look, Krista, there's something I need you to promise me." Your voice taking on a gentle but serious tone. "You can't tell anyone about this, you understand?" You gestured to your midsection, your fingers grazing the fabric of your shirt. "My uniform just about hides it for now, I know it won't be long before it's too obvious. But it would just be easier to keep things quiet for as long as possible. You know how it is around here, people talk." You explain.
Krista nodded. "I-I won't say anything, I promise." She bit her lip, feeling both honoured that you trusted her with the information, still completely shocked.
"Thank you, Krista." You reply relieved, "I don't know what I'm going to do. The survey corps isn't exactly known for its family-friendly policies." Your brow furrowed, and you ran a hand through your hair, tugging at the roots as you let out an exasperated sigh.
Krista nodded understandingly, not used to seeing you like this. Her usual passion began to shine through in an effort to be supportive and positive about the situation. A baby was surely a wonderful thing. "I'm sure there's got to be a way to make it work. You're a valuable member of the team. We need you here! and I'm sure Captain Levi will do whatever it takes to make it all work out to-" She bit her lip, hesitant before continuing, realising she had just assumed Levi was the father, confirming your previous comment about how people gossip around the headquarters. "It is Levi's, right?" She asked, blushing furiously, her voice barely above a whisper. Your face lit up, and you smiled at the mention of Levi's name as you let out a small giggle.
"Is it that obvious, huh?" You ask, slightly embarrassed that your relationship with the captain seems to have become common knowledge, you had both done such a good job of hiding it for so long. "That's one of the reasons I need you to keep it between us. You know how he is." You say, rolling your eyes playfully "He can be a real pain about our private life. Hange knowing makes him nervous enough." You chuckle.
Krista smiles sweetly and nods, "How did Captain Levi take it?" she finally asks, her voice curious, the question was burning in the back of her mind and she knew if she didn't ask now, she would never find out. The smaller details and intricacies of your relationship were fascinating to her. Having watched from afar all these months.
You hesitated for a moment, then smiled, it wasn't like you had been able to share this news with many people. "He was... surprised, at first," you chuckled. "But once he got over the shock, he was actually really happy. He's been so supportive, you know? I know he doesn't come accross as the fatherly type, but I know... I know he'll be a great dad." You said affectionately, resting a hand on your small bump. Krista smiled brightly, reaching out to take your other hand and squeezing it lightly.
"Congratulations, that's amazing, really! And a little scary, too, I imagine." She said thoughtfully. "But when you're ready, everyone will support you. Of that I'm certain." She said in an effort to reassure you. You smiled at her "Thank you, Kris. I appreciate it."
The next morning, as the group walked past the stables, Krista saw you sat down, leaving the more strenuous tasks to the cadets, Levi by your side drinking tea quietly, keeping an eye on you no doubt. You smiled sweetly as your eyes met hers, and you gave her a knowing wink. She smiled back at you, Ymir raised an eyebrow. "What was that about?" Krista shook her head, "Nothing exciting."
#levi x reader#levi ackerman#levi aot#levi x y/n#captain levi x reader#levi attack on titan#levi ackerman x reader#krista lenz#levi fluff
355 notes
·
View notes
Text
screw the cops!!
cop!ellabs x dealer!reader
warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut with plot, mentions of drugs [marijuana], cop!ellabs, dealer!reader, a lil bit of knifeplay, dom!ellabs, sub!reader, use of y/n, reader gets cut a lil bit oops!, probably more but i cant think of it rn
last minute a/n: this was another ask i forgot to put under the question ☹️ anyway thank u for the ask!!
[10:06 pm]
MY FAV ;): heyyy u got an 8th?? i can pick up at the library in 15 :)
you read the text, grumbling as you get up from your couch. you quickly shoot back:
YOU: lmk when ur there
it was supposed to be an off-day; sit in your dorm, watch tv, maybe have someone over, but no. everyone needed your shit at all times. she's lucky she's your favorite -- otherwise you would've told her to fuck off.
locking your door behind you, you get in your car and pull out of your driveway. as you glide through the gentle darkness, you feel random anxiety, like something bad is happening. it could be the lack of sleep. it could be the upcoming deadline you haven't started. it could also be the fact the entire campus is being searched because some dumbass freshman left his- no, sorry, YOUR- weed in his dorm and got the cops called. he didn't snitch luckily; he knows you would've gotten him killed if he did. but now there's a patrol going on until they find who's distributing. it's not like you wanted to live this life- you barely graduated high school, getting a small scholarship to a local college. the debt hit you, parents refused to help you anymore because you're an adult, blah blah blah blah. you ended up here to finally make a stable income and not have to chose between being warm or being fed consistently.
the sob story makes you cringe, snapping back into reality as you park in a spot by the front of the campus library. you pull out your phone and send:
YOU: here. wya
3 bubbles quickly pop up, written with a response:
MY FAV ;): kk coming out now
as you read the text, you hear the front doors swing open and a tall, slim figure gets larger as it comes closer. as she steps into the streetlight, you see her; sophomore dina. her long, onyx hair dances down her back as she comes closer to your car. she rests one arm on your window, other arm reaching into her pocket. she pulls out 35 bucks, tilting her head to the side slightly and smirking. you hand her a small baggie and take the bills out of her hand, shoving it into your pocket. "you're the best," she gushed, taking her arm off your window. she starts to turn to walk back to the library when she says, "oh, by the way, gave my friend your number."
you freeze, looking up at her in pure horror. "you what?"
"okay, chill, she's cool," she quickly explains, putting a hand on her hip in annoyance.
you roll your eyes, "the entire campus is getting fucking raided, for god's sake. cmon, dina."
"so, what? not everyone's a dumbass like that kid was."
you sigh. you guess she's right. plus, more business for you in the long run. she gives some information about this girl; her names ellie. she's a sophomore majoring in astrophysics who transferred from another school in jackson. around 5'5, auburn hair, science nerd. "pretty sure she's gay, too," dina winks.
you roll your eyes once more before pulling out and returning home. as soon as you unlock the door and step in, you check your other phone, an unknown number's texts sitting on the lock screen.
[UNKNOWN NUMBER]: hii this is y/n right?
[UNKNOWN NUMBER]: dina gave me ur number
gotta be ellie, you think to yourself. kinda cute. you don't respond; you hate small talk. no point in trying to get to know each other if you already know what they want. you put your phone down and start to get ready for bed.
an hour later, you get out of your shower and into comfy clothes. as you get into your freshly made bed, your other phone buzzes. you would usually ignore it, but you remember; debate checking the message or leaving it alone until tomorrow. eventually, curiosity gets the best of you and you check your phone. you groan as you read the message:
[11:37pm]
EL: i know its late but can u drop off? i need it :(
goddamnit, leave me alone!
you type up some message along the lines of 'im off today, ask tomorrow bitch,' but decide to be nice. you don't know why, but you only respond with the following:
YOU: off today. ask tmr
3 dots in a bubble move swiftly as a response pops up on your screen:
EL: pleaaaaase itll be quick
you sigh. she's not gonna let up; just like dina.
YOU: fine. ill b at the library.
she hearts your message as you throw on some sweatpants and grab your keys. you go on the same drive but you feel no anxiety this time. it's a newbie, for god's sake- she's the one who's probably nervous. you even put on some music this time, drake lowly lulling in your vehicle. you pull up, same spot as earlier, and you turn down your music. you go to text her, but the doors open before you can press a letter. she's just as dina described- until she gets up to your window. her scattered freckles complimented her bright, emerald eyes. her friendly expression made you soft under her gaze. you didn't realized she was talking for a while until she whispered, "uh... hello?"
"what?" you said, clearly perplexed. she smiled as you remembered what you're there for. she hands you 25 bucks as you place the baggie in her free hand. she lets out a silent "thanks" before you get ready to drive back home.
"uh, actually," she suddenly blurted out, catching your attention. she seemed nervous, like she had something to say, but she was scared of the outcome. "do you mind.. uh.. giving me a ride back home? i mean i walked down here and it's dark so-"
"hop in," you interrupted. it was pretty dark and you wouldn't want patrol on her ass about being out by herself, so you decided to get it over with. she pranced around to the passengers side and practically jumped in.
the ride to her dorm was quiet. ellie was on her phone the entire time; you assumed it was her roommate asking her where she's at. there was a bit of tension you could feel in the air; what type? you couldn't answer that.
coming to a stop at the entrance of her dormitory, she thanked you once again before you prepared to go home yourself.
"you could stay the night," she mumbled, fumbling with the bag in hand.
"what? no- no, i can't do that," you answered. you weren't against staying over, but... going home with someone you literally met an hour ago? absolutely not.
"jus' c'mon. it's late," she insisted, biting her lip anxiously. "plus, i owe you." you sight and give in, turning off the engine and ignition before grabbing your keys and phone and joining her on the walkway. she smiled politely and led you to her dorm.
the entire time you were walking with her, you assessed her appearance in clearer light. her hair was a shaggy cut, parted to the side and tucked behind her ears even though some stray strands still stood. her eyes were welcoming and friendly, giving you a warm feeling of hope. she had a tattoo on her right arm; a fern and a small butterfly. you debate asking her the meaning, but decide against it.
you snap out of your trance when you make it to her door. she unlocks the door and gently pushes it in, leaving room for you to step inside. "come in!"
you take 3 steps inside before you're pushed to the ground and pinned by strong, rough hands. "what the fuc- hey!" you start to shout. you squirm, hopelessly attempting to be freed from the tight grasp of what you thought was a male officer.
"you're under arrest," an unfamiliar, feminine voice states, "for possession and distribution of marijuana. you have the right to remain silent at this time." you see ellie's shoes standing in front of you, silently taunting you as you're handcuffed.
fuck, i should've never trusted her.
you're patted down and escorted to an unmarked car, parked around 30 feet away from your car. the unfamiliar figure is a tall, built woman with a long, blonde braid swinging down her back. her calloused hand grips you tightly as you're being walked. once you reach the vehicle, you're thrown into the back and the door slams in your face. you don't argue or protest; you were caught after one fuck up.
"didn't expect to catch her so easily," ellie brags, slightly looking back at you. you scowl at her, feeling betrayed by not only ellie, but dina, too. she had [hopefully] unknowingly helped them ruin your life. you were for sure not going to be able to finish college now. you wouldn't be able to get a job nice enough to stabilize your life. not to mention the possibility for 5 years of jail time and fees. it all made your head hurt. tears weld up in your eyes as you started to really let reality sink in.
"aw, she's crying," the blonde officer teased, looking at you through the rear-view mirror. you blinked back the tears before spitting out, "fuck you."
"the fuck you just say to me?"
"you heard me; fuck. you."
you could see her jaw clench, her bone well-defined under her skin. "oh, i know you wanna fuck me." a snicker was heard from the auburn girl.
the hell??
it was a weird response, but you decided to play into it. you're already being sent to jail; why not have fun?
"you wouldn't do anything about it if i wanted to anyway."
you saw the blonde's eyes go wide and her jaw drop with disbelief, looking over at her partner. ellie seemed calm, but intrigued by the situation. it was silent, but the way their eyes met was like they were talking through eye contact. ellie tilts her head towards you, signaling something to the other officer. as if she could read her mind, the blonde nods and pulls over to an abandoned alleyway.
"what's going on?" you question, attempting to hide the fear in your voice, but failing miserably. the blonde got out of the car and slammed the door shut as ellie simply answered, "you said we wouldn't do anything, hm?"
a shiver went down your spine as the door to your right opened, the blonde hopping in as you scooted all the way to your left.
"uh-uh, come here," she demanded as her hand wrapped around your neck and dragged you back to her. at this moment, your back rests against her toned thighs, handcuffed hands under your ass, legs laying on the seat.
"you wanna be disrespectful to me and my partner?" she jerks your head up, making you look at her. her sharp features take up your vision as she looks down at you with dark eyes. "you think you were just gonna get away with that? nuh-uh, not on my watch." you take your gaze off her face to read her badge, which reads "ABBY ANDERSON".
you're so focused on abby that you don'r realize ellie is on the other side of you, watching you and abby interact. you feel a sharp object on your jeans, scoring against the material. your head jerks down to see ellie running a pocketknife over your clothed cunt, fear and adrenaline running through you all at once. your breathing picks up speed as she cuts through your jeans, making a hole in the crotch. abby chuckles at your reaction, caressing your face as she coos, "not so tough now, huh?"
you're too caught up in looking at ellie's actions to respond. she puts the knife down, letting a feeling of relief wash over you. she mutters a "fuck it" before placing both hands on either side of the hole she made and ripping your jeans. you gasp, anxiety filling you once more. she smirks up at you, grabbing her knife and running it over your barely covered pussy. she loves the way you try to get away from her knife, silent cries as she gets closer to the meat of your thigh. she slightly cuts into you, small drops of blood racing down your inner thigh. you wince in pain, turning back to abby. "shh, it's okay," she reassures, kissing your sweaty forehead. "just a little cut. you're okay." you feel ellie's warm tongue running over the wound, collecting the red liquid. she kisses near your core, green eyes piercing into you before whispering, "so sweet" and smiling. abby gently kisses you, drawing your attention away from your cut to her and only her. she taps her pointer finger on your chin and whispers "open up", which you obey to. her lips purse together, gathering the liquid in her mouth before a ball of saliva drops into your mouth and onto your tongue. "swallow," she commands, and you close your mouth and swallow it, feeling it slip down your throat. she smiles, tapping your cheek lightly as she praises you. "good girl. she's doing so well, isn't she, el?"
ellie hums, hyper-focused on your pooling pussy. "so wet," she says in awe, "all this gets you off, doesn't it?"
you're oh so needy, cunt begging to be touched in any form. you nod ferociously, whining for any friction on your puffy clit. "you want it, yea? beg for it."
"p-please, ill do anything, just fuck me- ohmygod-" you babble, hips bucking up into ellie's face. she chuckles before looking up to abby, meeting her gaze. "she's been so good for us. give her a lil' reward."
with that, ellie cuts your underwear with one swift movement, completely exposing your pussy to her. she gasps at the sight, glistening skin in the low light. she whispers a spew of curses, spreading you apart as abby kisses you passionately. you moan into the kiss as ellie rubs your bud with her thumb. your noises go straight to her core, making her slightly whimper. she lays a flat tongue on your core, soaking up all of your juices on the pink muscle. abby wraps a firm hand around your throat, restricting airflow enough to make you completely feel ellie on you.
"fuck- oh, my god-" you cry, tears welling up in your eyes once more. the feeling is too much; abby kissing you, ellie eating you out- everything is overstimulating you. ellie smiles against your pussy, sucking on your clit while shoving two fingers in you. you whine and squirm away from her, but her other hand keeps you in place.
"i'm gonna- m'cumming- !!" you breathe, clenching around ellie's long fingers. abby praises you through it; "oh, so good for us, baby." "cum all over her fingers f'me, yes." small kisses are planted on your face once again, soothing you through your orgasm. ellie slowly takes her fingers out with a pop! before shoving one glistening finger into her mouth. she moans at the taste of you, maintaining eye contact with you. "shit, so sweet," she murmurs, looking over at abby. "wanna taste?"
"of course," abby says slyly, glancing over at you before sucking on ellie's middle finger, completely cleaning it off. she moans at the taste, finally letting ellie's middle finger go after a couple of seconds. she pulls you into another sloppy, heated kiss, making you taste yourself on her tongue.
"such a sweet thing," she coos, wiping your face. "too bad we gotta take you in now."
"can't let me off with a warning?"
"we would, but we'd be here for much longer and you'd be more bruised up." abby frowns in a mocking manner.
"so you're taking me in with no pants or underwear?"
"yup. don't underestimate us and, more importantly, don't sell drugs."
a/n: this was so fun to write omg ... part 2 will be coming me thinks
#tlouadditc#abby anderson smut#ellie williams smut#the last of us smut#tlou fic#abby anderson#ellie williams#ellabs#ellabs smut#ellabs x reader#lesbian
898 notes
·
View notes