#c’mon the card even says laid | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

d0youc0py · 2 years ago

Note

Could you do any 141 member (I don’t really care I love them all) comforting civilian!reader while she’s on her period? Like the cramps, nausea, mood swings?

Thanks!

He winced as another pained groan left your lips.

“Pain killers didn’t help?” He frowned. He laid down behind you tucking you against him. He pressed a kiss to the back of your head, his hands pressing down on the heating pad against your stomach. The pressure made you feel better and you softly grabbed his hand and put it under the heating pad, silently asking him to massage your stomach. “I got you.” He pressed another kiss to your shoulder.

“Are you done with your paperwork yet?” You whined.

“Ya, Sweetheart.” He lied. The thought of leaving you alone to suffer on the couch made his stomach turn. “You rest up, now and I’ll fix us some dinner later, yeah?”

“Don’t leave till I fall asleep please.” You requested, scooting closer to him.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He’s literally the dream partner when it comes to this stuff

He has always been a very nurturing person

He has your special week marked on his calendar so he’s never caught off guard if you snip at him or you wake up and need to change the sheets

When he can’t be with you he always ships a care package to your house with all the things you could possibly need (snacks, pads/tampons, medicine, a card saying how much he loves you)

He’s the best honestly

“Kid, open the door!” The door handle jiggled. You splashed cold water over your face trying to calm down, but no matter how hard you tried sobs wracked your body. You blamed the hormones. You and Simon were new in your relationship, about five months in, and you had just recently started spending the night at his place. You always had a plan for what to do if you got your period during the night but you didn’t plan for it to come almost a week early. You woke up feeling a familiar wetness and practically ripped yourself out of Simon’s arms. To make matters worse he had his thigh resting between your legs, meaning- you didn’t even want to say it. You shook the thoughts out of your head.

“Sweetheart, c’mon.” Simon sighed from the other side of the door. “You know what I do for a living, yeah? You think a little blood is gonna scare me off? I find that a bit offensive if I’m being honest.”

“It’s disgusting and embarrassing!” You shouted through your sobs.

“It’s not disgusting.” He shot back. “Whoever made you feel that way is a cunt. And it might seem embarrassing now, but I promise you in a week it’ll make you laugh. Out you come.” He shook the door handle again. He did make you feel better. “There she is.” He whispered. You looked him over, happy he had changed his sleep shorts. A clunky thumb wiped away a few remaining tears.

The man is completely unbothered

You can throw a whole hissy fit and he’ll just ask if you’ve eaten anything today

Bodily fluids don’t faze him at all- you could bleed, vomit and cry all over him and he’d just pat you on the back

He’s still doesn’t always understand how to take care of other people, so if you want/need him to do something all you have to do is ask

He never ever makes you feel bad/embarrassed about anything

“Si, you aren’t going to believe the blood clot that just came out of me.” “I’m proud of you Sweetheart.”

“I just can’t believe he did that to her!” You sobbed, wiping your eyes on your husbands shirt.

“What a bastard.” He growled, wiping a tear from his own eye. He wrapped an arm tighter around you, throwing a few pieces of popcorn into your mouth.

“Get off the screen!” You shouted, throwing a few pieces of popcorn at the TV.

“Ya, fuck off!” Johnny yelled after you tossing a few pieces as well. You both looked at each other before bursting into a giggle fit.

Every time you on your period it seems like Johnny also goes on his

You would think both of you being so emotional would cause problems, but it really makes you feel less alone

He definitely steals higher grade pain meds from the base to help you (Price caught him and started doing it for his own partner)

Absolutely loves to take warm showers with you

This man is also unfazed by bodily fluids ;)

Whenever you feel sick he is on the other side of the door cheering you on

You hated when you got your period and he wasn’t here. It always reminded you of how sucky life was before him and how much spoiled you are now. You pressed yourself deeper into his pillow, inhaling his scent. Your muscles relaxed slightly- but it was nothing compared to the real thing. The pain killers had yet to kick in and your body felt so hot and uncomfortable. Your ears piqued up when you heard the door open.

“Babe?”

“Ky!” You screeched. The ache in your stomach couldn’t stop you from running through the flat to greet him. “What are you doing here? Your not suppose to be home for another two weeks?” You questioned between both of you pressing kisses against each other.

“I can just stay for two days.” He sighed, scooping you up. “I told Cap you weren’t feeling well- and let’s just say being the favorite has its perks.”

If you thought Price was good wait till you meet Kyle He definitely learned it from Price

Total Princess treatment to the max

“Ky, I can tie my shoes.” “Don’t worry bout it love.”

He shows love through acts of service so this is his time to shine ✨

Has a stash of all your favorite snacks/drinks for when the time comes

He usually puts you between his legs and the two of you play video games for the next eight hours- distraction helps take you mind off of the pain

#cod #cod men #d0youc0py #doyoucopy #cod mw2 #cod mwf2 #cod x reader #fluff #sfw #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #cod captain price #kyle gaz garrick #ghost x reader #soap x reader #captain price x reader #gaz x reader #female reader

2K notes · View notes

xximpressions · 4 months ago

Note

can u do another Kelly severide series or even one shot it don’t matter

You know what? Bet 😊👍

Hope

Kelly Severide x reader

Summary: Sometimes, we all need a little hope.

Word Count: 1,289

A/N: Thanks for sending in this request! It was the motivation I needed to start writing again and I couldn't be more grateful 💜

Chicago Fire Masterlist

_____________________________________________________________

It was just another day for those privileged enough to work at Firehouse 51.

Some members of Truck 81 were looking over and inspecting equipment. Those on Ambulance 61 were restocking supplies. Others, like the men of Squad 3, were sitting at their infamous table playing cards because there was a lull in between calls. Since the alarm had not gone off in a while, they were looking for a way to pass the time.

It truly would have been a day like any other, if not for the fact that you had just walked onto the apparatus floor minutes into their first game.

Squad 3’s Lieutenant, Kelly Severide, was forced to become curious enough to lower his cards and turn in his green chair in order to see what, or rather who, had inspired the various and amazed expressions on his men’s faces.

You had taken the last few steps to stand directly in front of their table, and you locked your gaze with the blue-eyed stranger once he had rotated around in his chair.

It was at that moment in which Kelly understood.

Simply put, you were beautiful.

As he tried to process the unexpected sight your arrival had created, you smiled and began to speak before he was prepared for you to do so.

“Hi, I’m here to see Chief Boden.”

You, and the rest of Squad 3, watched as their lieutenant unconsciously stared at you whilst being at a loss for words.

Unaware of his speechlessness, you waited another moment before following your previous statement up with,

“...Would you be able to tell me where I might find him?”

While looking expectedly at Kelly.

That seemed to snap him out of his trance long enough for him to give you the directions you were asking for.

Once you had thanked him, you continued on your way into the building oblivious to the eyes that followed.

However, once the door shut behind you, all eyes shifted to the Squad Lieutenant.

“So, Severide…” began Capp with an amused smirk on his face, “What was that about?”

Picking up and focusing on his cards once more in order to avoid the staring of his men,

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Was all Severide said as an evasive response.

After sharing humored looks of disbelief with his fellow colleagues around the table, Cruz decided to be the one to redundantly clarify,

“C’mon Lieutenant! I have never seen anyone make you go speechless like that.”

Wanting to discuss anything but this, Kelly all but growled out,

“Look, are we gonna play or not?”

His men quickly shared another glance amongst themselves before agreeing to drop the subject.

While the card game did continue, it now felt distracting as Kelly kept flickering his eyes to the door you had gone through as more time passed.

Because now, his mind wanted to focus on the kindness of your gaze.

The sincerity of your smile.

He knew, with absolute certainty, that these things would be forever imprinted in his mind even if he never laid his eyes on you again.

So it could be that he was getting antsy the longer you were having your conversation with the Chief because he definitely wanted a second chance at saying more than a few stuttered words to you.

Unfortunately, the odds were not in his favor as the alarm finally blared overhead for the first time in hours.

“Truck 81, Squad 3, Ambulance 61, car accident at…”

Racing from their chairs towards their trucks, Squad 3, along with the rest of the house, hustled into their turnout gear and pulled off once everyone was seated inside their respective vehicles.

As the firetruck exited the driveway, Kelly’s quick glance into the sideview mirror on the passenger-side made him do a double-take as he caught a quick glimpse of you.

Having exited the firehouse with the Chief following just behind, Severide watched as you two shared a brief hug before you each said your departures which sparked his curiosity all the more.

Whoever you were, it was clear that his hope for a conversation would not be met on this day as the truck turned and sped off towards their destination.

Not wanting to dwell on the missed opportunity for too long, Severide looked forward in his seat and readied himself to handle the accident that was just ahead.

Luckily, there hadn’t been any serious damage done, so no one was hurt. That being said, the rest of the hours in the shift passed by relatively quickly once they returned to the house.

His two days off also breezed by, and soon he was once again seated in the briefing room on another Monday morning with Chief Boden making announcements and giving updates.

“...and finally,” he said in his gruff voice, “I would like to introduce you all to someone who’s going to be spending some time with us here at 51.”

Following the hand gesture Chief made signaling this someone over, Kelly’s eyes almost doubled in size when he recognized the mysterious person as you.

You were the one from last shift!

So surprised, Severide almost missed the reason for your being here as you began to speak.

“Hey everyone! I'm a contractor with the CFDs public relations team, and it’s my job to make you guys look as great as possible in the content we’ll be creating. That said, I’ll be taking some videos and photographs as I shadow you guys for a few shifts. So don’t mind me! I’ll be so invisible, you won’t even notice that I’m here,” you finished with an assured smile.

Kelly’s mind couldn’t help but to immediately disagree since he knew noticing you seemed to be all he could do at this moment in time.

Luckily, Boden started to wrap up the meeting by sending a brief thanks your way then also made sure to say,

“I expect all of you to treat our guest with the utmost respect. Her father and I go way back, so if there’s resistance of any kind, you will hear from me.”

Though your smile was a little more bashful now, you still took the time to say—to the room’s surprise,

“Thanks, Uncle Wallace.”

Sending a paternal grin your way, he easily replied,

“Anytime,” with a small nod before he turned back to the rest of the room and said, “Any questions?”

Of course, it had to be Herrman who raised his hand with a look of confusion on his face to ask the one question they were all thinking in a flabbergasted tone of voice,

“Ummmm…Uncle?!?”

Letting out an amused chuckle, you decided to be the one to answer for the both of you.

“Yes, Chief is actually my Godfather. That’s why your firehouse is the first one that I’m shadowing since I know he runs a tight ship. Like he said, he and my father go way back, so I’ve known him since I was a baby—

“—which makes her family,” Boden interjected with a note of amused, but serious finality before saying, “Understood?”

He sent his commanding gaze around the room to ensure his point got across and was met with multiple affirmings of,

“Yes Chief!”

“Then thank you all for your time this morning. That’s it for today’s briefing.”

Kelly was the first out the door once the meeting had concluded. Making it to the safety of the bathrooms, he hunched over the sink as he was hit with the startling realization that:

A) He had a crush!?

And B) It was on someone his boss saw as his niece!

Making eye contact with himself in the mirror, he had one thought going around in his head,

“Man, I am so screwed.”

#kelly severide fanfic #kelly severide x oc #kelly severide fanfiction #kelly severide imagine #kelly severide x reader #chicago fire #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire fanfiction #chiacgo fire imagine #chicago fire fanfic

81 notes · View notes

inkyquince · 6 days ago

Text

Taking His Prize

characters. Wren (Degrees of Lewdity)

cw. fem reader, forced eye contact, dirty talk, tit fucking, mentions about anxiety around virginity loss.

notes. A lovely flash commission! Wanted Wren to go insane over a chubby fem reader and that was fuckin' FUN!

You were playing badly. Well, that was unfair. At this stage of knowing you but not quite knowing you, not wholly, you proved yourself to be quite adept at most things. Dancing at Darryl’s club, picking the odd pocket, making friends with the least reputable men in town and somehow surviving with a sparkling reputation. Of course, it depended on who was asked. For some you’re the sweet orphan that makes the best of what she’s got. Others might say you're a delicious cut of meat, deeply fuckable, even though no one has gotten a taste. As far as Wren knows.

As for his own opinion? No one has made him harder quicker than you have. Should be embarrassing, like a school boy seeing the curve of a budding breast for the first time. In his defence, he was three shots deep and has been idly pawed at by another stripper. Poor girl never stood a chance when you started dancing. She cooed at his cock straining to attention against his trousers but she had nothing to do with it. Your tits were spilling out of your bra, your soft thighs squeezed the pole, all the while maintaining perfect balance in your heels. Waving her off, instead he crooked his finger at you, calling you down.

It was the only lap dance Wren could really tattoo to his brain.

Rolling your hips, your tits pressed against his chest, humping your crotch against his. He could feel the heat.

But that was months ago and ever since then he made it a part of his schedule to meet you again and again, even to have a quick drink at the bar before your shift. Wren loved to tease you, hoping to slip you into bed with him with the right amount of pretty words, but you just smiled and waved him off. Your reputation preceded you perfectly. Sweet, clever and deeply virginal.

And now you are here. And you were losing. Which was odd.

Wren wasn’t complaining by any long shot, not at all. Your shoes were the first to go, then your socks. He was irked a bit at the realisation you were wearing mittens but another part of him purred. Smart little thing. Then the jacket, the over-shirt, your trousers, leaving you in the most lovely stockings, underwear, tank top and bra. He could feel himself getting stiff just at the sight. He’d had seen you in less clothing that this countless times, grabbing your ass and pressing you down to grind against him, even if you only allowed it after he pressed his crumpled notes down your panties first but just the sight of your lovely tits, your soft thighs, your adorable fuckin’ tummy had him excited.

Maybe more so since you had… Agreed, quite readily, to the rules of the game.

You win, he has to hand over two of his paychecks and cause a commotion around Remy’s place, which definitely would fuck him up in the farmer’s books for weeks. But, it would be worth it. Because if he wins, he gets to fuck you.

The promised virgin of the Town. All for him.

Were the stakes for you so high to do this? Or maybe you had a cute little crush on him and you would lie awake at night, fingers deep in your sticky cunt and whine out his name… Probably not.

But there were worse men to be… Broken in by.

So Wren bided his time at the table, losing his shirt on purpose, he swears. He could tell you didn’t mind the show, all in all.

“C’mon, Doll.” He stretched, making sure that your eye would be drawn to his broad shoulders and chest. “You’ve been clinging to those cards like they’ll change if you show enough tit.”

You kicked him under the table and he chuckled, reaching down with his hand to grab your ankle and give it a squeeze. You didn’t rip from his grip, which he liked. Instead he lifted your heel and placed it between his knees on the edge of the chair. Safe and sound.

You laid down your hand with a sigh after a beat.

“I know, I know,” You rolled your eyes, before gripping the edges of your tank top and pulling it over your head. “Everything beats double two’s.”

Wren’s grin didn’t falter, it just froze for a moment before somehow growing wider. You cheating little bitch. His own gaze flickered to his cards. A two and a seven, not good but still would beat your feeble cards. But it just happened that his two of hearts matched your two of clubs. Both pitchblack. You were losing on purpose.

“Conniving little…” He murmured, low, under his breath.

You still heard it though and froze under his hungry gaze, leaning forward to drop your shirt by your shoes. It gave him a beautiful view of your full tits, just about spilling out of your bra, the fabric unable to cover anymore of the cleavage.

“Unless I accidentally used the pack I used to cheat at blackjack with Remy, I don’t think there can be two pairs of blackened hearts, can there?”

Your lips parted. Pink tongue flicked against your bottom teeth.

“Really? Can’t believe you fucked our game up like this.” You spoke once more after a beat. ��For shame. That must lose you your trousers at least.”

Wren chuckled, unable to fight back the laughter that came from witnessing your smart ass-ery. He pretended to play along, popping open the top button of his jeans before pausing, pressing his index finger against his chin in faux-puzzlement.

“That is an excellent point,” He hummed. “Except… Remy confiscated that pack when he figured it out. In fact, I’m pretty sure he fed them to a horse he didn’t really like.”

You froze up again, smug little smile sliding off your face for just a moment.

“Then… You win by default?” You ventured, thumb hooking into the edge of your patterned stocking.

“Not just that. I demand compensation for my pride and my shaken belief in your honesty.”

You had already learned what men, tricky, powerful, greedy men, usually wanted as “re-compensation”. A broken bone, half a thousand pounds more in rent, forced to do tasks too demeaning for words. Yet this… This was something new.

Wren’s fat cock slowly gliding between your breasts, still stuffed into your bra, excessively lubed up, with the head constantly nearly nudging your bottom lip with each stroke. One hand cupping your breast, the other tucked inside to tug and twist at your nipple. You could feel his full balls, dragging against your chest with each thrust. But you weren’t allowed to look down, watch the hypnotising spectacle of him using your tits to get him off. No, he made sure you knew he wanted you to keep looking directly at him, his lips slightly parted, exhaling slowly.

The sound was wet, sloppy, and deeply indecent. But wasn’t this a part of the reason you picked him? Not just because it would have been safe, good. A proper man to lose your virginity wouldn't be violent, or cruel, like it would have been if it had gone to a beast like Bailey, or Whitney. But because it would be so fucking good. You could tell from his demeanour, his flirting, the way he looked at you. If you wanted just safe, just alright, then you’d have picked Robin, or asked Darryl for a one night stand.

His thrusts increased in tempo, precum smearing along your skin. With each nudge, Wren groaned and you couldn’t help but moan as an answer, from just the sensation.

“Always wanted to fuck these pretty tits.” He huffed out, taking a moment to grin and lightly slap your bra, making your breasts bounce a bit.

You didn’t even get a chance to whine, or tell him off before he slipped his cock free from your garment, using his other hand to rip the fabric open, revealing your chest to him finally. He ducked his head, pulling you in close by your waist to latch his mouth onto your nipple, spending a good moment teasing and sucking.The sensation was dizzying, unbearably so, but also so warm, so hot, so good that when he pulled away soon after, you couldn’t help but whine.

“Nuh uh, none of that.” Wren gripped your thighs and lifted you onto the table, scattering both his legitimate cards and your counterfeit pack to the floor. His cock pressed against the wet spot on your underwear, squishing indecently. “Not when I’m about to fuck your virginity from you.”

#wren the smuggler #flash commission #dol #nsft #quincewrites #degrees of lewdity

50 notes · View notes

sherwees · 1 year ago

Text

cuddle-fuck-later-with-a-side-dish

cw : past arguments,dubcon reaching into noncon bcs of the manipulation part of it , mentions of abuse, reader has cuts and scratches previously inflicted on their body, and just straight fucked shit.

Hendery gawked at you and your boyfriend, Eunseok as he shuffled the uno cards in his hands nearly giving himself a paper cut from his aggression.

This was meant to a friends night not a cuddle-fuck-later-with-a-side-dish night.

He didn't care before but now it was getting to his head, he never even realized he was staring too long until he met with Eunseok's glare.

“Do you have a staring problem, Kunhang?” He ended with a laugh and a punch to his shoulder, he wasn't truly irritated until you joined in with your ugly little high pitched scream-like laughter. It sounded really forced, fucking attention seeking bitch.

Eunseok only said his real name for satirical reasons, did he think that he was a joke?

Some type of fucking loser?

You both didn't even see him as a real friend anymore.

“I'm just wondering when you both would talk to me. It was meant to be a group– hangout.” He hung on the word ‘group’ a bit as his crude eyes only met your own, not that same soft brown from when you first met him only 2 years ago.

“Aye, there's no need to be low. You could even join in.” He snickered and attempted to punch your shoulder but you flinched; fuck he was going to get you for that.

Now, you could only stare at Hendery, focused on shuffling the cards with his skilled fingers as you thought about what you did only a few minutes earlier and the future. Your arms crossed against your chest as your back seeked comfort on the couch behind you.

You felt relieved, there was a sudden buzzing beside you from the couch cushion, Eunseok's light brown strands tickle your nose as he reaches over to grab his phone.

“Ah, babe I gotta take this.” He leaves a fleeting peck on your lips, he then fleeted to a vacant room and unintentionally slammed a random door. He hollers a “sorry”, at least.

“Why are you so silent, _______?” His tone seemed slightly sarcastic and held no sort of concern to it, it almost held a secret scorn to it.

“I'm just.. sorry..? For everything I've done." You can't even look him in the eye. You don't even say it as a statement either, it was more of a question. You don't intentionally leave him out, he just doesn't talk. When you even confront him, he just denies it and runs away.

He was very.. passing for a person.

“For all those times, you left me out in the cold for hours because of Eunseok, the times where you would put your anger all against me. Why don't you ever consider my feelings?” His arms slowly wrap around your waist with a uncomfortable squeeze, he laid his chin on your collarbone; his breath fanning your neck. The warmth of his lap brings you a sordid comfort as you laid snug against him, your breath following the rhythm of is.

“But Eu-”

You flinched as he raises a finger to your lips but then places a sudden chaste kiss, causing you to yank your head away.

“I raise a single finger and you could only flinch away from your true love..” His hand lowers to your inner thigh with a sigh, you could only melt into his touch as he raved on and on into your ear about your ‘fucked up’ relationship whilst he feverishly grinds his hot erection on the curvature of your ass.

He might be correct about your own beloved boyfriend..

All those nights that ended with glass shards either stuck in a cut, on the ground, the bruises on your waist from the times he would pound you on your kitchen counter for hours; ignoring your pleas to stop just because you burnt the peas.

“C’mon and I'll treat you right once and for all? You could trust me right?” He reassured in your ear whilst he fiddled with the waistband of his black cargo pants with a lazy smirk.

You could only whimper a weak yes until he slapped your thigh with a bite at your neck, raising your tone into a scream.

“That's more like it..” He manages to tug his pants down as he gracefully lays you down on his white rug, you could feel your jean skirt slightly bunch. A smile tugs at his lips as your hands immediately attempt to cover the nature of the cuts on your thigh. Your eyes gather with tears once more as he traces your half healed scars with his finger; some blood even caked up on his tip.

“Kunhang, stop.” You squeaked but he only continued, a smile accumulating on his face.

You felt the bile raise in your throat once he swirled a crimson heart on your thigh, the disgust urked you enough to slap his hand away. You were quick to maneuver yourself on your elbows, Hendery's expression turned stoic just as quickly once he landed a harsh slap to your face.

“How fucking dare you?” He practically spat in your face.

“You're fucking crazy, Kunhang!” You attempted to yell but it came out as scratchy, it made you seen weaker as always. Managing to stand with the support of the couch, the pain of your scabs shot down your legs.

“Now I understand why he beats your fuckin’ ass, you stubborn little slut.”

His words shot deep into your soul, you felt choked up from the harshness. Your felt the spit accumulate in your mouth, your lips quivered, you couldn't cry..

“Whatever, I'm finding Eunnie, I'll give you a moment.” You attempt to muster a mature tone even though you used his cutesy nickname but it only comes up as a weak whisper when you shove past Hendery. You heard hurried footsteps behind you but you didn't bother as you muttered all types of curses under your breath. I mean what type of friend fucking does that?

You could only wince as you felt a brute force pin your face against the cold wall, you felt the warm bump of Hendery's erection against your lower back.

“Maybe you could muster up a little nickname for me too, yknow?” He tutted, you could imagine the smirk across his face.

He reached for the button of your skirt as he shoved it off once he heard the clean pop of it as you writhed, attempting to escape.

“Sweetheart, your stubbornness is the main reason why males like him beat on ya’, listen to me and it wouldn't be a problem.” You felt him rub his leaking tip against your unexpecting hole, causing a full twitch in your lower region and you could only grip and grab behind you for his shirt for leverage.

You cried out from the sudden stretch of his girthy cock in your clenched hole, you nearly pushed him out with aid of your slick but it only made him push harder.

“So fuckin’ tight.” He huffed into your neck as his hands found refuge around your waist with a squeeze. His member pulsated and stretched your hole out with every pound, his tip constantly hit your cervix as you ached.

Your cries only sounded like a melody to him and it only brought him closer to release. He then craned his neck to leave bites and hickeys along your the supple skin as you squealed and your legs only clenched together attempting to slow his harsh thrusts. Your ears were burning in embarrassment of the sounds that emitted out of you along with the sounds of his balls clapping against your wet heat along with the slick friction of his girth in your hole. You tuned it out but it only made you realize,

Eunseok was only in the other room... finishing his said call from earlier.

Your head wildly snapped back, attempting to blink your tears away, you scream whispered: “Hendery please!” you worried your lip between your teeth. In an attempt to nudge him away with your ass, he stilled for a second; giving you a sense of relief but only for a second once he slapped the back of your thigh.

“You want me so fuckin’ bad princess, m’ close and you're gonna take it all, alright?” His rasp grunt echoed through your empty head as he set an inhumane pace that'll leave your hole sore for who knows how long, his damp bangs feathering your jaw.

You stumbled over your words as you tried to warn him but the only thing you got in return was the feeling of his warm seed infiltrating your hole and the sound of a door opening.

part 2

#kpop smut #nct smut #smut #wayv smut #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #hendery smut #eunseok smut #riize smut #riize scenarios #eunseok scenarios #hendery scenarios #hendery #eunseok #riize fanfic #wayv fanfic #nct fanfic

187 notes · View notes

maidflowery · 9 months ago

Text

Fortified Wager ♤♤♤ 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 1

♦︎♦︎ Aventurine x Reader ♦︎♦︎ 𝕀𝕝𝕝𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕

🄱🄰🄲🄺 🅃🄾 【Ｐｒｏｌｏｇｕｅ】

𝕋𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕠𝕗 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥

𝗔𝗺𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺, 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗺𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗰𝗿𝗼𝘀𝘀 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺—𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗱 𝗴𝘂𝘆 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁—𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲. 𝗟𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗹𝗲𝗱, 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗿, 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗳𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗻𝗲𝗼𝗻 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀. 𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗲. 𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗸. 𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝗹𝗱.

╔══ ≪ ♤♤♤ ≫ ══╗

Yours was a meeting not meant to be.

“—Should we check out that famous nightclub, Primavera?”

It all began when your friends invited you for a night out.

“C’mon, we should let loose! Our finals just wrapped up today!”

Your friend smiled at you, pleading with her gaze.

Inside, your introverted self and your wallet were screaming, ‘nooo!’

“Sure.” You answered.

Truthfully, you only really tagged along after they promised to treat you. Who could say no to free food, especially from such an exclusive place?

Not you, definitely.

Besides, you’d never gone to a nightclub before.

The moment you set foot inside, you were overwhelmed by the dazzling neon lights and blaring loud music.

Your friends immediately stepped into the dance floor, having the time of their lives, and you followed suit. Only for a bit.

You decided you had enough of brushing and stumbling against total strangers, on top of performing a series of stiff movements that outclassed even a robot, and went to see what the bar had to offer.

...Or more like, what your part-timer, broke ass college student wallet allowed you to have.

Because it was a regular weekday, the bar wasn’t overly crowded, you sat on one of the bar stools. The nice bartender asked for your order. It wasn’t every day that you get to sit in such a fancy place, so you ordered something daring.

Before long, your colorful, alcoholic beverage made its way to you in a tall glass, with a cute tiny umbrella on the side.

As bold as you were, you were still sane, so instead of downing it in one go, you took a little sip through the straw.

It tasted sweet at first, yet left a bitter aftertaste—not that you minded.

You took more small sips, drowning out the booming music with your thoughts, which was becoming increasingly difficult with the next table hosting its own party.

Out of curiosity—and slight annoyance—you sneaked a glance, wanting to see what the fuss was about.

The next table was surrounded by a bunch of dapper men dressed in well-tailored suits. Since their attire all had something in common, you concluded that it was a uniform of some kind. They were probably employees from the same company.

Cards and chips were scattered on the table.

You could tell what they were doing at a glance.

Inwardly, you grimaced in disapproval.

Then again, you were in a nightclub. What did you expect? A group of men holding candles as they recited a prayer for a sacred mass?

Among them, two men were sitting across from each other. The moment you laid eyes on one of them—the blond guy on the right—you momentarily forgot how to breathe.

Locks of his tousled, blond hair, which flowed to his nape, shimmered under the flashing neon lights. Sometimes blue. Sometimes pink. Sometimes gold.

His purplish, cyan eyes were serene, devoid of any worries. A smile tugged at his supple lips as he casually glanced at his cards.

If not for those around him, you’d have believed that he had emerged the victor.

However, seeing how fervently those across him were booing him, and in turn, cheered for the other guy... Right, the other guy, that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

As for those on his side, at first, it may seem as if they were smiling, but it didn’t take long for you to realize that they were sneering.

It was as if they only stood there to laugh at the blond man’s cards and berate him for it.

How did you know that?

By that point, as the game between the two gentlemen grew more heated, more and more people started to gather around them, forming a crowd.

A sneak peek wouldn’t hurt.

As such, you, with your now neglected drink, scooted over to the table.

That was how some of their gleeful conversations reached your ears.

“...His luck has run out.”

“Seems like it.”

“He can only pray that Mr. Duane will show him some mercy, which I doubt will happen, since he’s been eyeing that position for a while.”

...Which wasn’t the kind of tea you’d expect from such a settlement, but okay.

‘Avgin’? Is that his name?

But why does it sound familiar...

You glanced at the other guy—the supposed ‘Mr. Duane’—right as he stood up with both hands on the table, leaning over the blond man as if looking down on him.

“—Good luck on not ending up in a ditch somewhere tomorrow! You should’ve agreed to let me take over when I was still being nice!”

His breath reeked of alcohol. Gross. Make senses, looking at all the champagne glasses strewn around his side of the table. As for his looks, it was ehh, compared to the guy who sat across from him, he was just—

“—What’s the hurry? The night has just begun.”

The instant that carefree yet melodious voice entered your ear, you forgot everything else as tension left your body. Only then did you realize that you were gripping your glass tightly.

A second later, it dawned on you how absurd it was.

What on earth were you doing?

These gentlemen were wearing custom-tailored uniforms studded with authentic jewels, sipping glass after glass of premium wine, so they probably had a high-profile job.

What they had squandered, they could easily recover tomorrow.

As for you, you only had the remaining hours of today before returning to the college grind tomorrow. It would be best for you to leave that silly little show behind.

“If you know what’s best for you, you’ll forfeit this game!”

In contrast to Mr. Duane, who was getting riled up for some reason, the blond stranger was relaxed.

“But why? Didn't you say you'd show me the ropes? Is this all you've got? Just when things were starting to get fun...”

See? Even the blond gentleman himself is unfazed. He acts like a child whose toy was taken away!

Therefore, this has to be a game.

A game with no real stake...

“—You damned Avgin! Let's see if you can still smile when I charge you with scamming the IPC and have you shot on the spot!”

You were about to turn on your heels when Mr. Duane spat out those words.

It was at that moment when you learned that 'Avgin' wasn’t just any name, but more of a derogatory slur, and that these people were chastising him for reasons beyond just being dealt a bad hand.

...Then again, rich people were just messed up like that.

It had nothing to do with you.

Those behind the blond man began to pile on him.

“Hey, if you beg, you might still be able to work for us...”

So what if losing would cost him more than just a few bucks?

“We all know it’s a harsh world for an Avgin out there. Don’t be so stubborn.”

So what if no one was really on his side?

“Your arrogance will be the end of you...”

So what if everyone was secretly hoping for his defeat all along?

Gambling’s stupid anyway!

You were getting worked up for no reason!

He was a grown man! He was perfectly capable of standing up for himself! Instead of shrugging those hurtful comments off with a smile... A smile so sad.

You tried to collect yourself. You didn’t understand where all of these emotions were coming from. Besides your own sense of self-righteousness and newfound attachment towards that dangerously handsome stranger, of course.

The situation was steadily worsening for the blond gambler, evident from the mounting pile of chips on the other guy’s side of the table.

Mr. Duane laughed out loud while his buddies snickered behind him. Those who stood behind the blond gambler were grinning. As for the blond man himself, he was staring listlessly at his cards for some reason, with an empty smile plastered across his face.

His wrist was hanging powerlessly, seemingly ready to drop what little was left of his cards and throw the game.

Did all of those offensive remarks finally get to him?

Seeing that, something inside you fell, and a bleak gasp escaped your lips.

...No way.

Only then did you realize it.

Deep down, were you hoping for him to win all along?

You clenched your fists.

As the sudden realization hit you, Mr. Duane and his cronies started pestering him again.

“There’s no harm in giving up, you know.”

“Sometimes you just have to accept defeat.”

At that moment, quietly, sincerely, you prayed in your heart—

“—SHOW THEM!! SHOW THEM WHAT YOU GOT!! DON’T LOSE!!”

Please win.

...Or at least, that was how it was supposed to be, until your mouth decided to outrun your heart.

Alcohol. It was the alcohol’s fault.

You were frozen in place, reeling from the embarrassment.

It went without saying that you successfully garnered the attention of those around you, and above all, of the pair of cyan layering on violet eyes.

They were widened in shock as the owner turned around in your direction.

It's unclear whether he caught sight of you, as by that point, you had already run away as fast as you could.

Not going back to that nightclub for a second time was pretty much a certainty by that point, and not because of financial constraints.

🂡 🂠 🂣 🂠

...Apparently, the blond gambler did win in the end.

Once again, how did you know this?

...It went without saying that you couldn’t just gallop out of a nightclub with their cocktail glass still in hand. The bartender wouldn’t let you.

Also, during your panic moment, you unlocked a certain skill and somehow managed not to spill the drink, so the glass was still half-full. You couldn’t just leave your drink unfinished. The fact that you spent a huge chunk of your salary as a part-timer to buy it wouldn’t let you.

However, just as you went right back inside, a familiar guy hurried past you.

It was none other than Mr. Duane. He was fuming as he made big strides towards the exit. Considering that he was alone, it seemed that his coworkers were left behind.

It wasn’t difficult for you to get the full story, because by the time you returned to the bar section, the blond gambler had become the talk of everyone there, if not the entire nightclub. Of course, the game was long over.

Nevertheless, the winner wasn’t quite what everyone expected.

Yes, it wasn’t Mr. Duane, but Aventurine.

Aventurine.

You let that name roll over your tongue a few times.

Still, that wasn’t the end of it.

There was a foul play.

Mr. Duane was cheating. and the game itself was rigged in his favor. The guy even paid the dealer. In short, everything was an elaborate setup to get this Aventurine guy to surrender his position.

The fact that he still loses, though...

Well, now that everything was settled, Mr. Duane did sound like the whole circus, but that wasn’t what everyone was focusing on.

Apparently, as difficult as it was to believe, the setup was just THAT elaborate and Aventurine really, really wasn’t supposed to win.

He only did because he beat the guy at his own game.

No matter how perfect the plan was, Mr. Duane himself wasn’t impervious to making mistakes.

As Mr. Duane got one step closer to victory, he became more and more cocky, which resulted in a blunder and ultimately, his downfall.

Thus, Aventurine made a name for himself.

Hearing that, the cocktail you were sipping suddenly became all the sweeter.

Best night ever.

...Although, if you had one complaint...

“Congratulations, Mr. Aventurine! We know you’d win!”

“We always believe in you, Mr. Aventurine!”

Standing just a few seats away from you was the champion himself, along with his ‘entourage.’

What a bunch of suck-ups.

Yes, said ‘entourage’ was none other than those guys who were wishing for his defeat earlier.

Now that Aventurine had secured his position, the same couldn’t be said about them. After all, they did diss him, hence the ass-kissing.

You unconsciously sipped your drink faster.

Shameless. Utterly shameless, a bunch of them.

In fact, some who were standing quite nearby were still badmouthing Aventurine, being self-conscious enough to lower their voices.

You didn’t miss them, though.

“...He’s so full of himself.” One of them said.

“Yeah, smug bastard. He makes me sick.” Another replied.

...Well, as they say, loser talk.

All’s well that ends well.

Those were your most recent recollections of that bittersweet night.

╚══════╝

🄾🄽🅆🄰🅁🄳 🅃🄾 【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ　２】

#aventurine fanart #honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine #aventurine x you #aventurine x y/n #aventurine honkai star rail #fanfic #fanart #hsr fanart #hsr x reader #star rail aventurine #aventurine hsr #fortifiedwagerfic

102 notes · View notes

ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 8 months ago

Text

Bubble Baths and Blisters (John Price x Escort!Reader)

Part of the Purchase Your Time Universe

Summary: It's clear John doesn't take care of himself when he's at work, so you'll just have to do it while he's home.

Content warning: References to sexual content (erections, reader is a sex worker) Minors DNI/18+ only! 2.8k words

Masterlist

This driver didn’t speak to you at all on the drive to your meeting. You preferred it that way, curating your message to your friend with the address you spied in the SatNav.

At the front desk, you collected the key card then made your way into the elevator. Your new bag wheeled in behind you, a larger one to fit potential outfits you’d need in the coming days requested by your benefactor. It barely clipped your heel as you twisted around to select your designated floor. Muzak was your companion on the walk down to your room; you knocked three times and counted to four in time with it. The keycard found the slot in the door easily. It granted you entry to the room.

Already, the purple patterned wallpaper and sleek grey furnishings appeased your materialistic side. But it was the pair of shoes unaligned by the door and the outfit laid out on the bed that called you inside.

At the sound of a shuffle through the wall, you spoke, “John?”

“Just coming,” was your reply, accompanied by the flush of a toilet and a splash in a sink.

Upon the instant John emerged from the bathroom, you noticed the cut on his right cheek. It was wide enough to require tape stitch closures and thin enough to only have a few causes behind its creation. Your hands found John’s face.

“What happened?” You said, almost whining at him, as if he’d gotten hurt on purpose.

John attempted to wave you off, “Nothing serious, I’m fine.”

Still, you fawned over him a little longer, leading him over to the bed so you could get a closer look – and the longer you looked, the more you found to worry over. Split skin on his knuckles, semi scabbed over, worried you more than the bruise blooming beneath them. Those valleys of cuts scarcely healed were bound to welcome infection like a bellboy would a hotel guest.

Only reason you stopped was because John clasped around your wrists like the prettiest bracelets and squeezed so that your hands stopped using his jaw to tilt his head about for inspection.

“I’m okay,” He said, his voice firm but his eyes soft, for your benefit no doubt, and you felt the overwhelming desire to trust him. He’d make one hell of an actor.

For now, you switched to a neutral subject.

“Went all out on the room this time, didn’t you?”

“My colleague says I need to learn to relax. Thought this might inspire that.”

You cottoned on with a grin, “That’s why I’m here, right?”

A wince wrinkled John’s expression, and you were not sure if the cause was an injury or the comment, but the fact that he even let slip a reaction at all told you all you needed to know about his current state. Getting this man to relax and recuperate was your new goal.

“I thought maybe we could-” You stopped, watching John cringe again, this time pushing on his knees as he went to stand. Forgetting about your fancy clothes in your suitcase, you jumped with your gut instinct: “Let me run you a bath.”

“I didn’t call you here so you could watch me soak in my own filth.”

“You’re not that dirty.” John squinted at your through suspicious slitted eyes at your comment whilst you continued, “Besides, it’ll help you unwind, and we’ll have time after. C’mon, let me. Please.”

Begging was not something you did without being paid for it, hence why you were completely fine whipping out the puppy dog eyes now. With faux resignation, John acquiesced and, within the minute, you were filling the bath with all the bubble bath you could find, having demanded he get undressed whilst you prepare his tub.

As you swished through the water, blending the two temperatures into a pleasantly hot sting, John poked his head into sight. His naked arm pressed the door against him in case it decided to reveal more of him to you. A tattoo of a dagger speared through his bicep like it was still lodged into a slot made of skin. You stood quickly; the rush of blood from your head made you wobble and John made a move, revealing a hint of his chest to you.

“Normally, I’d light some candles, really set the mood,” You said just as fast as you’d stood. “Want me to turn around?”

Despite him shaking his head, as you “sorted” through bottles of body wash, you still glanced far enough away that his nude body was in your peripheral, blurred in your blind spot as he sank beneath the water and hid himself beneath the bubbles as much as possible. More tattoos masked beneath body hair like brick walls behind ivy vines, some linework slashed apart or speckled with more scars than there were bubbles in the tub, forming constellations. Other bruises of varying purples were contrasted by tape and gauze on his lower left shoulder. John remained upright, his back straight and arms balance on the tub’s rim. He shot you a look that told you not to linger on his injuries.

You ignored it, “Glad to see you at least went to a doctor before calling me.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“I dread to think. Can I wash your hair?”

John hesitated for a split second: “Sure.”

You took one from the pair of drinking glasses beside the sink, scooping up bathwater and swiping the excess bubbles from the top. As you carefully tilted John’s head back, your hand defending his brow from any stray droplets, you made sure your touch didn’t cross paths with the string of numbers tattooed right above the top of his spine. The skin there was marred and raised; whoever tattooed it was not kind with their equipment.

Water slicked down John’s hair, then again and again, until hairs clumped together in thicker tresses. Your nails ploughed carefully through after each cupful. One occasion, it narrowly missed a hidden scab, which you added to John’s total of injuries.

A healthy dollop of shampoo was squirted into your palm, pressing it into your other and threading it over your fingers. Foam rose fast; you began to circle it into John’s uneven hair. Over the bubbles popping, you heard the fruits of your recently done-up nails as you scratched them through his head, parting locks like a plough tilling the land. His head rotated on its axis ever-so-slightly as you clenched and tugged on his hair.

As nicely as you could, you pushed on his forehead and received an open eye of curiosity as you tempted him to rest his head back on a folded towel. The eye shut again, satisfied, when youbegan to knead the dough of the fat thinly coating his right shoulder’s muscles. They were like dead roots, reaching far across his body and brittle with age left unchecked. Body wash slicked up the skin to ease your firm touch.

“Your coworker was right; you do need to relax,” You whispered.

“Don’t tell her. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“It can be our secret then.” A firm dig from your thumbs beneath both his shoulder blades resulted in the first groan-gasp combination from John. “Good?”

“Divine. You’d make a great masseuse.”

“I would. But then I wouldn’t get to see you.”

John had already opened his mouth to speak again, but as you massaged parallel lines down his spine, his head drooped, dragging him forward a little so you could reach further, and his chin closed against his chest.

“Yes?” You prompted light-heartedly, only to be met with him groaning again, “That’s what I thought.”

“Cheeky.” Though his tone matched the words, the timbre of his voice was thick, like his vocal chords had been drizzled in honey.

“You love it.”

Refusing to let him slouched for long, you eased him back upright to resume rubbing on his shoulder. Your fingers avoided the bandage on his pectoral as you soaped him up and washed him clean. The barrier of your hand protected the gauze. Surprisingly, you caught John staring a few times, his go-to move to smile and close his eyes whenever you did.

Perched on the rim of the tub, you began to work on his arms. As you circled the tips of his fingers and travelled down each knuckle, John started to pay more attention to you again. Occasionally, you would meet his gaze, not to challenge, just to smile at him and for that smile to grow when you hit a sweet spot that made him grunt and look away first. John kept his hand in your lap whilst you worked on the other one, his thumb rubbing back and forth at the same pace as yours. It left you content to feel the heft of his hand growing as you eased the tension from each tendon. He was trusting you to look after him, giving more and more of himself over.

So it was a risky move to transition your care onto his right foot. Nothing that spelt rejection of this area when you first took the limb from the water, propping it on yet another folded towel at the rim for ease of access. Still nothing from John as you kneaded and pressed. It was only when you were zoned in on his calf that, through gritted teeth, you heard John force out the word:

“Love?”

Your fingers ceased all movement immediately, hands retracing in surrender, because John had never called you that before. Crimson had rushed to his ears beneath the shampoo bubbles. He cleared his throat as you leant your head left in confusion.

Then you saw his cock standing proud and poking out the bubbles. It was hardly the first erection you’d ever seen: pretty impressive, but pretty normal for your work week. You drew your eye away from it easily whilst John attempted to cover his groin up with more bubbles.

You looked back at him, hands back on the rim of the tub, “Do you want me to stop?”

John ground away at the enamel on his teeth whilst he deliberated over his best course of action. His knuckles ripped apart a scab with the grip they had on the rim.

Not wanting to send him off to an emergency dentist or A&E, you offered, “How about I keep going and you tell me when to stop or move on?”

John took a deep breath and spoke in a gruff voice, like the one when he was just waking up, “When I say.”

“Of course.”

He let you get to his knees on both legs before requesting you move on. Message received, you finished up fast and shifted focus on washing the shampoo gently out from his hair. As you rinsed through his hair, you noted that he seemed to have… calmed down. But the opposite effect seemed to have been achieved as a tear rolled down John’s cheek and plinked into the waterline.

You withdrew from him, trying instead to catch his eyeline, “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

But John turned his head with a sniff, water sloshing as he withdrew a hand from the tub to pretend to wipe his nose, no doubt an attempt to remove the stinging sensation in his eyes. However, he was still smiling , close-lipped and slightly strained under his bought of emotion.

“I’m fine,” He muttered, his hand melting beneath the water as he pushed up and down his thigh. You wanted to joke that “I’m fine” should become his catchphrase, but you held off. He was the most open he’d been with you at all, even if he was lying about it.

“Anything I can do?” You asked instead.

Shaking his head, John braced himself on the sides of the tub, “Gonna get out now. Could you…?”

“Sure.”

You practically fled the bathroom in an effort to do what would make him feel comfortable. Water cascading back into the tub echoed off the tiles and into the bedroom whilst you texted your friend to confirm you were still safe.

When he finally came out the bathroom room, steam rolling in like fog over San Francisco, he was cleaning out his ears with a complimentary cotton bud. His eyes held no signs of crying, and you hadn’t heard any further evidence as such, so you felt only a vague sting of guilt for ogling the way he tied his robe, granting you access to follow a stray drop of hair weave its way down through his chest hair.

Determined to let him know you didn’t care about what transpired – except that you wanted him to be okay – you stepped close to him.

“Okay, don’t laugh but I’m begging you to let me at least moisturise your face. It’s gonna crack like dry earth.”

John let out a short laugh as he sauntered over to the bed that clued you in on his answer: he was prepared to humour you. He tossed the cotton bud neatly into the bin – nothing but binbag – and took his seat, once against observing you whilst you gleefully collected your face cream from your bag.

Standing between his legs, you dappled blobs across his face with a practiced fingertip. Stippling across his face displayed the freckles that populated his skin in a flattering light. Working in delicate circles so as not to cause any further damage, you were aware that you were likely pulling weird faces for aid of focus, and you probably had been whilst you were massaging him, but John didn’t react to them besides his slow cat-like blinks that let him pivot his gaze around your face and his hands curving at the tops of your thighs.

Hecaught you in his grasp again just as you were finishing up, and you paused to let him speak.

Holding your eye contact as gently as he held your wrist, John murmured, “I think about you a lot when I’m away.”

Your thumb carefully dragged the last of the lotion across his cheek, vanishing it into his skin. “I think about you too.”

A couple of inches breathing room between you became too much, what with John’s eyes drooping to your lips for increasing intervals. You decided to toss your face lotion bottle on the bed before you kissed him. Hardly heated, you were gentle as before. Something sweet and simple to soothe him back to normal life.

But as John pulled away, you saw none of that. You saw remorse that ran as deep as the damage his scars hinted at. All he managed was a slight embellishment of a smile whilst he wiped away a smear of lotion that had transferred onto your face.

“What time’s our reservation?”

“An hour.”

Plenty of time.

So, instead of pressing him like your gut yearned to, you kissed his forehead and stepped away. You didn’t call out how he leant towards you, even tilting on his axis to follow your lips for more, or how he closed his eyes with his shoulders sagging and a sigh caged in his ribs. He probably didn’t want to be seen as the sad man who asked you to kiss him so he felt better about getting a boner over getting his hair washed.

You let John stick to his plan and thank you by taking you out to dinner. Despite feeling like you were making progress, knowing him a little more, he seemed to be digging into the Earth to create more distance between you both as he sipped at his drink and dodged your queries about what he planned to do with his time off. Distance was healthy, necessary even for your work. But much more and you might not be able to stomach it.

With his new found vantage point, John as your voyeur continued his new role throughout and past dinner. The only time you crossed into his territory again was once you’d completed your nightly routine under his watch. You crossed the shag carpet to stand between his legs, kiss him goodnight and thank him for treating you so well. Reminding you that you hadn’t lost all that progress, John squeezed your waist as he affirmed you deserved every luxury. His forehead rested against yours as he told you this.

But there was damage done still. John reached out for you in his sleep. His arms found your waist every time he settled, and every time he woke back up, he retracted his touch back to his side.

You didn’t hear from him for two months after that meeting, something with work he’d said. You still thought about him a lot. You wondered if he still did too.

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

AN: Thanks for your patience! You voted for a bathtime chapter; we got one! I've got a dark!fic au of this I'll post later on too.

#john price #john price x reader #john price x you #cod x reader #cod x you #john price fanfic #captain john price fanfic #cod fanfic #my writing #series #r: gn #wc: 2k>

41 notes · View notes

inniessick · 2 years ago

Text

Painting your nails together / Lee know

pairing: lee know x gn!reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: not capitalized, grammar and punctuation should be good though. one (1) slightly suggestive joke mayhaps, pet names (babe, bunny), this is pretty much just a small fluffy fic to make your heart feel good! let me know if i missed any!

reblogs likes and feedback are super appreciated!! ♡ :3

it was a friday night, and you had planned a small date night with Minho, you had a surprise ready. you knew the boys wouldn’t leave you two alone, not that you minded, you just wanted him to yourself tonight. that led you to inviting him over to your place. could you even really call it yours? he was there so often he might as well just call it his too.

On my way over, need me to stop and get anything?

nope, just want you here! drive safe, love you.

Love you too bunny.

you put your phone back on your desk and set up a little area on the floor, a makeshift nail salon. you were gonna ask to paint his nails tonight! he had painted yours a multitude of times already, always putting everything away before you even had the chance to ask to do his! tonight, it was your mission to give him a little manicure. you snickered as you laid out all the colors, you were fully prepared to get on your knees and beg him to let you do it. surely he couldn’t resist that right? you picked your phone back up to start looking at pinterest to give yourself ideas. initially you had thought about just asking to file his nails and put a clear coat on, but your head was brewing! they had just released an album, and you knew how adorable it was. i mean, you even got all the versions in hopes of pulling your boyfriends photo cards! of course he would’ve just gotten them for you, but where’s the fun in that? you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t like seeing him get just a little jealous when you got excited over get one of the other boy’s picture. continuing to scroll through nail posts, you eventually landed on a picture where the style was mostly a clear coat with one or two nails painted black. a perfect way to ease him into the lovely world of nail polish!

you remembered the first time you ever asked him to paint your nails. you had finished doing one hand and knew you would struggle with the other, so you called him into the room. “minho! come here a second, please!” you could hear him walking through the hallway. “what’s up, bunny?” you were fanning your hand in the air to get the polish to dry quicker. “could you.. mm.. will you paint my nails? pleasepleaseplease! I already did one hand you’d just have to copy it!” staring up at him, pouting your lips just slightly. he looked down at you, unsure wether to actually say yes, “if that’s what’ll make you happy, sure. but I’ve never done it before so if it comes out messed up it’s not my fault.” you giggled waving a hand at him so he would come sit down. “mkay! so you just have to…” “and then on this nail you gotta…” in one ear and out the other, he had no clue what the hell you were talking about it. had you seriously asked him to do a design? he doubted he’d be able to keep your finger polish free. “are you mistaking me for another man because i’m horrible at art.” “min~! c’mon its just a few lines… and a star.. in different colors..” it hit you that maybe this would be just a bit too hard for him. “okay, i’ll make it simple, take the pink ’n purple and alternate the colors!” “that’s something i can probably do.” “thank you min! you’re the best, love you _soooo _much.” you kissed his cheeks and nose, a habit you picked up from him. left cheek, right cheek, then lips if you were lucky, and finally your nose. the first time you did it back to him he wouldn’t stop calling you a “kiss thief!” and “my little copycat.”

just as he suspected, painting your nails was no easy task, smudging the color and getting it on the side of your finger. he thought maybe you’d be annoyed, but he looked up and all he saw was you smiling at him. just happy that he was there with you. after his 3rd try he finally didn’t mess it up, granted your two hands were very different. you didn’t hesitate to tell everyone at work that your boyfriend pained your nails, ‘see didn’t he do such a good job?’ while flashing your hand at them. you were very proud of his work after all! eventually, he actually started asking you to let him try stuff. he tried flowers, and hearts, stars and lines. for your anniversary he even painted cute little bunny ears, a reference to his nickname for you. he ended up getting pretty dang good at it! so good, that people would just compliment you! gave you a real run for your money, he had almost gotten better than you.

your little flashback being cut short by a knock at your door. didn’t he have a key? he could’ve just let himself in. you got up to get the door and there he was, a bag in hand. “get in here,” ushering him inside, staring at the bag as he walked in, “what’s in the bag min?” he flashed you a quick smirk before taking each item out of the bag and placing it on the coffee table. a new nail file, nail polish remover, cotton balls, and clear nail polish. “tonight i’m letting you paint my nails!” he said it like a proud little kid. you couldn’t help but start laughing, of course he had thought of the exact same thing as you. “now what’s so funny, babe?” you shook your head grabbing his hand and leading him to your room, ignoring his protests. you opened the door and pointed at the floor where you little nail station was set up. “you want me to do your nails first?” “no! i was gonna ask to paint your nails tonight!” he looked at you, then back at the floor, and back to you again before letting out a couple giggles. “i suppose i may have just ruined your surprise for me, right bunny? i was wondering why you wouldn’t tell me what we’d be doing tonight.” “mmm, i wouldn’t say you ruined my surprise, i think you just made it better!” “alright… but why are there so many colors out?” you were caught, why did he have to pay so much attention? “well I was thinking…” “are you gonna paint soonie, doongi, and dori?” you playfully hit his arm, “no, but I was thinking about maybe doing a bit of black? just a little! like two nails! ...and maybe a little design on one of em.” You flashed him your best puppy eyes, holding his hand close to your chest, hoping he’d agree. “i’ll let you do whatever you want, but i better feel like a pretty princess by the end of it.” you enthusiastically nodded your head, agreeing that you’d do exactly what he asked.

you asked him to wait just a second, while you headed back out to the living room to grab the new things he got. walking back into your room where he was patiently sitting and waiting for you. you joined him on the floor before started to file his nails to even them out, add your base coat and got straight to painting. idle chit chat going back and forth between the two of you. you telling him all about your day, and the drama at the office, while he just sat there and relaxed. you noticed he hadn’t said anything in a few minutes, so you stopped your spiel about work, afraid maybe you had bored him. “i wasn’t done listening to you, keep talking. love hearing your pretty voice.” he gave you a reassuring smile.

minho always knew just how to make your heart feel all warm for him. oh... how you loved him so much, a pure unconditional kind of love. a love where nothing could possibly make you feel poorly about him. you continued to talk to him, just as he had asked you. him offering the occasional ‘ah’ ‘oh no she didn’t!’ ‘since when did they have kid together?’ ‘i mean, maybe we should have kid together, little me and yous running about.’ the last statement causing you to look up, giggling as you said “oh shush.” he genuinely listened to you, made you feel heard. it didn’t matter when, where, or what is was about, he would always listen to you. you had someone who cared endlessly for you, and he had you. he simply had you. that’s all he needed, just you. you to kiss, and hold. you to love, take care of his cats with him, stay glued to his side, he had you to lean on, to lean with. not a second would go by without his thoughts going towards you. sure, maybe he wasn’t the best at telling you he loved you, but he was damn good at showing you. minho was yours, and you were his. as simple and straightforward as that. it would always be that way. you both knew that. irrevocably, and endlessly in love with each other.

delivering you last finishing touches you spoke, “mkay minmin, they’re all done.” you closed up the bottles of nail polish, throwing the napkins and cotton swabs into the trash. “well, do you like them?” you were so proud of your work, certainly he would be too. “no, I dont like them at all.” you frowned, ready to apologize before he lifted your head up, “I love them, and i love you even more.” your face lit up, he swore it could’ve illuminated a whole city. you grabbed his face before kissing his lips, grateful that you were able to. mumbling into the kiss “love you too, min.” your mouths only separating when you needed to breathe. “let’s sit back down, i gotta paint yours to match mine.”

a/n: im literally so sorry for posting this SO LATE, by like 3 hours!!!!!! but i was unpacking and i got like 4 packages of jeongin photocards so i had to open them before I did anything else 💀💀 which lead to me sleeving then all, and then giving them all a toploader. as you can see it took me awhile. i'm praying this fic doesn't have any errors bc i swear i reread it 4 times. tbh the inspo came from me and my friend painting our nails together! we actually used jeongin and chan as inspo, came out hella cute! I WANTED IT TO BE SHORT!! LIKE UNDER 1K!! BUT I CANT SHUT UP TO SAVE MY LIFEEEEEEE. so please enjoy this not-so-short short fic. remember, my asks are open :) i am always open to hearing from you guys. thank you for 100 likes on my last post and i hope you enjoy this one just as much. yoori out!

likes reblogs and feedback are appreciated! ♡ my requests are open! let me know if you'd liked to be added to a taglist for future works.

96 notes · View notes

modernmisadventures · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 9: Plots Thicken

Damn meetings. How was a teacher supposed to get any planning done when every time she turned around, she had another bloody meeting. And today, of all days! Thursday was his usual day to…

Kal’istae dragged her thoughts away from that rabbit hole. No; she wasn’t going to obsess. Not now. Hadn’t he sent her a text this morning, wishing her a good morning? Wasn’t that enough? He had a job, she had a job. And that job did not include mooning over some gold-eyed, silver-tongued rogue in a social worker’s clothing. “Miss Miurani!”

Turning at the familiar voice, Kal’istae smiled at Ryne as the girl came dashing up. “Ryne, hello there. Shouldn’t you be in class?”

Blue eyes were wide and guileless while the girl leaned on her knees, catching her breath. “I was going to the bathroom when I saw you walking by. I just had to ask - is it true? Did you go on a date last night?”

Bloody- “Come on, then,” Kal’istae sighed at the girl. “I’m not having this discussion here in the hall.” She gestured for Ryne to follow, then led her into her classroom, shutting the door behind them. “Yes. I went on a date last night. Yes,” she added, forestalling whatever question Ryne’s indrawn breath portended, “I went on a date with Thancred last night. And I had an absolutely lovely time of it.”

As she turned and walked towards her desk, Ryne followed at her heels. “Where did you go? What did you do? Are you going to go out again? Tell me you’re going to go out with him again. C’mon, Miss Miurani,” she wheedled. “He’s such a nice guy. Surely you can see that.”

Laughing, Kal’istae shook her head in amusement. “Slow down, dear,” she chided the girl. “Give me a chance to get a word in edgewise.” She laid her hand on her desk and turned to face Ryne. “We went to a new Hingan place and enjoyed a very nice meal - and a lot of conversation. And as to going out again, that’s up to your - to Thancred,” she corrected herself. “Should he ask, though, be assured I will most certainly say yes.”

Turning back, she rounded her desk and prepared to sit down when she noticed something upon her desk that hadn’t been there before. Ryne approached from the other side, wide-eyed, as Kal’istae bent to sniff at the arrangement of Althyk’s Lavender and starflowers set amongst a bed of Lover’s Laurel. “Well now,” murmured the teacher as she plucked a folded card from amidst the arrangement, flipping it open.

Never have I spent a better evening than I did last night in your company. Please tell me I may have the pleasure of it again, and soon. I await your call. Yours, Thancred

“Well now,” Kal’istae repeated, and held the card out to Ryne, who snatched it from her hand and read it avidly. When the questions began again, she laughed and buried her face in the flowers to hide the tears of happiness that pricked the corners of her eyes. “Of course,” she said in answer to the girl’s demands, her voice muffled against the blooms. “Of course I plan to call him. And no spoiling it, either,” she added, lifting her head.

Ryne squealed and dashed around the desk to throw her arms around Kal’istae. “I wouldn’t, I won’t, I promise! Oh!”

Kal’istae stroked her hand down the girl’s strawberry-blonde hair. “Go back to class, sweetie. I’ve my seniors coming shortly, and you’ve played hooky long enough.”

Squeezing her a moment longer, Ryne finally released her and drew back, dashing tears from her eyes. “I can’t wait to hear all about it!” she exclaimed, then turned and dashed off, leaving the door to swing shut behind her.

Kal’istae smiled down into the flowers. “I can’t wait to have something to tell you,” she murmured, and indulged herself a moment longer in the flowers’ heady aroma before setting them aside and preparing for her next class.

Jess absentmindedly stirred a chip in her half-finished plate of nachos - much better than the normal swill served by the establishment, seeing as how she’d made it herself. Another slow night at the bar… Both a blessing and a curse - fewer nasty patrons to deal with, but all the same, fewer tips. And the hours seemed to drag on and on when there was simply nothing to do. She’d already wiped the counter twice; every single piece of mismatched glassware was spotless. The bottles were fully stocked. And she was… bored.

Well, not for much longer. The door swung open and Kal’istae strode in. No longer dressed for work, she wore a long, flowing skirt and a light blouse that clung to her shoulders. Her hair was done in a single braid snaking from the crown of her head down her back, and tucked into her hair was a spray of starflowers. “Jess!” she exclaimed, rushing forward and flinging herself onto a stool. “Read!” She thrust the card at the bartender.

“Kali!” Jess’ face erupted into a bright smile upon seeing her friend - only for her brows to furrow as she didn’t catch sight of a familiar, silver-haired Hyur following her in. Yet she didn’t have time to contemplate; nearly as soon as the woman entered, Jess found herself confronted with a small, folded paper. Curiosity got the better of her; she quickly grasped the note, eyes scanning over the careful penmanship, its author no mystery.

Such lovey words were… Well, if she hadn’t seen the note for herself, she’d scarcely believe Thancred of all people would have written such a thing. She passed the letter back to its owner, a coy smile growing upon her face.

“See, what did I tell you?” she gently ribbed. “He’s head over heels for you, just look at this! Have you called him yet? Oh, and, uh, do you want anything?”

Kal’istae carefully tucked the note into her pocket, gripping it briefly before resolutely drawing her hand free and instead folding both together upon the bar. “Something sweet, and virgin; I’m not looking to get buzzed tonight. Too much work to do.” She eyed the bartender’s nachos, but didn’t indulge herself, however tempting they looked. “It’s a very sweet note,” she began, then sighed, blushing. “Who am I kidding? I’d probably have called him right then if Ryne hadn’t been in the room with me. No, I haven’t called yet. I don’t want to seem too…” Needy. “Eager.”

A glance at the nachos again and this time she sighed, then scooped up a chip and plopped it in her mouth. “Sorry,” she said around a mouthful of cheese. “I haven’t eaten. I’ve got butterflies in my stomach.”

Something sweet and virgin… Jess only just refrained from making a witty comment about that, instead leaning down to covertly check her drink list before popping back up, turning to the fridge and retrieving club soda, mint and blueberries.

“I have some butterflies in the back if that’s your thing - cream cheese inside fried wontons, that is. Frozen but decent if you’re desperate - or drunk. Like all of our food, to be honest.”

She quickly set to work on her concoction, snorting at her friend’s words.

“You don’t want to come across as too needy or eager? To the guy who asked you out every day- week- month, whatever, for a year? Why not? What have you got to lose?” It wasn’t exactly as if she understood dating etiquette, after all - was calling the next day truly a bad thing to do?

“I - what? Butterflies?” Briefly mystified, Kal’istae scooped up another nacho. “No, I mean I’m nervous, and it’s making everything all quivery and queasy. Honestly, I’m surprised I was able to eat last night, I was so nervous being out with him.” She gave a soft little laugh, just this side of anxious. “I sound like an idiot. I feel like an idiot. The man’s had a million women. And maybe that’s it,” she sighed. “Maybe I’m afraid that once he’s had a taste, I’ll never be able to compare.” Another nacho, and she hummed. “Not all of your food - these nachos are top notch. No pun intended.”

She sighed, leaning on her fist to watch Jess make her drink. “It’s true. He asked me out every week like clockwork. And when I finally said yes, he couldn’t believe it at first. For a moment, I thought he was upset - but he was actually quite happy that I said yes. And last night…” She trailed off, sighing, and a slightly goofy smile curved her lips. “I know he’s your brother, Jess, so excuse me for a second here while I simply gush. He was the sweetest damn thing. Kept holding my hand. Sat right next to me instead of across from me. Ordered a dish blind just to make sure I had time to read the menu.”

She gave another soft laugh. “Ah, gods, Jess, I think I’m smitten.” And her blush deepened.

“As you should be!” Jess insisted with a wide grin, sliding Kali a virgin blueberry mojito before leaning down on the counter, resting her face in her hands. “A pair of smitten fools is what you two are… and it’s absolutely amazing. You deserve it both. Please, don’t stop gushing for my sake.”

Kal’istae sipped at the drink and beamed. “Perfect - I love this.” She indulged in a second sip before placing her glass down. “I admit, there’s a part of me that’s certain I will regret this. Your brother’s reputation in Sharlayan was very well founded - but I have never, ever heard of him leading anyone on. So I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt and believe that everything he said to me last night was the gods’ honest truth.” Curious, she eyed Jess. “I suppose since we’re such new friends, it’s not freaky to think of me and your brother… uh… dating?”

“I mean, better you than anyone else, I’d say.” Jess gave a shrug. “Truthfully, you were introduced to me first as his lover - or someone he wanted to be - and as a friend second, so it’s… I mean yeah it’s weird that you’ve had your tongue down my brother’s throat but hey, I’m not judging! And I promise, you have no reason not to believe him - he’s about as honest as they come, to a fault, really.” Gods, part of her wanted to strangle Thancred for letting his reputation get the best of him - if something like that drove off the best thing that had ever happened in his life… Well, she’d make sure he’d come to regret the martial arts lessons he’d paid for throughout her childhood.

Said tongue is tucked between Kal’istae’s teeth as she considers her response. “I’d like to make one correction. I have not actually had my tongue down his throat yet. Our kiss, while far from chaste, was not so… Ishgardian.” She made a pleased sound in her throat. “It was, however, quite memorable. The whole night was. But I’ll not drown you in the details. However,” and here she smiled impishly, “feel free to tease your brother about blind-ordering the hottest dish in the restaurant.”

“Oh?” Jess raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “I’ll keep that in mind - though, all things considered, you were probably the hottest dish in that restaurant - to him, at least. And I just know the next kiss will be even more memorable - as soon as you call him back!”

Kal’istae sighed and pulled out her tomephone, studying its screen. The background was the selfie that Jess and Ciprys had taken when they’d gotten together during her date, and she smiled to see it. As she pressed her thumb to the sensor and unlocked the phone, the door behind her swung open. Ignoring it, she brought up her contacts and scrolled through until she found Thancred’s number. There she paused, hesitating.

“Bar this time,” Cirdan murmured to Varrus as they sauntered in. His eyes darted over the few drinkers present, lingering briefly upon the auri female at the bar - but her obsidian horns gave away that she was not his quarry. Discontent at finding Ciprys not present, he moved to sit next to Kal’istae instead, sliding onto the stool at her side and leaning against the bar while tapping the open spot on his other side for his Elezen companion.

"Well?" Jess huffed, staring at the phone in Kali's hand expectantly. "What are you waiting-"

She cut herself off as the bell above the door jingled, alerting her to new guests - only to feel her heart leap in excitement as she spotted that purple-haired Elezen Cip had seemed so obsessed with, before quickly reminding herself to settle down. He was just there for a drink - she didn't even know his name. Her eyes flickered to his companion, Cirdan, the imposing Au Ra Cip was absolutely enthralled with, eyeing him warily before turning her attention back to Kali, who had still yet to commit to her phone call.

Though… she couldn't stop her gaze from flickering back to the Elezen, finding him staring at her and flashing her a smile as she caught his eye, one she returned without hesitation for the briefest of moments, before dragging herself away from him once more. He was probably just waiting for a menu… Which reminded her she had a job to do.

"You don't have to beckon me, I'm not a dog," Varrus huffed, though his irritation was little more than a farce. He'd known exactly why his roommate had dragged him to that same bar again that evening, and, judging by the way his friend's face fell at discovering the absence of his white-scaled mistress, the Elezen's suspicions had been spot-on.

Not that he himself was exactly innocent, either… He spotted the bartender almost immediately, engaged in conversation with the same Au Ra who she'd been talking to last time. He did his best not to stare, bit couldn't help but smile as he caught her eye while sliding into his seat alongside Cir, his happiness genuine as she returned the gesture - her grin reserved for him only, he noted, as he watched her eyes flicker from him to his friend, her jovial expression slipping to a furrowed frown before quickly glancing away.

"Well now," Jess greeted, her genuine smile replaced by her customer service face, "nice to see you two again. What can I get for you boys tonight?"

“Just - give me a moment!” Kal’istae replied, somewhat anxiously. She stared at the phone a moment longer, then placed it on the counter, face up and still undialed. “Maybe later,” she finally muttered. “He’s probably busy anyway.”

Cirdan glanced over, noting that the picture for the contact was the same silver-haired hyur he’d seen her with last time. “What’s the problem? You two seemed so chummy last time. You breaking up with him?” Those otherworldly turquoise eyes flicked up to hers. “Want me to do that for you?” She stared at him, aghast. He grinned, showing a mouthful of white, white teeth, then turned back to Jess. “Still not stocking good Hingan beers? How about some whiskey, then. And get the boy whatever he wants,” he adds, jerking at thumb at Varrus.

"Look, sir, I don't stock the drinks, I just pour them," Jess huffed, bristling slightly at the Au Ra's demanding tone, despite the teasing note beneath. "But whiskey I can do. And," she shot a grin towards the Elezen, "what would the boy like tonight?"

"The boy?" Varrus groaned, narrowing his eyes at Cir before clearing his throat. "The boy would like…" And it was there that he paused - his assertions that he was a man, not a boy would surely fall flat if he were to order something as juvenile as a fucking lemonade. Again. His eyes quickly scanned over the shelves behind the woman, his brain scrambling for an answer. "Um…" What could he order that would give the best impression? Whiskey? Too hard. Wine? Too pretentious. Tequila? Too wild.

"Hold that thought." Jess lifted a finger, freeing the Elezen from his struggles. "I've got just the thing for you." She quickly poured Cir his whiskey - on the rocks, like she assumed a tough guy would enjoy - sliding it across the counter and eyeing her friend's phone as she did.

"And Rhalgr's bloody arse, Kali, just call him - before I do!"

With that, she turned back to the fridge, rummaging around for the ingredients she needed for her second guest's drink.

Kal’istae whined. Quite literally. “It’s too soon,” she replied, and deliberately flipped her phone over. “If I call him now, he’ll think I’m desperate.” Aren’t I, though? Ignoring the thought, she instead turned to frown at Cirdan. “I can’t break up with someone I’m not dating. Well, not, like… officially,” she added grudgingly, glancing at her phone. “We had a date last night. Our first. He asked me to call him.” She reached up to touch the flower tucked in her hair. “Sent me flowers,” she added dreamily.

Cirdan smiled slowly. “So call him,” he advised. “He wouldn’t ask you to if he didn’t want you to.” He sipped at his whiskey and nodded approvingly. “Thank you,” he told Jess. “It’s perfect.” Varrus’s indignant question is ignored for a moment as he sips again. After all, the comment served its purpose; it got him attention from the right source. “Is your friend coming in today?” he asked the two women. Kal’istae ignored him, busy frowning at her phone and tapping her finger against the back anxiously.

"Our friend would come in, if she would just bloody call him!" Jess grumbled, shaking her head. "He asked you out constantly for a year and you're worried about looking desperate?"

With a grunt, she turned her mind to more pleasant matters, carefully pouring a mixture of lemon lime soda, cherry syrup and peach juice into a tall glass, giving it a gentle stir, just enough to combine the flavors without ruining the gradiant she'd carefully crafted. She plopped a few candied cherries on top before finishing with a little umbrella for good measure, placing it before her customer with a wide grin.

"Here you go! House special."

The Elezen gave her a bright smile, the warmth in his golden eyes nearly enough to make her heart jump - if she'd allowed herself, which, of course, she didn't.

Not really.

Varrus held the bartender's gaze as he carefully sipped the drink - relieved at both the lack of alcohol and the tang. "It's fantastic," he murmured with a grin, "and gorgeous." Just like you. The words ran through his head, but, thankfully, he stopped them from slipping off his tongue, no matter how much he thought them true.

Instead, he plucked a cherry from its stem and popped it into his mouth, hoping he looked smoother than he felt. "You know, I can tie one of these stems with my tongue."

"Can you now?" He watched as the bartender crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "Well, go on. Prove it then."

He supposed he should have considered that she'd call him on his bluff - but he wasn't a coward.

Or so he told himself.

With a nod and a grin that portrayed confidence he didn't have, he stuck the stem in his mouth, looking incredibly unsexy, he was sure, as he did his best to navigate the stem into a knot - only to gulp at the wrong time, feeling the stem sliding back into his throat. He sputtered, coughed, hacked, did his best to dislodge the invader in his throat, all to no avail, resorting to grabbing the nearest drink he could - Cir's whiskey, unfortunately - and downing it in one gulp.

And, in that moment, he wasn't sure what was worse - the coughing from the stem, or the coughing from the burn of the alcohol scorching his esophagus.

“I think he meant Ciprys,” Kal’istae said absently to Jess as she stared at her phone and poked it experimentally with one finger. It slid across the bar, still face down. “I think she said she was tutoring until late. Maybe if I wait long enough, he’ll call me. Then it won’t be an issue.”

Cirdan sighed and smacked the Elezen sharply between the shoulder blades. “See?” he asked drolly. “Boy. Spit it out, and if you’re going to impress a woman, do it with something you can actually do. Like this.” He turned a winning smile on Jess. “Did you know he can build a computer from scratch without looking a damn thing up? And he’s an expert on Moogling things; he’s saved me hours. Literally. Brain the size of my tail, if only half as sharp sometimes.” He turned his gaze on Kal’istae, hand still poised to give another whack if needed. “Tutoring? Damn it. Any idea what time she’ll be done with that?”

Kal’istae shook her head and slid her finger under the phone, lifting it up hopefully. When it showed only the waiting contact, she let it fall back to the counter. “No. Ask Jess, she saw her last. I was too busy going on what will probably be the last date I ever go on. Ever. Damn,” she sighed, and laid her head on the bar.

Jess' eyes widened, her hand shooting out to rest on the Elezen's arm without a second thought. "Are you ok?" she asked, genuine concern in her voice. At the Elezen's slow nod, she gave a smile. "Good, because I don't perform mouth-to-mouth on people whose names I don't even know."

"Varrus," he managed to croak out, before slamming his head down onto the bar in a similar fashion as the Au Ra woman beside him. At least she'd had a date - more than he could ever hope for in that moment. In fact, he would have liked nothing more than to sink to the floor and die.

"Varrus." Jess grinned, liking the way the name rolled off her tongue - only to get rather irritatingly distracted by her distressed friend. With a huff, she reached out and snatched the tomestone, finding it fortunately unlocked and already on Thancred's number. She deftly tapped his icon, handing the phone back once she heard it begin to ring.

"There," she grunted with a scowl, "I've solved your problems for you - now scrape yourselves up off my bar, if you wouldn't mind, lest my boss see you and accuse me of overpouring again."

“No!” Kal’istae’s eyes were as large as moons as she snatched at the phone - but by the time it found its way back to her hands, it had already begun to ring. She lunged for the disconnect button, then heard the click of Thancred picking up.

“Hey! I was hoping you’d call!” In complete sympathy with Varrus’s desire to sink into the floor at that moment, Kal’istae did the next best thing. She slid from her stool and drifted away to the booth, holding the phone to her ear. “Kali? Hello?” If she answered, it was muffled as she crawled into the corner of the booth and curled into a ball, still holding the phone cradled against her cheek.

Cirdan watched her go, amused, then turned back to eye Jess with some interest. “I considered doing that,” he confessed to her, “but I’m glad it was you.” He smacked Varrus on the back again, more gently. “Now that you know his name, I feel safe leaving him in your hands. Since,” he added with a wicked grin, “you’ll give him mouth-to-mouth if he decides to swallow another cherry stem. Good luck,” he said to the Elezen. He then placed a pile of gil on the bar - enough to cover their drinks and anything else Varrus might buy, and took himself off, leaving his roommate to the bartender’s tender mercies.

“Well, good. Now that that’s done,” Jess made a show of wiping her hands, turning to the Elezen with a grin, “he mentioned that you can build computers?”

Slowly, Varrus nodded, wishing his roommate had mentioned, perhaps, one of his cooler hobbies… whatever they were. But, seeing as his attempts at wooing the woman had clearly failed, he gave up, lifting his head from the bar and putting on his bravest smile.

“I do - it’s my job. Kind of. Tech stuff in general. It’s not nearly as impressive as he made it sound, though - anyone can do it.”

“I doubt that,” Jess snorted. “I can’t even make a simple drink; I can’t imagine trying to make an entire machine.”

“Well, you made this one just fine.” He raised his glass, taking another sip while not letting go of her gorgeous, brown-eyed gaze. “In fact… I could teach you, if you want. To build a computer.”

“You could?”

He nodded. “Easily. Do you like games?”

He watched her bring a finger to her chin. “Yeah… there’s this game about chocobo racing I’ve always wanted to play - oh, and a game about Ishgardian knights of old! Dragoon Age, I think it’s called? And one that looked kind of interesting about pirates on the uncharted seas, Mast Effect, and-” She stopped, a bashful smile growing upon her lovely face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble. What I meant to say was, I’d love to learn, if you’re willing to teach. You… would be my teacher, right?”

“Right.” He nodded, beaming. “Though we can’t exactly make one in a bar… Are you busy tomorrow afternoon?”

Jess’ heart leapt into her throat - just what was she agreeing to? All the same, she shook her head. “No, I’m off tomorrow.”

“Perfect!” She couldn’t help but get swept up in the Elezen’s unabashed joy. “If you’d like, we can exchange tome numbers and I can text you my address - if you’re ok coming over, that is. It’d be a lot easier, since I have all the parts there, and it’s a clean apartment, I-”

She brought a finger to his lips, effectively hushing him as she grinned. “I’ll be there.” And it was as she dug her tomephone out of her pocket that she remembered the other woman in the bar on her tome; curiosity got the better of her as she glanced over Varrus’ shoulder, though she couldn’t quite make out what Kali was saying, nor the voice on the other line.

“I’m here.” Kal’istae’s voice was low, and her knees drawn up so that it was muffled from hearing beyond the booth. No snooping, Jess!

Thancred’s laugh was soft. “You sound nervous. What’s up? You, uh… you planning to let me down easy?” Another laugh, this one less cheerful, more nervous.

Swallowing, Kal’istae traced her finger on the side of the table, her eyes roaming everywhere but the bar. “No, of course not. Don’t be silly,” she murmured. “Do you think after last night I could turn down another date?”

This laugh held more than a hint of relief. “I don’t know. I’m winging this, Kali, and hoping I’m doing at least a half-assed job of it, because I have no idea.”

Calmer now to hear her own fears reflected back at her, Kal’istae caught her bang on her finger and twisted it. “Well, we can muddle through together. What did you have in mind? Or is it my turn to pick?”

“Is there something you want to do?” he asked. “If so, then we’ll do that. Otherwise, I thought I’d mention they’re doing a double feature at the theater on Saturday. The Azure Dragoon and the Wyrmking, followed by the Wyrmking and I.”

Kal’istae choked. “Oh my. That’s one hell of a double feature. One of those is Ishgard’s favorite movie, the other is banned. You’re absolutely on. And I’ll buy the popcorn.”

Thancred’s laugh warmed her to her toes. “Deal. I’ll pick you up at twelve-thirty. Depending on how things go, perhaps we can catch an early dinner after.”

Gods, how could she breathe with this weight on her chest? “Maybe,” she replied impishly, squelching her nerves. “See you then.”

“Kali.” He waited until she made an interrogative noise. “I look forward to seeing you.”

Oh gods. “Same,” she managed, and as he disconnected, she dropped her hand, her phone sliding into her lap, and stared across the distance at the bar. Half of her was tempted to rush up to Jess and gush - but seeing the hyur busy with the Elezen, she instead slid noiselessly out of the booth and left some gil behind for her drink, then snuck out of the bar, leaving the pair alone.

“There.” Jess gave a satisfied nod, ensuring the Elezen’s number was correct in her tomestone. “It’s a date! I- I mean, not a date, I mean- I’ll be there.”

“I look forward to it.” Varrus gave a grin, one that she was quickly coming to enjoy, before dropping his own handful of gil onto the bar and standing. “I’ll see you tomorrow, er-” She watched as his brows furrowed, the man reaching around to rub the back of his neck as he asked, “I, uh, realize I never got your name.”

She snorted. “Jess.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Jess.”

With that, he took his leave, leaving Jess… once again alone in the bar. So enthralled had she been in her conversation that she hadn’t noticed Kali leaving, something which gave her cause to frown. Oh, if the Au Ra thought she was escaping the eve without spilling the details of her phone call, she had another one coming.

#ffxiv #au: misadventures in modern eorzea #multiple authors #author: ainyan #author: sasslett #oc: jess shepard #oc: kal'istae miurani #oc: varrus varlineau #oc: cirdan takechi #npc: thancred waters #npc: ryne waters

8 notes · View notes

overdevelopedglasses · 1 year ago

Text

Tojoctober Day 26 - Salt

(Comin' out here to chase off enemies)

Title is from “My Own Style”, a fight theme in Judgment

While out on a case for Yagami, Kaito gets himself in a bit of a jam. A mysterious figure helps him out.

(no spoilers, takes place post Judgment though)

—-------------------------------

“Hey, you! Don’t ignore us!” one of the punks said, banging an iron pipe against his hand, in an attempt at intimidation.

Kaito looks up from his phone, thumb hitting the send button on his text of ~May be a bit tied up. Back me up?~ to Yagami.

“Huh? Talkin’ to me?” Kaito says, hoping to dissuade the situation entirely.

“We know all about you, Kaito. You better watch yourself. The Green Tide is going to be the hot new thing, and you’re gonna want in early.”

“If you already know me… then you should know my answer is.” Kaito snarls, fists tightening at his sides. Who the hell are these assholes? Kaito asked himself.

The punk laughs. “HA! You really think you can take all of us on? C’mon boys, let’s get him!”

Kaito runs up to the punk at the front of the pack and wrestles the weapon out of their hands, tossing it aside.

“HA! Now you can really fight me.” Kaito taunts, adrenaline beginning to spike through him.

The thug punches Kaito in the stomach, barely hurting him. He laughs again.

“You might want to stop laughing…” The thug says, pushing Kaito into the wall. As Kaito pushes himself off, he realizes he is surrounded by them, and his back is forced against the wall. The thug barely put a dent in him yes, but he’s vastly outnumbered now. Even he knows when a situation is doomed.

Well, shit. This doesn’t look good…

He hears a punk way near the entrance of the alley scream.

“Now, this doesn’t look very fair, does it?”

Kaito hears someone speak, and a second punk falls to the ground.

“Woah… wait a minute, that’s aaaaaaa!”

A third thug is cut off mid sentence, as they fall to the ground with a whimper, and Kaito can now fully see his savior as he breaches the front lines and faces Kaito fully. A behemoth of a man, right at Kaito’s height, he looks like he belongs in the military with his buzz cut and clothes. But Kaito gets a weird feeling… he’s seen him somewhere before.

“Are ya gonna help out?”

Kaito blinks, and realizes he’s being addressed now. He pushes himself off of the wall.

“Uh, yeah? Ha! You guys really messed up now!”

Kaito turns his back to the man, holding his fists up, now properly ready for a fight.

The punks begin to fly in, and Kaito, along with his new helper, clean up easily. Kaito does find himself a bit envious, however, at the ease this man takes out the thugs, swinging them around like they are toys. The battle quickly draws to an end, with Kaito and his helper standing back to back. Kaito, breathing heavily, turns to face the other man at the same time he turns around, the two of them making eye contact.

“Yer not a bad fighter at all. If there were less of em, ya wouldn’t have needed me. What’s yer name?” the man asks, cocking an eyebrow.

Kaito puts on his trademark grin. “Kaito. I’m an investigator at the Yagami Detective Agency.” He puts his hand in his pocket, and internally curses, realizing he didn’t have any of the business cards Yagami made for him. He sees the man cock his head slightly before responding.

“Kaito-san. I’m Saejima. Ya have any idea what those guys wanted?” Saejima gestures to the men that laid groaning all around them.

“Well, whoever they were, they seemed to know me, and then got salty when I refused to join up with them.” Kaito surmises.

“Right.” Saejima nods, stepping over the bodies, and waving a hand to beckon Kaito out of the alley. “It’s probably best if we don’t hang around here too long.”

“Yeah.” Kaito and Saejima come out onto Nakamichi Street, the bustle of the city seemingly unaware of their altercation. They begin to walk towards the Millennium Tower, as Saejima speaks up.

“From the looks of it… yer ex-yakuza?”

Kaito nods, aware that lying to someone who could have a decent chance at pummeling him was a bad idea. “Ex-Tojo, Matsugane Family.”

“Matsugane, huh? Interesting. One of the lower families. Haven’t met too many of their members, but heard the patriarch is a good fellow.”

“How would you know?” Kaito asks, holding back on any snide remarks or accuracy comments. He blames the second instinct of correction on Yagami, who’s lawyer instincts seemed to be rubbing off on him.

Saejima laughs, “Let’s just say I’m pretty knowledgeable on the workings of the Tojo.”

“I’d say… hey, there’s the agency!” Kaito points up at the window of the Yagami Detective Agency. He sees the light isn’t on, meaning his partner was wandering around the streets. Probably getting into trouble himself, since Kaito had no idea where he was.

“Huh, now that ya mention it… wasn’t that Yagami guy in the news recently? Heard he was in the middle of bustin’ some sort of big scandal. Even had a few people in the upper reaches of the clan talkin’ ‘bout it.” Saejima scrunches his eyebrows at the office, then drifts his gaze back to Kaito.

“You could say something like that,” Kaito grinned, pride swelling within him at his partner’s accomplishments.

Saejima pulls out his phone and swears under his breath. “I forgot my brother wanted to meet me in the city. Seems like I better run. I’ll see ya around, Kaito-san.” Saejima gives a small salute, then turns to walk away.

“It won’t be hard to spot me. Don’t be afraid to say hi, Saejima-san!” Kaito waves at the disappearing form of the mysterious man.

Man, does Tak have it this easy when he makes friends? Maybe I should try to be more personable… Kaito thinks to himself for a little bit before a warm voice breaks him out of his thoughts.

“Kaito-san!!!”

Kaito turns, and sees the worn-out form of his partner, Yagami, sprinting towards him. Kaito saunters towards the detective, who slows and eventually stops, panting heavily. Kaito stops his advance as well, giving him a respectable distance.

“Woah, you ok?” Kaito asks, putting his hands in his pockets.

“I just saw your text. I got tied up in something. I thought… you…” Yagami pants, making Kaito smile. Nice to be worried about, he thinks.

“I’m alright, Tak. Some guy was able to help me out in the end. I can tell you about him… over drinks?”

“Let me catch my breath first, Kaito-san…” Yagami replies, standing up fully, throwing a lopsided smirk Kaito’s way. Kaito laughs, beginning to lead the way to Tender. He looks over his shoulder at his partner.

“And in return, I’ll tell you about the character I met today.” Yagami finishes, before following Kaito’s lead.

#tojoctober #yakuza #ryu ga gotoku #rgg #kaito masaharu #saejima taiga #yagami takayuki #oh hey that's where Yagami went #anyway Kaito and Yagami swap stories #and one day they'd run into Saejima and Majima #they'd do the spiderman point meme it'd be so funny #tada! This was super fun to write #who would've expected day 15 to get a bit of a sequel? I didn't!#tomorrow... is what I teased with last week's sunday six. Get. Ready.

3 notes · View notes

fatestouch · 2 years ago

Text

Six months after meeting the Lancasters...

“I really don’t think you have the right to start beef with me. The cards never lie; I told you when you came in and paid for a reading. Just because you don’t like what they said... well, sounds like a personal problem.”

Seth leaned back with a sigh, dealing with yet another upset patron to his tarot business. Everybody wanted to know what their future holds, but that wasn’t really the truth. They just wanted to be told what they wanted to hear, be fed some pretty lie masked with vague comments.

Pointless.

And it looks like this one wasn’t calming down anytime soon. “Alright! Fine. If you insist on arguing... how about this?” Seth laid out a few cards--ordinary playing cards--on the table.

“Let’s play a game. Rules are simple--a game of ‘higher or lower’. Three cards, one flipped over.” He flips the one in the middle to reveal a three of hearts. “You tell me if the cards are higher, or lower. Get them all right, and I’ll say my readings were a scam, and even give you your money back. If I win...”

“...Well, we’ll figure that out later. So... do we have a bet?”

Of course, they were apprehensive. But it was such a simple, harmless game... so they nodded. Hands shaken, Seth relaxed in his seat.

“Alrighty. So, the first.” Seth put a hand on the card to the left. “Higher, or lower?”

Higher.

Flipping the card over, it was shown to be exactly that: a ten of diamonds.

Seth let out a whistle. “Look at you! I might actually lose~...” If he sounded condescending, he really didn’t care. He placed a hand on the right card. “One more... higher? Or lower?”

It was a seemingly simple answer; the base card was a three, one of the lowest cards in a deck. Statistically, there was a much higher chance of the card being higher.

That is... if Seth ever played by the rules of statistics.

Higher.

The patron missed the almost vicious smile on Seth’s face as the seer flipped the last card over, and hummed with a click of his tongue.

“Ah, welp... it was a fun game.” Showing the card, it revealed the two of clubs.

“I win. You lose.”

At that exact moment, the patrons eyes widened, before their eyes rolled back, and they collapsed on the floor. Not dead, just unconscious.

[I feel like there’s an easier way to get our job done.] Hayden commented from his place behind Seth, leaning on the wall. [Scouting with your readings, the whole ’let’s play a game’ bit... you sound like Jigsaw, idiot.]

“Totally! Might’ve freaked them out--” Nao skipped over, and kicked the unconscious person. “But you sounded sooo dorky. Were you trying to sound cool~?”

“Mean! Both of you! Besides, who really cares. As long as our job gets done, I’m allowed to fool around. C’mon, let’s get this one back.” Seth stood, stretching a bit with a grin. “I think they’ll like this one.”

[Already told them. Cecil’s excited, so that’s a guarantee it’ll be messy.] He sighed. [You carry them. They look heavy.]

"Nao’s telekinetic, make him do it!”

[He’s gotta save his energy. Morgan said so.]

“And she’s the boss; you gonna make her mad~?”

“I hate both of you.”

#v; at the flip of a coin #Seer IC;;#Psychic IC;;#Mute IC;;#this was sitting in my drafts for two weeks

2 notes · View notes

lerknow · 2 years ago

Text

Cheer Up, New MC~

Cheer Up, New Mc Lee! Know Ler! Seungmin

Synopsis: Minho is feeling anxious before his first time as an MC. Seungmin can sense his worries and helps him through it, in his own unique way

Warnings: This is Tickle Fiction, Worrying, light pinning

This is a Re-Post of my own fanfiction

“C’mon Minho breathe, you got this” Minho whispered to himself, trying to calm his nerves. It was going to be his first time as an MC and saying he was a bit worried was an understatement. Minho had been reading over his lines for about an hour while waiting for his call to stage. Each passing minute seemed like days to the dancer.

Seungmin watched as Minho silently panicked, feeling concerned for his bandmate. He found himself walking towards the anxious boy, hoping he could help in some way or another. Knowing his Minho hyung, Seungmin wouldn't even get to say a single word without him shutting the conversation down, but it was worth a shot, right?

“Hey hyung? You alright?” Seungmin said softly, sitting down in the seat next to Minho

“Yeah yeah, just anxious,” Minho replies, not looking up from his card.

“Maybe i can help you cheer up hmm?” Seungmin smiles at his Hyung, a slight mischievous glint in his eye, that somehow goes unnoticed by Minho.

“If you want” was all Minho had to say for Seungmin to wrap his arms around the older, resting his hands on Minho’s sides.

The two shared a moment in a comfortable hug. Minho felt himself calm in Seungmin’s embrace, until

“Wah, Seungmin nooo” Minho squeaks, squirming a bit under the younger’s ticklish touch. He shut his mouth tight, determined to not laugh, no way was he going to let Seungmin get what he wanted.

Seungmin ignored Minho and continued squeezing up and down his sides, holding him firmly so he wouldn't slide down the seat. To trap him further, Seungmin laid his leg on Minho’s lap.

“S-seungmin let me up” Minho stutterd out while shaking his head, he was smiling like an idiot, but still no laughing. Good thing Seungmin was determined to cheer up his hyung before the show.

“Tickle tickle tickle Lino hyung, can’t have you stressing before your MC debut~” Seungmin teased, Scaling up Minho’s torso, digging his hands into the top of Minho’s ribs, earning another squeak.

Seungmin was yet to fully break Minho, but by the look of his bright red face, Seungmin knew he was pretty close.

“Linooo~, Cmon just laugh, you know you want to” Seungmin moved his right hand to lightly flutter his hand along his tummy while continuing the harder tickles at the top of his ribs. The contradicting feelings on each side of his body were driving Minho crazy, the need to laugh growing stronger until he couldn't hold it anymore.

Minho finally broke, the room filled with Minho’s sweet giggles, putting a smile right onto Seungmin’s face.

“See, how hard was that now? hmm?” Seungmin shook Minho a bit with the tickles.

A very blushy Minho folded over under Seungmin’s grasp, hiding his face in his lap from the younger as he showed no signs of stopping any time soon. Seungmin kept his hands where they were, soaking in the sweet laughter of his hyung.

Seungmin was getting quite bored of staying in the same spot and decided to switch his tactics once again. He moved his hands to sit on top of Minho’s thighs, staying very still. Seungmin could feel the anxiety travel through Minho’s body as he slowed his giggles until the room was fully silent again.

“Seungmin n-no- I’m cheered up I promise.” Minho tried to sound intimidating, immediately failing as the sound of his stray giggles flooded the conversation. Minho kept his head low, staying as still as Seungmin’s hands, hoping, like a dinosaur, Seungmin could not see him.

Unluckily for Minho, Seungmin was not a dinosaur.

“Hmm i don't think so” Minho could feel the smirk in his tone as he began softly kneading into his legs. Of course Seungmin had to know his weak spot.

Minho let out the loudest squeal he could create, followed by more of his famous laughter

“SEUNGMIHIHIHIN”

“Yes Lee Know hyung?~” Seungmin asks, pretending to be oblivious

“WHYHYHY”

“Why what?~” Seungmin smirks again, never stopping his torment on his older member

“Why am I tickling you?”

“Y-YEHEHES SEUNGMIHIHIN”

Seungmin giggled at his hyung

“Well it’s because you need to loosen up a little” Seungmin states,

“I don’t like seeing you stress.”

Seungmin’s words almost go unnoticed by Minho, spoken in a softer tone barely louder than Minho’s screams, But Minho did hear what Seungmin said and he appreciated every word.

Minho hadn't thought about his stress since Seungmin started, so he wasn’t exactly lying about cheering him up. It was just in an unexpected way.

Soon enough Minho grew tired, clearly showing in his voice. Seungmin finally realising he should stop when noticing Minho go limp in his arms.

“Oookay i think that’s enough cheering up for today” Seungmin chuckled, Slowing his tickles to a stop before removing his trap on the older. Minho slowly folded back up, showing his tear stained face accompanied with a wide smile. Seungmin couldn't have felt prouder of himself.

He then helped Minho get cleaned up and even pretended to be the audience to help him practice. All Minho’s worries, long gone by now.

“You’re going to do amazing Lee Know hyung” Seungmin pat Minho on the back, sending him off when his name was called by management.

“Hey uh,, Thank you, for everything” Minho quickly says to Seungmin before racing off to the stage.

Seungmin was left to himself to watch the show, Cheering on his cute hyung from behind the scenes.

Masterlist 🖋

#kpop tickle fic #kpop tickle #tickle fic #LerKnow:✍#kpop ticklefic #StrayKids Tickle #StrayKids Ticklefic

21 notes · View notes

kkpwnall · 2 years ago

Text

wine & dine

or: the quickest way to a man’s heart (and parts beyond)

((edit: now on ao3))

[ @corrodedcoughin laid down a reverse uno card, and i am extremely susceptible to gentle persuasion. i know you asked for headcanons, but apparently i have lots of thoughts about eddie taking a cooking class to wine and dine steve so this one got a bit away from me. anyway, hope you like it, and hope your day got better. ]

“Shit!”

Steve’s steps up the trailer stairs falter when he hears Eddie’s shout. He balances a tray of cupcakes and a bouquet of red daisies in one hand and knocks on the door.

“Fuck!” Eddie shouts again, followed by a loud banging and clanging.

“Eddie?” Steve knocks again. He’s been here often enough since they started dating that he knows he doesn’t have to knock, that he’s welcome to just walk right in. But it’s their date night, and he wants to do this right.

More banging, more clanging, more cursing. Then the alarm starts. That’s enough for Steve.

“Eddie!” He bursts through the door and skids to a stop halfway to the kitchenette. The trailer is full of smoke and Eddie is right in the middle of it, waving a dish towel in front of the screaming smoke detector. Steve drops the cupcakes and the flowers on the small kitchen table and grabs a flaming pan of… something off the burner, moving it to one of the empty burners further back on the range and cutting the gas.

Eddie gives up trying to fan the smoke away, and climbs up on the counter to rip the alarm out of the ceiling instead. Steve grabs his abandoned towel and flings open the kitchen window, fanning the smoke out as Eddie manages to get the thing off the ceiling without bringing the tiles crashing down on their heads.

He rips the batteries out of the back of it and turns to look at Steve, panting like he’s run a marathon. Eddie’s thighs are eye level with Steve, who has to drag his eyes up and away from his favorite gray sweatpants, the ones that always make him a little crazy, past the old sleeveless band shirt cropped above Eddie’s waist, to finally look up at him. Eddie’s curls are spilling loose from the bun he’d tied them up in, framing his flushed face and wild eyes.

“You’re early,” is all he says, looking Steve up and down. He suddenly feels over-dressed, standing there in the middle of the tiny kitchen with his maroon button down securely tucked into his best pressed khakis. He even wore the leather shoes with the little tassels on them.

Steve tugs self-consciously at his shirt and looks around the kitchen. “It’s date night,” he says simply. “Thought I'd see if you needed any help with dinner.”

It looks like Eddie’s used every dish in the house. Twice. He’s crouched on the kitchen counter now, looking like a wild animal that might bolt at any sudden movements. Steve slowly reaches out a hand and tucks some of those stray curls behind Eddie’s ear. “Seems like you’ve got it handled though.”

Eddie sighs and flops down so he’s sitting on the counter. He puts his head in his hands and mumbles, “this isn’t how this was supposed to go.”

“What are you talking about? I’m here, you’re here, you made us…” he looks over at the softly smoldering pan, trying to figure out what exactly Eddie’s been making, “dinner? Sounds like the perfect date night to me.”

Eddie just groans and shakes his head, hiding behind his hands and his hair.

“C’mon, it’s not that bad, it’s only a little burnt. We can still salvage it.” He throws the towel on his shoulder, and unbuttons his cuffs, starts to roll up his sleeves. “What are we having?”

“Beef stroganoff,” Eddie mumbles through his hands.

“If you’re going for medium well, I think it’s done.”

Eddie just groans. “Steve…”

“Hey, hey,” Steve puts his hands on Eddie’s wrists, gently pulling them away from his face.

Eddie looks close to tears. Steve brushes Eddie’s bangs out of his eyes with one hand and cups his cheek with the other. “I’m sorry. You just surprised me, I didn’t know you could cook like this. I thought we were gonna have Macaroni a la Eddie tonight.”

Eddie makes a face, and looks away, mumbling something so quietly, Steve wouldn’t have known he’d said anything if he didn’t see his lips move. Steve dodges down and around, trying to catch Eddie’s gaze again as he plays keep-away with his eyes.

“Didn’t catch that, Eds.”

Eddie sighs dramatically and half shouts, “I’ve been taking a cooking class down at the learning annex!”

“Oh…” that pulls Steve up short. That’s time, that’s effort, that’s… serious.

“The head chef at Enzo’s has a class every Thursday night, and it went fine when I made it there! I don’t know what happened tonight!”

“Well there’s your problem, you’ve got an Italian chef teaching you a German recipe.”

“Pretty sure it’s Russian, dude,” Eddie says with a roll of his eyes. “And it’s not just Italian, she teaches a different recipe every week.”

“Ok so, let’s figure this out. Where’s the recipe?”

Eddie looks around and fishes out a slightly singed, very crumpled piece of paper from under the corner of the cutting board with a half-chopped onion on it. It’s less a recipe and more doodles and half-written thoughts in Eddie’s chicken-scratch. Some of the ingredients don’t even have a measurement next to them, just ‘brandy,’ ‘Worcestershire,’ ‘beef’. Nothing like how Steve bakes, with everything carefully measured out and plotted before he even starts mixing.

It also becomes rapidly apparent that Eddie doesn’t have half the ingredients the recipe calls for, as Eddie directs Steve from his perch on the counter, translating his hieroglyphic scrawl and making substitutions on the fly. But together they manage to cobble together something that might resemble a technical definition of beef stroganoff. It’s got beef at least, all the burnt parts scraped off, and noodles. Steve figures it’s close enough.

Eddie rinses out an old coffee grounds can to put the flowers in while Steve plates their dinner. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve catches Eddie holding the bouquet to his nose, a soft smile on his face.

When they sit down at the scratched and dented and much-loved table, Eddie quickly scarfs down several bites. He chews thoughtfully and makes a face. Steve’s barely got the fork halfway to his mouth when Eddie whisks his plate away and throws the whole thing in the garbage can.

“Hey, I was eating that!”

“No, you’re not,” Eddie says fiercely. “You’re not getting poisoned tonight.”

Steve takes the bite on his fork defiantly and stares Eddie down as he chews. It’s somehow both over-cooked and underdone. He chews and chews and eventually swallows, and does not make a face.

Eddie stares back, hands on his hips, working his jaw back and forth. Steve twirls his fork in the air. “I came hungry tonight. I’ll eat it out of the trash can, don’t tempt me.”

He holds Eddie’s gaze for a beat longer, then he’s up and out of his chair, pivoting around Eddie like he’s on the basketball court. He just manages to stick his fork in the trash can before Eddie jumps on his back.

“At least let me get the plates out of there!”

“No!”

They wrestle for a few minutes, knocking things off the counter, and making a bigger mess than the one Steve walked in on tonight. Eddie grapples for his hands, but Steve’s arms are longer so he gives up and puts his hands over Steve’s eyes, making him stumble backwards into the refrigerator. The cereal boxes on top fall off as Eddie gives a small “ooft” and slides off his back.

Steve whirls around and pins Eddie to the fridge with his hands on his hips. His lips find Eddie’s and he kisses him fiercely, already breathless. Eddie holds out for a moment, just for a beat, then he winds his arms around Steve’s shoulders and sinks his hands into Steve’s hair with a deep sigh. His mouth parts and Steve deepens the kiss, titling his head just so, tongues brushing, hot, desperate, feverish. He drags his hands slowly up Eddie’s waist, toying with the raw edge of his cropped shirt, thumbing over his ribs. Just as slowly, he drags his hands back down, plucking at the waistband of those stupid sweatpants. He breaks the kiss to trail his lips along Eddie’s jaw, down his neck. He drags his tongue over Eddie’s collarbone and scrapes his teeth over the spot where his neck meets his shoulder.

“Why have you been taking cooking classes?” Steve breathes into his neck, trailing his nose back up under his ear.

“Don’t make me say it…” Eddie says with a groan.

“Eddie…” He sinks his teeth into Eddie’s pulse point, and soothes the bite with his tongue.

Eddie growls, he actually growls. Steve feels it rumble from Eddie’s throat under his lips as Eddie gently tugs on his hair in frustration. It sends a thrill of electricity straight down Steve’s spine, making him press closer. “Because I wanted to learn how to make fancy recipes for you! You deserve better than box mac and cheese!”

Steve pulls back, just slightly, just enough to see Eddie’s eyes, just enough so Eddie knows he’s serious.

“I love box mac and cheese. Especially when you cut up the little hotdogs to put in it? With the hot sauce? That’s what makes it Macaroni a la Eddie.”

“You’re Steve Harrington,” Eddie says desperately, “you deserve to be wined and dined. And I—”

“Hey,” Steve says, squeezing Eddie’s hips in his hands, shaking them gently. “You’re Eddie Munson, if anyone deserves to be wined and dined it’s you. I’ll get dressed up and take you out every night. Candlelight, roses, you name it.” He can’t resist, doesn’t even try to resist, diving back in for another kiss, gently dancing his fingers from Eddie’s hips to his waist, then smoothing them back down. “I’ll hold your hand and shout about it from the rooftops. ‘I’m dating Eddie Munson and we’re more in love than you’ll ever be!’”

“Always a competition with you jocks,” Eddie rolls his eyes and grouches, but his tone is fond.

“It is, and I’m winning.” Steve pecks a kiss on Eddie’s nose.

Eddie catches his lips, draws him back down for another kiss. It’s less frantic but just as heated. Until Steve’s stomach growls and Eddie breaks away laughing.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I came hungry,” Steve laughs, pressing his forehand against Eddie’s.

“Yeah, well… sorry I messed up dinner. I think my cheffing days are over. Glad you like box macaroni, ‘cause that’s all we’re having from here on out.”

“No way,” Steve says, shaking his head. “I just got used to fancy home cooking, I need to taste your other recipes. And you need a sous chef.”

Eddie looks at him skeptically. “Steve, I almost burnt down the trailer tonight, you really want to try that again?”

“Absolutely,” Steve says immediately, kissing him lightly again.

Eddie still doesn’t look convinced though, so Steve says, “let’s make a deal, ok? You can experiment as much as you want in the kitchen, try anything at any time, as long as you let me help. And, if it’s truly inedible, which I do not for a single second believe is possible, I’ll buy us a pizza. Deal?”

Eddie’s eyes flick between both of Steve’s as he thinks it over. He bites his lip and nods. “Deal.”

“Good,” Steve kisses him again, sealing the deal. He pulls Eddie away from the fridge and nudges him towards his bedroom with a wink. “Go get changed, we’ve got a date tonight.”

Eddie laughs, “what, you don’t like the sweatpants?”

“I love the sweatpants,” Steve says with feeling. “Which is why you need to get changed right now. Otherwise I won’t be able to keep my hands off you for the rest of our date.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, sweetheart,” Eddie says with a cheeky wink of his own.

Steve playfully slaps at his ass and starts looking for the phone book. “The Works?”

“No olives,” Eddie reminds him.

“Extra olives, got it,” Steve says, picking up the phone.

Eddie sticks his tongue out at him, backing away towards his room.

Steve quickly dials the number and fumbles through the order. They’ve got at least thirty minutes before the delivery shows up. If he hurries, maybe he can take those sweatpants off with his teeth.

407 notes · View notes

kitmoas · 3 years ago

Note

the amount of jokes nat and kate would make about mothers day to wanda would be insane. like the "happy mothers day mommy" becomes more irrating than comforting lol. But then toys just there genuinly making her breakfast in bed

We're going to ignore that this drabble is.. a few days late now. It's okay, its fine.

But happy mothers day to my favorite MILF, Wanda Maximoff.

Training Grounds Universe

Wanda laid face down on the couch, grumbling to herself as she heard the rambunctious laughter behind her. The two had been making jokes all morning and you were no where to be found, so the witch had to grumpily deal with them all alone.

Kate is bouncing on her toes around the couch, giggles making it difficult to hear her voice clearly. “Mommmmmy. Happy Mother’s Day, Mommy!” Her fist is gripping a now broken, crushed flower as she tries presenting it again to the older brunette.

Her laughter is met quickly as Natasha slides from the other side of the room, holding up a horribly drawn out Mother’s Day card on the back of a Chinese delivery menu. “Here Mommy, I made you a card too!” The widow is trying to shove the card into Wanda’s hand, but the latter is hiding as much as she can into the couch.

Her head whipping up to glare at the two just makes them laugh more, falling against each other on the opposite couch. “Just wait till Father’s Day, Daddy.” Her voice comes out in sneer through barred teeth. She sits up now, as she watches the two slowly retreat down the hall. Crossing her arms she pouts a little, confused where you were.

—————

It doesn’t take long for Natasha and Kate to get confidence again, the two finding Wanda in her office now. The witch is on her computer, planning something, when the two saunter in with smirks on their faces.

Kate slides onto the desk, smiling at Wanda as she glares up at her, before presenting her with a teddy bear. It’s holding a heart that says Happy Mother’s Day but the archer had taped a piece of paper that had Mommy’s scribbled on it over the former word. “Please oh please forgive me Mommy. It is your day after all.” The tone is entirely too mocking and it makes the witch’s skin crawl with irritation.

Natasha’s hands run down her girlfriend’s arms, as she wraps her in a comforting hug from behind. “Oh. C’mon Mommy. What’s a little fun gonna hurt on your day.” The chuckle that falls from her lips makes Wanda flick her in her nose.

The widow helps Kate down off the desk, as she puffs her chest in fake pride. “Let’s go Mutt, our amazing gifts and love is apparently not good enough for Mommy over there. Must be above all that.” The two mockingly whimper sadly as they head out the door, a shouted Happy Mommy Day thrown over their shoulder as they giggle.

—————

You’re struggling, a lot more than you should be, but you’re determined to do this on your own. Your own mother forced the entire family to go out for the day so you're grumpy that you only just got to the compound an hour ago, but you're determined to make the evening amazing. You had F.R.I.D.A.Y on look out as you tried your hardest to make an amazing dinner for Wanda. You knew that she would be at the normal weekly team meeting which gave you some time to go and set up in her room as well.

Having just sat down in the middle of your huge blanket fort the door slamming open made you flinch, but seeing Wanda stomp through the threshold made you smile. You leaned up to sit prettily on your knees for her, as you watch her shuffle into her room with her eyes glued to her phone. She had just leaned against the door when you finally found your voice, "Happy Mother's Day, Mommy." The tone was entirely too soft for your original mindset, but seeing her there made your heart flutter and you couldn't help it.

Her forest eyes snap up, and confusing fleeting anger settles into adoration. "Oh Little one.." Her voice trails off as she takes in the blanket fort with fairy lights and flowers. She sees the huge dinner and pretty drinks on trays, with a few wrapped boxes on the side. A couple books stacked in the corner and the remote on top of them was next to a pile of comfy looking clothes.

You squirm in your spot, nerves starting to get the best of you as you open your mouth to apologize for how late you are. You barely get the sentence out before Wanda is kneeling next to you, pulling you into a kiss that melts your entire soul. It's soft, and she guides you through it as she tilts your head to the side. It's the kind of kiss you know she saves just for you, and Natasha, and it makes your entire body vibrate happily. "Shh Мой красивый ангел. This is perfect, you are perfect."

There's tears in her eyes as she kisses you again before finally pulling away. The two of you settle into a soft and quiet night, and you can't help but realize how perfect your life is. Wanda doesn't stop smiling the entire night, her smile widening as you explain what each pile and thing is. The two of you end the night with some random show softly in the background as she reads out loud to you. You're curled up into her side, her heart beat lulling you to sleep.

Wanda pulls you closer, her hand rubbing the soft skin stretched along your ribs, as she reads to you softly. The muffled snores make her smile as she catches you falling asleep, and she realizes that all the teasing she endured earlier was worth every moment she spent with you.

#kitmoas writes #k: TGU drabble #kitmoas answers #k: training grounds #marvel fanfiction #kate bishop #wanda maximoff #marvel wlw #natasha romanoff #wandanat #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x female reader #wandanat x reader #kate bishop x reader #natasha romanoff x reader

758 notes · View notes