#he’s real bad at learning his lesson okay | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spatialwave · 9 months ago

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"all mine."

pairing: lee russell x fem!reader word count: 2.5k summary: as the youngest teacher on staff, you enjoy taking your peers out for a night of dancing, drinking and gossiping. lee russell was one of the few who joined, the married man you’d fallen hopelessly in love with. warnings/tags: mdni! smut, affair/cheating, dirty dancing, oral (m-receiving), verbal degradation, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, i feel like i made lee a little ooc so forgive me!

“oh, come on, lee,” your voice was soft and gentle, humming sweetly like a songbird, “it’s friday night, and you’d rather go home? really?”

hazel eyes settled on you as you shared a table in the staff room. it was sixth period and you had a planning period. you may have been the youngest member of staff, but you were the most organized, meaning you could waste the hour away with your favourite person at north jackson high.

vice principal lee russell.

your bottom lip was jutted out in a pout as he stared at you with his chin in both hands. he kept a straight face for a few moments until he scoffed and waved you away, “don’t give me that fuckin’ look, you’re too good at guiltin’ people into doin’ shit. you’re a bad influence.”

you gasped, sitting up straight, “that’s rich coming from you. i recall you asking me to help you dig dirt on gamby when he was pissing you off last year, and i followed him around for an entire saturday like some serial-killer stalker. a saturday when i was supposed to hang with my girlfriends, mind you, so don’t get all grouchy with me about being a bad influence.”

he pursed his lips and his gaze flickered between your eyes, “fine, if you must know, i’m starting to feel old as shit, okay? everytime we go out i end up at home at four in the goddamn morning with a migraine and the luxury of a two-day fuckin’ hangover” lee admitted, “it’s a real pain in the ass, you know. if it isn’t for you pukin’ your guts out and needin’ help home every weekend, i’d be back home in the comfort of my own bed at a normal fuckin’ time.”

you lips curved into a small smile as you listened to the man whine and complain, “not my fault that someone buys me shots all night.”

“and that was the last time because i learned my fuckin’ lesson. you can’t handle your alcohol,” he pointed a finger at you, lips lifting at the corners to match your sweet, little smile.

lee russell was smitten with you, and it was a slippery slope that he’d been sliding down. he was a married man, after all, but the marriage came with its own complications.

“great talk. i’ll see you tonight, lee.” you winked at him, taking your coffee, and giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze as you walked past him. lee’s eyes stayed on your body, watching your hips sway with each movement.

you had him wrapped around your finger, and he fucking hated it.

loud music and flashing lights filled your senses as you sipped on your vodka soda, waiting for your peers to arrive as time ticked away. amanda, bill and jen were always ready to crush back shots and forget about the bullshit week of classes with you, but even they were late.

you checked your cellphone as you leaned up against the bar, seeing if you had any missed messages from your colleagues. nothing.

you downed the rest of your drink and made a stop in the washroom to touch up your makeup and adjust your outfit—something special you wore in hopes to impress lee. a short, black skirt that hugged your curves and a black halter top held with thin straps that did little to cover your skin.

staring at yourself in the mirror, you felt a mix of emotions, mostly disgust and embarrassment. lee was married, and here you were hurting your feet with four-inch heels and wearing an uncomfortable skirt in hopes that he’d see you and want to ravage you.

all for him to not even show up.

you swallowed your pride. maybe you would forget about the married man if you met someone nice on the dancefloor. someone single and your age.

your heels clicked against the tiled floor as you left the bathroom, eyes flickering around the busy club when your gaze settled on the man you’d fallen madly in love with. he was at the bar with two shots in front of him, hazel eyes eagerly searching for you. you stayed in the shadows a bit longer, your heart rate skyrocketing as you watched him standing there in his dark grey suit with red-patterned button down peeking from underneath.

he was such a dork—a nicely dressed dork.

those eyes you loved flickered in your direction, and your stomach filled with butterflies when his lips pulled into a toothy grin. he hadn’t even needed to beckon you, your legs working beyond your brain as you sauntered to his side.

“lee,” you beamed, wrapping your arms around your friend and giving him a quick hug, smelling the expensive, intoxicating cologne, “you’re the only one who showed,” your breath tickled his ear as you spoke, pulling back with a coy smile in your lips. you were quick to notice the way he looked you up and down, settling on your revealed skin until he met your eyes.

“really? no one else came?” he was shocked as he spoke, “well, those assholes are missing out,” he slid one of the tequila shots over to you, “because tonight is the fucking night we party our goddamn brains out. we’re not goin’ home until the sun is risin’, baby, i promise you that.”

the casual pet name sent a shiver up your spine, “what happened to being too old?” you asked with a smirk.

“a moment of weakness,” lee replied, “i’m lee fuckin’ russell, i’m fuckin’ invincible. i wanna’ get goddamn wasted!”

the tequila was warm down your throat, but you cringed at the taste. your work companion cheered, inhaling through his teeth sharply, “shit, that’s good,” he breathed, waving for the bartender to bring another round as he laid out cash on the counter to pay.

the second one went down smoother than the first, a lazy grin smeared along your lips as you focused your attention back on lee. he was already staring at you, smirking.

“why are you looking at me like a piece of meat?” you teased, licking your lips, and smoothing down the front of his suit with a delicate hand. your nails were painted a deep shade of red that matched his shirt.

“i’m allowed to admire a pretty woman,” he replied oh-so confidently, and you knew that he had showed up to the club with a few drinks already in his system, “did you dress up for me?”

this was the side of lee russell you always enjoyed seeing. the side that focused his attention solely on you, and made you feel wanted.

“you’re so full of yourself,” you laughed, cheeks warm, “i may have kept you in mind when i was getting ready.”

“i can tell,” he cocked his head to the side, unashamed in the way he reached forward and brushed your hair behind your ear. this was wrong on so many levels, but the thrill was a high that you chased, and you dared not to think about the consequences.

with the alcohol coursing through your body and the loud, bass-heavy music guiding your thoughts to the filthiest parts of your mind, you snagged lee’s hand in your own and laced your fingers together. lee russell was in a trance as he watched you lead him where the crowd of clubbers danced together—bodies grinding and arms strung around necks.

you glanced over your shoulder at him, the hunger in his eyes easy to spon even under the unpredictable lighting.

you were about to spin around and face the man, but you were surprised when his free hand landed on your hip, squeezing over the fabric of your skirt. his chest pushed flush against your back, lips tickling against your ear and causing a shudder to escape your lips.

it had been a long time since you danced like this with anyone, most nights you’d jump around the dancefloor with amanda and jen, sharing drunken laughs as lee watched you from afar. this was better.

his hips moved effortlessly with the music, yours moving in tandem as your ass bumped and swayed against the growing hard-on underneath his suit pants. your arms lifted above your head, his hands sliding up and down your sides, feeling over the bare skin revealed by your skimpy outfit.

you looked around the club, blinking and unable to focus on anything with the bright flashes of neon lights and tens of couples in the same situation as yourself. the alcohol had skewed your vision and all you could focus on was how wet you were between your legs, and the feeling of lee’s fingers caressing your exposed skin

“lee,” you breathed his name out as your head lolled back to rest against his shoulder, able to brush your lips against his jaw while hands tightened over your hips, “this is… wrong,” you could hardly speak.

your morals were showing, but you hadn’t the willpower to stop.

“it’s okay,” he hushed, head tilting enough that his lips barely brushed against yours, and it was then the alcohol seemed to hit you all at once.

you were quick to turn around in his arms, wrapping them around his neck and forcing your lips together in a kiss that had been dangling between you two for months. he licked into your mouth, parting your lips until he could slide his tongue against yours, fighting for dominance that wasn’t hard to win and leaving you wanting more.

everything happened fast.

one moment you two were tongue-fucking each other on the dancefloor, the next you were hidden away in the washroom on your knees with lee’s hands in your hair. his length was pushed deep in your throat as you sucked him off, addicted to the way his face twisted in pleasure as your tongue glided along the underside of his cock.

the music was muffled, but the washroom was loud with the sounds of girls chatting and laughing. doing coke together in the stalls, pouring alcohol out from the flasks they snuck in, and making so much noise that you weren’t worried when lee would choke out a moan or gasp your name.

your hands pressed against the front of his thighs as you bobbed your head, lips perfectly wrapped around him as his cock twitched in your mouth.

“get up,” he moaned shakily, taking your hair in his hands and yanking you from his cock. lips parted from it with a soft ‘pop’ and lee wanted so badly to keep going until your makeup was streaming down your cheeks, but he needed you, “i want to fuck you, baby,” he murmured, staring down at your eager, young face, “you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“mhm,” you whimpered as you stood, and he pinned you against the door of the stall, “it’s our secret, just ours. i promise—”

he shut you up with his lips, a hand reaching down, so his fingers could push past your panties and waste no time in making you squirm and moan. two fingers plunged inside your cunt, and he smiled against your lips, “you’re so easy, aren’t you?”

the degradation wasn’t surprising, and you welcomed it wholly.

“bet you’ll take my cock so fuckin’ easy too, won’t you, baby?” he breathed heavy against your jaw, leaving sloppy kisses against your skin as his fingers stretched you just right, “do you want it? tell me how bad you want my cock and i’ll think about giving it to you.”

“lee,” you squirmed, hips twitching as you tried to stay upright with your legs spread for him, “i want it bad, really fucking bad. please, i need it.”

that’s all it took for lee’s impatience to get the best of him. he hooked one of your legs around his hips and replaced his fingers with his cock, slow as he filled you and pulling back to watch your pretty mouth go slack as your cunt ached around him.

“i’m not on the pill,” you were quick to whisper in his ear, your hips shaking as he started rocking his. you buried your face against his neck, scared to scream his name and let everyone in the bathroom know what you were doing.

“fuck,” he groaned into your ear, one hand on your thigh wrapped around him, the other against the metal stall door next to your head while yours tugged on his hair for dear life, “it’s okay, we’ll be okay. just—fuck,” he couldn’t finish his scrambled thoughts, his mind going blank as he fucked you slow and steady, “just shut up and take it.”

you listened obediently like you always had with him, your head falling back against the door as he fucked you, surprisingly tender in his movements. his hips rocked against yours slowly, stretching deep into your heat and leaving you a pathetic mess that could hardly stand on one foot.

“you’re so tight,” lee grunted, biting underneath your ear hard enough to leave a mark, “and you’re all mine, all fucking mine.”

you pressed a hand to your lips, shutting yourself up as lee’s movements quickened. the stall door started squeaking with each forward kick of his hips, and neither of you cared at this point. all you could do was take it like he told you, legs parted and cunt squeezing around his cock until he came, filling you like he dreamed about doing every night.

the following monday had rolled by too quickly for your liking. you’d spent most of your sunday alone in your apartment, recovering from your night out and wallowing in the guilt that came with being lee’s mistress of the night. he’d gone home before sunrise, dropping you off at home in your shared taxi and sending you off with a kiss that had you feeling all kinds of confused.

your stomach twisted as you thought about seeing him today.

the morning bell hadn’t rung yet, and you were lounging in the staff room with a coffee in your hands and listening to the chatter of teachers having their last few moments of freedom.

“bummer that you had to cancel saturday night,” amanda’s voice caught your attention as she walked into the staff room, “but i hope you’re feeling better. there is nothing worse than wasting your weekends being sick.”

you perked up, confusion on your face as she poured her coffee.

“after lee let us all know you weren’t feeling good on friday he planned for us to go to this new bar on the other side of town. it was actually really fun, but can you believe this?” she peered over her shoulder to look at you, “he didn’t even show up.”

#lee russell #lee russell x reader #lee russell x you #vice principals #lee russell fic #walton goggins #wordsbyspatial

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bigboysfalldeep · 2 months ago

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the rookie's rite of passage

Declan loved his new job as a police officer. Ever since he’d stepped foot into the academy, every push-up, every test, every drill had been worth it to finally wear that uniform. The navy blue sat perfectly on him, sharp and pressed, his badge gleaming, and his belt sitting snug around his hips. The hours were long, the expectations high, but it didn’t matter—he’d earned his place here, and he belonged.

For two months now, he’d been partnered with Sergeant Brooks, an older officer in his mid-forties with short-cropped graying hair and a sturdy, broad frame. Brooks was respected, one of those men who carried authority with him effortlessly. Everyone in the department said he was the kind of partner a rookie could learn from, someone who knew the ins and outs of the job beyond any textbook or academy lesson.

The two of them made an odd pair, Brooks heavy-footed and gruff, Declan lean and bright-eyed. Yet, they worked well together—Brooks providing the steady guidance and Declan always eager to absorb the advice. Today, their last shift of the week, Declan couldn’t help but feel satisfied. He was getting the hang of it—running plates, responding to calls, talking to the public. He was finding his rhythm.

“Almost done, rookie,” Brooks said as they sat in their patrol car, cruising down an empty stretch of road outside town. The late afternoon sun painted the horizon in gold and orange, and Declan felt that calm that came after a good day’s work.

“Yeah,” Declan said, glancing over at his sergeant. “It’s been a good week, hasn’t it?”

Brooks nodded, lips curling into a faint grin. “Not bad at all. You’re starting to get it. There’s only so much the academy can teach you, though. The real lessons—the real training—happens out here.”

Declan sat a little straighter at that. He liked when Brooks complimented him. “I appreciate that, sir.”

“Good man,” Brooks said. Then, as if considering something, he slowed the patrol car down and turned off onto an old, abandoned parking lot. The cracked asphalt stretched out before them, surrounded by a scattering of trees. It looked like a forgotten place, far enough from town that it felt isolated.

Declan frowned curiously. “Something wrong, sir?”

“Nah,” Brooks said, parking the car and shutting off the engine. He turned to Declan with that same faint grin. “I’m going to show you how I do field sobriety tests.”

Declan blinked. “Field sobriety tests?”

“Yeah,” Brooks said, unbuckling his seatbelt and stepping out of the car. “Come on. It’s a little trick of the trade. Maybe you’ll pick up something they didn’t show you at the academy. Besides, it's something we old guys show you rookies, consider it, a rite of passage."

Declan’s curiosity got the better of him. He climbed out of the car, shutting the door behind him, and followed Brooks to the center of the lot. The sun was sinking lower now, casting long shadows across the cracked pavement. A gentle breeze rolled by, rustling the trees, but otherwise, it was eerily quiet.

Brooks pulled a pen from his pocket and held it up for Declan to see. It looked ordinary enough until Brooks twisted it, and the tip lit up with a bright, pretty light. It was a vivid, almost hypnotic color—soft and warm. Declan stared at it a second longer than he meant to.

Brooks chuckled softly. “Special pen. Makes it easier for the subject to focus. You’ve seen this test before, right?”

Declan nodded. “Yes, sir. I know how to conduct it. Hold the pen twelve to fifteen inches from their nose, have them follow it with their eyes while keeping their head still.”

“That’s the basics,” Brooks said, holding the pen up. “But there’s a bit of an edge to it if you know how to do it right.”

Declan tilted his head, intrigued. “Okay, sir.”

Brooks gestured for him to stand still. “I’ll demonstrate. Just follow the light with your eyes. Keep your head still, all right?”

Declan nodded again. “Got it.”

The light flickered on, that same captivating glow drawing Declan’s gaze. Brooks began to move the pen slowly from side to side, the rhythm steady, smooth. At first, it was simple—Declan kept his head still, his eyes tracking the pen as instructed. But something about it felt different, strange.

Brooks’ voice came softly, low and even. “That’s good, rookie. Just follow the light. Let your eyes track the motion. Don’t think about anything else. Just the light.”

Declan felt himself relaxing, his shoulders loosening as he obeyed. His focus narrowed.

“Nice and easy,” Brooks said, the pen moving in the same slow pattern. “Now, as you follow the light, I want you to listen to my voice. You’re doing great. Just let it happen. All your limbs are feeling heavier now. Heavier and heavier.”

Declan’s brows knit faintly, but he didn’t break focus. The words were soft, soothing, weaving through his thoughts.

He didn’t notice it at first—the tingling sensation that started at the base of his spine and worked its way up through his body. It felt good, warm and safe, like slipping under a blanket on a cold night.

“Just keep following the light,” Brooks murmured. “Your arms and legs are so heavy now. It’s easier to let go. To just listen to my voice. That’s all you need to do. Nothing else matters.”

Declan swayed slightly, but he didn’t notice. The pen was so pretty, and Brooks’ voice so calm.

“Okay, sir,” Declan mumbled, his words sluggish.

Brooks smiled faintly, though Declan didn’t see it. The rookie’s movements had grown slower, his eyes glassy but still tracking the pen obediently.

“That’s right,” Brooks said, his voice barely above a whisper now. “Just follow the light. Don’t fight it. Don’t think. Let everything else slip away.”

Declan’s eyelids fluttered as he swayed more noticeably now, his lips parting slightly.

It was always so entertaining to watch. Brooks had done this before, of course—tested his little tricks on a handful of rookies over the years. Some resisted more than others, but in the end, it was always the same. They all sank under eventually.

And Declan? Declan was particularly responsive.

“You’re doing great, rookie,” Brooks said, still moving the light in slow, mesmerizing arcs. “Your body is so heavy now. So tired. But it feels good, doesn’t it? To let go. To relax completely. Just listening to me. Following the light.”

Declan swayed again, his breathing slower now. “Yeah... feels good,” he whispered.

Brooks chuckled softly. “That’s a good boy. You’re almost there. Just a little further.”

He slowed the movement of the pen until it hovered directly in front of Declan’s face, the glowing light reflecting in his wide, unfocused eyes.

“Now, rookie,” Brooks said softly, stepping closer. His free hand came up behind Declan, ready to catch him. “I want you to sleep.”

With that, Brooks tapped Declan’s forehead gently.

Declan’s body went limp immediately, his head falling forward as Brooks braced him easily with one arm. Brooks guided him down slowly, holding him steady as Declan’s weight sagged completely. His breathing was deep and slow, his expression blank and peaceful.

“Good boy,” Brooks murmured, his voice full of satisfaction. His hand came up to caress Declan’s cheek possessively, his thumb brushing over the soft skin. “You’re such a natural. I knew you’d take to this well.”

Declan’s lips moved faintly, as if murmuring something inaudible. Brooks tilted his head, smirking.

“You’re already repeating my words, aren’t you?” Brooks said softly. “You can’t help it. You’re so far under now. So deep.”

The real training could begin.

Brooks shifted, keeping his grip firm on Declan as he whispered into the rookie’s ear. “Now listen to me, Declan. Everything I say becomes the truth. Everything I tell you, you’ll obey without question. Do you understand?”

Declan’s lips moved again. “…Yes, sir.”

Brooks smiled.

“That’s right, rookie. Good boy.”

“Whenever you hear me say the word tingle, you will fall back into this blissful trance,” Brooks said, his voice calm and commanding, lingering just beside Declan’s ear.

Declan’s slackened form stirred slightly, lips parting to respond. “…Yes, sir,” he murmured, his voice distant, dreamlike.

Brooks smiled, satisfied. “Good. Now get up, rookie.”

He pulled Declan upright, steadying the younger man as his weight adjusted. For a moment, Declan swayed, but Brooks held him firm until he could stand on his own. The rookie’s eyes were still glazed over, unfocused, his face soft and relaxed.

Brooks stepped back just enough to take in the sight. The young officer stood there, obedient and pliant, his crisp uniform slightly disheveled. Brooks had always appreciated the look of discipline—the sharpness of the uniform, the pride in how it was worn. But on Declan? There was something more. Maybe it was the way the fabric clung just a little tighter than necessary to his lean frame, emphasizing his youth, his energy.

Brooks reached out again, letting his hand graze Declan’s cheek. Warm, soft skin met his palm, interrupted only by the faint roughness of stubble. A line of drool had slipped from the corner of Declan’s lips, and Brooks’ thumb brushed it away, his touch lingering.

“Attention, rookie. Stand tall,” Brooks commanded, his tone sharpening slightly.

Declan’s body reacted instantly, his training kicking in despite his dazed state. His spine straightened, his shoulders squared, his hands fell to his sides. He stood at full attention, chest slightly puffed out, chin raised.

Brooks smirked, circling him slowly. “Good boy. Flex those muscles for me.”

The words sank into Declan’s hazy mind like an anchor dropping into calm waters. Without hesitation, his body responded, his posture tightening further as his muscles engaged. His arms flexed subtly, his chest lifting as his pecs pushed against the tight fabric of his uniform.

Brooks stopped in front of him, his hands moving with deliberate slowness. He placed them on Declan’s shoulders first, feeling the tension beneath the layers of fabric. His grip moved downward, unzipping the rookie’s vest to give him some breathing room and better access.

“There you go,” Brooks murmured, his hands trailing over Declan’s chest. “Let’s give those muscles some room to work.”

The vest slid open, and Brooks let his hands roam. His palms pressed against Declan’s pecs, firm and defined beneath the taut fabric of his undershirt. He stroked along the curves of the muscles, his touch firm but not rough, kneading them slightly as he spoke.

“Good boy,” Brooks praised, his voice low. “You’ve been working hard, haven’t you? Feels like it.”

Declan sighed softly, his chest rising and falling under Brooks’ touch. The praise washed over him, mingling with the trance in his mind.

"Thank you, sir," he breathed deeply.

Brooks moved lower, his hands brushing over the flat plane of Declan’s abdomen, tracing the faint ridges of muscle beneath the shirt. His fingers lingered on the belt for a moment, then slid up again to feel Declan’s biceps.

“Strong arms,” Brooks said, squeezing the muscles appreciatively. “You’ve been putting in the effort. I can tell.”

Declan murmured something incomprehensible, his body leaning ever so slightly into the touch.

Brooks’ hands returned to Declan’s chest, stroking downward again—and that’s when he noticed it.

The strain in Declan’s uniform.

The fabric of his pants, usually crisp and smooth, had grown noticeably tighter at the crotch. A bulge pressed against the material, faint but unmistakable, the tension pulling the seams taut.

Brooks let his hand hover for a moment before placing it back on Declan’s abdomen, stroking idly. His smirk deepened.

“Well, well,” Brooks murmured, his voice almost teasing. “Looks like someone’s enjoying this a little more than they expected.”

Declan didn’t respond, his head tilting slightly as he let out another soft sigh.

Brooks’ hand trailed upward again, settling on the rookie’s chest once more. “That’s all right, rookie. You’re just doing as you’re told. And you’re doing so well.”

Brooks’ smirk deepened as he stepped closer, his hands firmly gripping Declan’s shoulders, steadying the younger officer as if grounding him. The rookie stood frozen in place, his breath slow and steady, his eyes unfocused but glimmering faintly in the dim light.

“You see, rookie,” Brooks began, his voice a low, velvety murmur, “this isn’t something every new recruit gets to do with me.”

He reached out, letting his hand rest possessively against Declan’s cheek, his fingers brushing through the soft stubble that framed the young man’s jaw. He tilted Declan’s head slightly upward, inspecting him as if savoring the sight.

“Just the eager ones,” Brooks continued, his tone almost mocking. “The willing ones. The ones who absorb every little word I say, who hang onto my instructions like they were born to obey.”

Declan let out a faint sigh, his lips parting slightly as he leaned instinctively into the touch. Brooks chuckled softly, his thumb tracing a deliberate line along the edge of Declan’s jaw.

“And you, rookie,” Brooks murmured, “you were so eager, weren’t you? Hanging on every word. Following every command without hesitation. It’s why you’re here now.”

Declan didn’t respond, his lips trembling faintly as if searching for the right words. Brooks didn’t let him. He moved closer, his hands sliding down from Declan’s shoulders to his chest, fingers splaying over the open vest and the taut fabric beneath it.

“You even asked for a tighter uniform, didn’t you?” Brooks teased, his grin sharp. “Trying to look sharp for me. Or maybe you were just showing off. I know what you are.”

His hand slid lower, brushing over the straining bulge in Declan’s pants. He stroked it teasingly, his fingers pressing just enough to make the tension more noticeable.

Declan shuddered at the touch, his breath hitching.

“That’s right,” Brooks said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know exactly what you are. And now, rookie, you’re where you’re meant to be. Obeying your sergeant. Doing everything I say.”

His hand lingered, stroking the bulge again, his other hand returning to cup Declan’s cheek. The rookie’s face was warm beneath his palm, flushed and pliant, his body practically melting under the weight of Brooks’ control.

Brooks took a deliberate step back, his boots scuffing slightly against the cracked pavement of the abandoned parking lot. He glanced down at them, then back at Declan, who remained standing tall, his uniform tight against his lean frame, his face blank and pliant.

“I think my boots need some cleaning, rookie,” Brooks said, his voice edged with authority. “Get to work.”

Declan blinked once, his glazed eyes flickering faintly with confusion before the command settled deep into his dazed mind. His body moved automatically, a puppet to Brooks’ will. Without hesitation, he dropped to his knees, the impact of his weight against the ground soft against the cracked asphalt.

Brooks watched, arms crossed, his smirk widening as the rookie leaned forward, his hands resting lightly on his thighs, his head bowing toward the polished black leather of Brooks’ boots.

“That’s a good boy,” Brooks murmured, his voice low and almost affectionate. “You’re learning fast. Just like I knew you would.”

Declan’s tongue darted out hesitantly, the tip grazing the surface of the boot. The leather tasted bitter, cool, and unfamiliar, but Declan didn’t pause. He worked his way along the toe, the motion slow and methodical, his breathing steady as if this was simply another task to complete for his sergeant.

Brooks chuckled, shifting his stance slightly to give Declan better access. “That’s it, rookie. Don’t miss a spot. I want them shining.”

Declan obeyed, dragging his tongue over the contours of the boot, his focus singular and unwavering. The light in his eyes had dimmed further, his thoughts clouded by the trance Brooks had carefully crafted.

Brooks let the silence hang for a moment, broken only by the soft, wet sound of Declan’s tongue against the leather. He drank in the sight of the rookie kneeling before him, so willing, so utterly compliant.

“You look good down there,” Brooks said finally, his tone almost teasing. “On your knees. Maybe that’s where you’re meant to be.”

Declan didn’t respond, his movements smooth and precise as he continued to clean the boot. A faint sheen of saliva coated the leather now, catching the fading light of the evening.

Brooks chuckled as he watched Declan work, the rookie's tongue dragging dutifully over the smooth leather of his boots. The sight was everything Brooks had imagined: obedient, eager, and entirely his. When the rookie finally paused, looking up with that blank, pliant expression, Brooks reached out and ran his hands along Declan’s sides, slow and deliberate, petting him like a dog.

“Good boy,” Brooks said softly, his fingers pressing into the firm lines of Declan’s waist, feeling the tension and warmth beneath the tight fabric of his uniform. “You’ve done well.”

He let his hands linger for a moment before stepping back and barking the next order. “Up, rookie. On your feet.”

Declan moved immediately, his body responding with automatic precision. He rose unsteadily, still swaying slightly from the trance, his eyes half-lidded and his face flushed. Brooks caught him by the chin, tilting his face up so their eyes met.

“There you go,” Brooks murmured, his thumb brushing over Declan’s cheek. His skin was warm to the touch, flushed with heat and something deeper. “That’s a good boy. You’ve earned this, rookie. All of it.”

"Thank you sir," Declan mumbled, his body heavy, but his mind satisfied by the praise.

Declan blinked slowly, his breathing shallow, and Brooks’ grin widened. His hand trailed lower, fingers grazing the damp fabric of Declan’s shirt, lingering on the tension in his chest before moving further downward.

“Oh?” Brooks teased, his tone mockingly surprised. His fingers stopped at the waistband of Declan’s pants, pressing slightly against the taut fabric before stroking over the obvious strain. A dark patch of wetness had begun to spread at the front, soaking into the material.

“Are you wet, rookie?” Brooks asked, his voice laced with amusement. “You are, aren’t you?”

Declan’s lips parted, a faint, trembling sound escaping him as his face flushed deeper.

"Y-yes, Sir," he stuttered.

Brooks’ hand pressed more firmly against the damp spot, stroking teasingly. “You’ve been working so hard for me, haven’t you? Following every command, doing everything I’ve told you. And now look at you.”

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “You’re exactly where you’re meant to be. A good, obedient rookie. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir,” Declan murmured, the words barely audible but filled with a dazed certainty.

Brooks smirked, his hand withdrawing as he patted Declan’s cheek possessively. “That’s what I thought.”

Brooks stepped back, his eyes trailing over Declan’s form once more, savoring the way the tight uniform hugged the rookie’s athletic frame. His smirk deepened as he reached out, smoothing the fabric of Declan’s pants, wiping away the faint remnants of gravel before his hands deliberately lingered over the tension at the front.

“This uniform looks good on you, rookie,” Brooks said, his voice low, a hint of possessiveness threading through his tone. “Especially these tight pants.”

"Thank you, sir," Declans voice was barely above a whisper.

Declan stood still, his flushed face tilted downward, his breathing slow and steady as Brooks tugged gently at the fabric, straightening it with deliberate care.

Brooks’ hands moved back up, zipping the vest closed again, patting Declan’s chest with satisfaction. “Perfect. Now let’s get to the car. It’s time for the final step of your training for today.”

Declan nodded, wordless, as Brooks guided him back to the patrol car. The older man opened the door for him, placing a firm hand on Declan’s shoulder to help him inside. Once Declan was seated, Brooks leaned over, pulling the seatbelt across the rookie’s chest and buckling it securely.

“There we go,” Brooks murmured, his hand brushing briefly against Declan’s chest before stepping back and closing the door. He circled the car, slid into the driver’s seat, and started the engine. The low growl filled the air, but Brooks didn’t move immediately.

Instead, he turned to Declan, placing a hand firmly on the younger man’s thigh, squeezing just enough to make his presence unmistakable. Declan stiffened slightly, his eyes flickering toward the touch before settling back into their glazed, empty stare.

“Now, rookie,” Brooks began, his voice soft but commanding. “I need you to focus. Focus all of you—every thought, every feeling—on your cock. Let it consume you.”

Declan’s breath hitched slightly, his chest rising and falling faster now, his body responding instinctively to the command.

“Good,” Brooks said, his hand remaining steady on Declan’s thigh. “Let it all out. Empty your mind. Don’t think. Just feel. Let it build. Let it take over.”

Declan’s eyes fluttered shut, his lips parting as he exhaled a shuddering breath. The tension in his body melted away, leaving him pliant once more, his head tilting slightly against the seat.

“And now,” Brooks continued, his voice dipping lower, almost a growl, “finish your training, rookie. Show me how far you’ve come.”

Declan let out a soft, trembling sound, his body obeying without hesitation as his mind emptied, focusing entirely on the sensation overtaking him. Brooks leaned back slightly, his hand still firm on the rookie’s thigh, watching with satisfaction as Declan surrendered completely, the final step in his transformation into perfect obedience.

Brooks’ grip on Declan’s thigh tightened as he leaned closer, his hand sliding up to firmly hold the rookie’s bulge. The strain beneath the fabric pulsed with tension, and Brooks’ touch remained steady, guiding him through the inevitable.

“That’s it, rookie,” Brooks murmured, his voice soft and coaxing. “Let it all out. Just focus on me, on my hand. I’ve got you.”

Declan’s breath came in shallow, shaky bursts, his body trembling as he surrendered completely. Brooks’ possessive hold didn’t waver, his hand firm and reassuring, controlling every motion as he guided Declan to release.

When it finally happened, Declan’s entire body shuddered, and he let out a low, involuntary groan. His muscles went slack, and he slumped back against the car seat, his chest heaving as the last remnants of tension drained from his body.

The wetness soaked through the tight fabric, against Brooks' palm. His cock throbbed visible, as he gave in completely. His eyes opened briefly just to roll back.

Brooks chuckled, withdrawing his hand but letting it linger on Declan’s thigh, a silent reminder of his control. He surveyed the rookie with satisfaction: flushed, pliant, and utterly spent.

“Good job, rookie,” Brooks said, his voice filled with pride. “You’ve learned fast. You’ve done everything I asked of you, just like I knew you would.”

Declan’s head lolled slightly to the side, his glazed eyes fluttering shut as his body relaxed into the seat.

“Now, rest patiently,” Brooks instructed, his tone soft but firm. “It’s almost time for you to come back. I’ll tell you when we’re at the station.”

He leaned back, gripping the steering wheel as he glanced at Declan one more time, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk. The rookie was perfect—obedient, eager, and exactly where Brooks wanted him. The car rumbled softly as Brooks turned his attention back to the road, driving toward the station with his rookie still deep in his trance, waiting for his sergeant’s next command.

A few blocks from the station, Brooks pulled the patrol car to a stop once more, the engine rumbling briefly before he turned it off. He leaned back in his seat, turning toward Declan. The rookie was slumped slightly, one hand lazily stroking his chest through the fabric of his vest while the other rested over the damp bulge in his pants.

Brooks smirked, shaking his head with mock disapproval. “Now, now, rookie. We need some composure,” he chided, reaching out to straighten the fabric of Declan’s uniform. His fingers lingered over the taut, damp patch, smoothing it as if to hide any evidence of the rookie’s earlier release.“

We don’t want the other rookies to know, do we?” Brooks continued, his voice low and teasing. “They might get jealous.” He chuckled softly, his hand drifting up to caress Declan’s flushed face, his thumb brushing over the rookie’s jawline with possessive care.

“Don’t worry about the older guys, though,” Brooks added with a smirk. “They already know.”

Declan’s lips parted slightly, his breathing steady and shallow, completely under Brooks’ control. Brooks let the silence linger for a moment, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles along Declan’s cheek before giving him his final instructions.

“Time to come back, rookie,” Brooks murmured, his voice soft but commanding. “You won’t have any vivid memory from today. Just the little conditioning remains. Understood?”

Declan gave a slow nod, his head tilting slightly into Brooks’ touch. “Understood, sir.”

Brooks leaned closer, his hand moving to cup Declan’s chin. “You won’t bother with the wetness. It will feel natural soon. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Brooks pulled back slightly, his smirk returning. “Then rise and shine, rookie. Tingle.”

Declan blinked, his eyes slowly coming back into focus. He shifted slightly in his seat, a faint frown crossing his face before he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re at the station already?” he asked, his tone light and confused. “Must’ve dozed off.”

“It’s fine, lad,” Brooks said with a warm smile, patting Declan’s shoulder. “Didn’t miss anything important.”

Declan smiled sheepishly, still rubbing his chest absently, his fingers drifting over the wet patch without realizing it. Brooks noticed, his amusement hidden behind a professional veneer.

“Listen,” Brooks said casually, leaning back in his seat, “word has it we might be partnered for a while. If you want it, that is.”

Declan’s face lit up, his excitement palpable. “Really? I’d love that, sir.”

Brooks chuckled, gesturing toward the station ahead. “Good. Let’s head back, get changed, and call it a day, huh? You’ve earned it.”

Declan nodded eagerly, already unbuckling his seatbelt as Brooks started the car again. The sergeant smirked to himself as he pulled into the station lot, already planning the next stage of the rookie’s training.

Brooks guided Declan out of the car and toward the station, his hand lingering on the rookie’s back in a steady, reassuring gesture. Declan walked beside him, a slight bounce in his step despite the lingering haze from earlier.

As they stepped inside, the buzz of the station enveloped them. A few older officers lounging near the breakroom glanced up, their eyes immediately settling on Declan. Knowing smirks spread across their faces, subtle nods exchanged as Brooks and his rookie passed by.

“Evening, Sergeant,” one of them called out casually, his tone dripping with amusement.

“Evening,” Brooks replied with a grin, his voice calm and composed.

Their eyes darted to Declan, whose flushed face and slightly rumpled uniform made him an easy target.

“Rookie’s coming along nicely,” another officer said, his voice low enough that only Brooks caught it.

“Oh, he’s going to be such a good cop,” another muttered, barely hiding his chuckle.

Declan didn’t notice the teasing, too focused on walking straight and making his way to the locker room. Brooks kept his hand on Declan’s shoulder, steering him through the space with quiet authority, his expression unreadable but for the faintest trace of satisfaction.

Inside the locker room, Brooks stood back as Declan began unzipping his vest. The younger man’s movements were slow, deliberate, his focus entirely on the mundane task of changing out of his uniform.

“You did well tonight,” Brooks said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of the room.

Declan looked up, his face brightening at the praise. “Thank you, sir. I’m just trying to learn as much as I can.”

“You’re learning fast,” Brooks replied, stepping closer and adjusting the collar of Declan’s shirt with deliberate care. “Keep it up, rookie.”

Declan nodded, his chest puffing slightly with pride as he turned back to his locker. Brooks allowed himself one more smirk, the knowing chuckles of the older officers still echoing faintly in his ears.

The rookie had no idea how much he stood out—or how much he was already fitting in.

Brooks leaned against the row of lockers, watching as Declan fumbled slightly with his belt, the rookie’s fingers working the buckle with the kind of earnest determination Brooks found endlessly amusing. When the uniform finally came off, piece by piece, Brooks made no effort to hide his curiosity.

“Go on, rookie,” he said smoothly, gesturing toward the showers. “I’ll handle the report this time. Paperwork’s a pain—you’ll learn it soon enough.”

Declan gave a grateful nod, oblivious to the sharp, appraising look Brooks cast his way as he walked toward the showers, his bare back glistening faintly under the fluorescent lights.

Brooks chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as he turned and exited the locker room. The soft hiss of the showers starting echoed behind him, and he smirked to himself as he made his way down the hall to the breakroom.

The moment he stepped inside, the older officers lounging around the table exchanged knowing glances, their smirks widening.

“Back already, Sergeant?” one of them asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Rookie busy cleaning up?” another chimed in, his tone laced with amusement.

Brooks grabbed a cup from the counter, pouring himself a coffee with deliberate slowness. “He’s doing just fine,” he said, his voice calm but with an edge of satisfaction.

“Bet he is,” one officer muttered, earning a round of muffled chuckles from the others.

“Looks like he’s taking to your methods real well,” another added, nudging his partner with a grin. “Real eager, that one.”

Brooks turned, leaning against the counter with his cup in hand, his expression unreadable except for the faint curve of his lips. “He’s going to be a damn good cop,” he said simply, his tone loaded with meaning.

After some time, Declan emerged from the locker room, freshly showered and dressed in his casual clothes. His hair was still damp, and he wore a comfortable, relaxed expression, a quiet smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He stepped into the breakroom, glancing around before his gaze landed on Brooks.

“See you on Monday, rookie,” Brooks said with a playful pat on Declan’s back, his tone light, though there was a certain weight behind it. The kind of weight that suggested there was more than just casual camaraderie between them.

Declan nodded eagerly, still buzzing from the events of the evening. “Yeah, see you then, sir.” He flashed Brooks a smile before turning toward the exit.

A few older officers, who had been quietly chatting nearby, exchanged amused looks as they watched Declan go.

“You’ve got him well trained, Brooks,” one of them commented, his voice teasing but with a note of admiration.

“He’s gonna be a handful,” another officer added with a knowing grin, leaning back in his chair. “He doesn’t even know it yet, but he’s already hooked.”

Brooks chuckled, his eyes narrowing with amusement as he took another sip from his coffee. “He’s got potential. The rookie’ll be fine,” he said, but there was an unmistakable pride in his voice.

“I’m sure he’ll be quite the asset,” the first officer agreed, his tone light but with a hint of admiration. “Takes a special kind of rookie to make it this far.”

Brooks didn’t respond immediately, but his lips curled into a small, satisfied smile. He watched as Declan headed out the door, unaware of the subtle teasing from the older officers around him. He knew his rookie was already on the path to being just the kind of cop Brooks had been looking for.

“Time will tell,” Brooks murmured under his breath, his gaze lingering on the door where Declan had just exited.

#tf story #male hypno #male hypnosis #male transformation #male tf #gay hypno #gay hypnosis #gay hypno story #gay mind control #male mind control #Male sub #Just imagine brooks voice as Cpt price

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the-newlymadeweeb · 1 year ago

Text

I Gotcha.

Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo!reader

Description: three times you promised Luke that you got him. The two times he struggled to believe and finally when he did.

A/N: the gif is not mine, credits to the owner.

************************************************************

The days spent at camp immediately after his failed quest were arguably the worst of Luke's entire life.

He had to drag himself back home with a burnt chunk of an apple, a dragon tooth and half his face destroyed.

You had nursed him back to health. Spending three days straight in the infirmary. The solo quest was a bad idea and you had known it. Luke had gone alone in some sort of attempt to prove himself, seeking glory but now this entire thing had backfired and you couldn't help but worry.

When he awoke he had stared in mute horror at the mirror you held up to his face.

"I tried to minimise the scarring as much as I could, Luke. I couldn't remove it entirely but with the correct balm and scar creams it'll fade," you had explained.

Luke knew you were the best the camp infirmary had but he couldn't explain the rage that boiled within him. This fruitless quest, with its dumb replication to Heracles' and his quest all for the sake of earning his father's attention had permanently marred him.

Physical proof of his father's neglect right there for everyone to witness.

And he would have to carry this stupid scar for the rest of his life.

"Luke?"

His gaze snapped to meet yours, softening slightly, as you placed the mirror facedown on his bedside table.

"Yeah?"

He didn't want to see sympathy in your eyes, no doubt too many campers will be looking upon him like he was a pitiful kicked dog, nor did he want to see disappointment; he wasn't quite sure how he'd stomach that.

But your face held neither of those emotions, instead a strong conviction resided in the lines of your face, lines that you were too young to have, that marked the effects of stress no adolescent should feel.

"I'm gonna take care of you Luke, okay?" You reached out and cupped his uninjured cheek, "I gotcha. I always gotcha."

And wasn't that something.

He reached out cupping your face in his hands, this was his whole world.

"Okay baby; yeah, please."

****************************

Luke had miscalculated. He'd failed to retain the master bolt and the helm of darkness.

Now, he was being punished. Severely. And he hated it but he deserved it. He'd let Kronos down, he needed to learn his lesson so he never makes the same mistake.

The nightmares cut too much into reality though sometimes. His entire body lit aflame but it always got so much worse when he was forced to face a scenario where he had to cut you up so that your pieces would replace the Titan.

He never failed this test, but it always took the most out of him. Even if you always understood his anger, he wasn't sure you'd understand his methods; and at the crack of every dawn, he'd escape his cabin and run to the lake where he knew you'd always be. Like clockwork, watching the sun rise.

This time his skin buzzed with the phantom recollection of his nightmares, he had to scrub at his eyes to clear his vision a few times, mistaking the blood on his hands to be real in his fatigued state.

You sat on the deck, eyes fixed on the changing colours of the sky. He could hear your voice humming a soft nameless tune. This was your ritual, your futile attempts at interactions with your father as he burst across the heavenly dome on his sun chariot.

Nonetheless, Luke always enjoyed the sound of your voice. He'd appreciate it if Apollo never would.

You'd sense his presence as you always did in the early hours and you'd beckon him towards you.

Sitting by your side felt right, amidst all the tension he'd been under. The weight of all his plans. Your song was familiar, the heat and strength of your figure a comfort.

"Nightmares again?" You asked, knowing the answer regardless.

He'd nod.

There were a few truths he was allowed to tell you. Sometimes if he said it with enough of himself, he could fool himself to believe that all you knew weren't mainly lies.

"Come here."

And you'd guide his head to you lap, gentle– loving, like the first rays of the sun. You would card your fingers through his curls, and every now and then lightly ghost your fingertips over the scar on his face.

On occasion, Luke would dream that you were healing him, erasing his scars, erasing his pains.

"I gotcha Luke," you'd murmur, "I always gotcha."

Some mornings he'd fall into a dreamless sleep.

************************

"I gotcha baby," oh he's missed that voice, "I always gotcha, Luke." It's been too long. Days, weeks, months. Years.

You were crying.

Percy and Annabeth were crying too but–

You're crying.

Don't cry.

He's really tired, and it's getting difficult to take a breath. He figures this is the feeling of death and he's trying to not be afraid.

You reach for him, and he forces himself to open his eyes and look at you.

It's not so bad. Your face has always been what he'd like to see last. It's just–

There's so much to say. So many things he has to tell you, to apologise for, to confess, to love and there's no time.

You're so beautiful.

Even covered in soot and monster dust and blood.

Your hands cup his face, fingers instinctively brushing his brows and scar. You keep mumbling small comforts, little assurances. But you don't promise life, because that wouldn't be true and while Luke has been a deceitful liar, you have never been one yourself and you won't lie to him even now.

But you promise that you got him. And he believes you.

"I know baby," He huffs and tries to say, "but now...it's time– time to let me go."

It's a struggle. His vision is blurry, he's really tired.

So he focuses on the feel of you instead, letting his eyes close. This is just like falling asleep.

*****************************************************************************

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fic rec #pjo fandom #pjo fanfic #percy jackson #luke castellan #annabeth chase #lc

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hotheadedhero · 10 months ago

Note

Ok question how would the tmnt bros (all 4) react to someone having a crush on them, and they confess, but the turtle rejects at time... but later on he realizes no wait I actually do like them!

But theres already been like a good month or more since the confession and their crush has been sorta avoiding them by hanging out with the other turtle bros and though still being polite, they avoid like being alone with their turtle crush and try to act like they don't have a crush still(but they do)

Sorry if I didn't write the request right! and thanks for your writing I love how you write the turtles!

Frothing at the mouth. No words. Speechless. Thank you so much anon! This request is absolutely amazing and tugged at my heart in all the good ways, you beauty. So glad you like my writing tyty <3 Apologies for the wait btw :] I might have meddled with the idea a bit depending on the turtle but I hope this is the kind of thing you were hoping for! May even make a part 2 continuation because there was just so much to write, this was really a lot of fun so thank you again :P I let fate decide which version to base this on and we got Bayverse!

Rejection, Realisation, and Regret

Warnings: bad language, grovelling turtles for their idiocy, angst with this in mind, oh these boys are some real idiots

Bay Turtles x Reader

Leonardo

Turns you down as gently as he can but it still feels like a sucker punch to the gut. It may sound calloused but he's a ninja, a mutant, a protector before anything else and that includes being someone's boyfriend. With a constructive discussion on the matter, he can only hope that you understand his position. You assured him that you did.

So, then, how is it that he barely gets a conversation in with you these days? And why does that fact burn a hole in his stomach? This pit, although metaphorical, weighs down heavily on him. Assumably, he’s missing one-on-one with a friend until it truly occurs to him just what exactly is going on. There's a lesson to be learned here, he's sure - a saying that goes around as if taken from an ancient script: you don't realise how good you have it until it's gone. You're not gone perse but you make a point of avoiding him individually. As well-mannered as you try to be, he's noticed and he's noticed the hurt in his belly that comes alongside it.

He thought things were okay, that despite the rejection, you would still be able to comfortably continue your friendship without any issues. It seems he managed even to fool himself. Being so caught up in what it means to be one of New York's self-acclaimed protectors, he was completely absentminded to the feelings that had been bubbling up inside him all along. No wonder he's been losing focus on his training as of late. He has attempted to try and talk to you about it but to no avail. Has your heart really been that broken?

For once, he doesn’t know what to do, or what decision should be made. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place right now. Who's the one person he can turn to at a time like this? Come on. Who else would it be?

"Sensei, you know better than anyone that our position comes with complications. That we as ninjas are sworn to certain oaths.”

"Yes, the duty of yourself and your brothers is indeed a heavy burden. Responsibility comes with risk and consequence as I am sure you are well aware of by now.” Splinter watches his son bow down as he thoughtfully strokes his beard. "However, sensei, rat, master; alongside all of these things, I am foremost a father who wishes to see his sons be happy. You're in love, are you not?"

Leo’s attention quickly turns up from the floor to his master. How had he figured it out? Must be that parental instinct. Either way, he’s thankful for that in some respect. It makes this easier. Less complicated.

The turtle nods and breathes out, "I am, Sensei."

"That's what I thought." His father lays a hand over Leo’s shoulder before it taps him against the side of his head. "Now, what are you waiting for? Talking to me isn't going to change the situation."

Splinter is right. It's high time for him to get out of his funk and strategise the best way to make amends. He can only hope he isn’t too late.

Raphael

Rejects you thinking it was some sick prank curated by his youngest brother or something. There's no way you have a thing for him. He's a mutant and you're a human. How could someone actually be in love with a freak like himself? That's why he blows up in your face when you attempt to pour your heart out to him. Whatever joke you thought would be funny, isn't.

He may have taken things out of proportion. This much is made obvious enough by the poorly thought-out excuses you make just to avoid being alone with him. Yeah, that's right, he thinks. You should feel ashamed for trying to pull a stupid stunt like that, for trying to mess with him. He's standing firm on his self-assurance. Don't think for a second that he's going to lose sleep over what he said that day.

However, life has a very funny way of playing its own game. It all comes to fruition when you're laughing with the leader of the brothers. When your hand landed on his forearm, Raphael was struck with something fierce. The shot of jealousy to his heart almost takes him for a wild spin but he disregards it for typical Leo/Raph rivalry. Until that night, anyway. This man is tossing and turning in bed, ruminating on that sickly feeling in his chest; losing sleep over it. No. Surely not. He isn't in love with you. This isn't something that's been in the making for however long now. So what if you managed to calm him down quicker than anyone else he's ever known? Big whoop if you used to make a point of checking up on him when no one dared to go near him. It’s no big deal that you’d hype him up and cheer him on before each mission.

Fuck. He's been in love with you this whole time, hasn't he? Oh, you have got to be kidding. This was probably the only chance he had at something close to normal in his life and he trampled over it like it was nothing. That's assuming it was even genuinely meant from your end to begin with. He still has his doubts all things considered. Either way, he can’t just sit in bed and wallow in his head all night. He needs some air.

"What crawled up your shell and died?"

Great. He had hoped to get some peace and quiet. Not that this city knows the definition of either word but that isn’t the point.

"Not now, Jones. I ain't in the mood."

Casey's head rolls against his shoulders and he sighs, "Hey, if this is to do with (Y/n) ignoring you, what do you expect? 'Can't just make someone cry and expect things to be okay after without an apology."

Raph's mask slowly descends and hoods over his eyes, those of which are now staring down the detective.

"Oh, shit. You didn't know?"

No. No, he did not. He really made you cry? Why would you-? Ah. Two things smack him up the head at this moment: you meant every word of what you admitted a month ago and he is an absolute asshole. Despite already living in the sewers, he feels like the scum of the Earth.

That's it. No more holding back. No more being chicken. He might have ruined his chance but he can at least try and make things right by you.

Donatello

Aloof. Absolutely aloof and utterly clueless to the fact that you were even trying to admit your feelings for him. Yet, the way that the whole situation plays out makes it seem as though he had denied you. His head is usually stuck in a book or on one of the many screens that litter his quarters. What can you really expect of him? Unfortunately, this isn’t something that comes to mind nor is taken into consideration when you attempt your casual proclamation. With his eyes glued to his computer, his inattentiveness could only be read as uninterest to which you find it’s probably best to withdraw yourself.

In the weeks to come, it still doesn't even occur to him that you were confessing. The only thing that dawns on him from your weirdly abrupt absence is how strange it feels without you around. You still engage in your regular visits to the lair but are always elusive to his corner. Had he missed a memo? He can't quite place a finger on your change in behaviour. Then he realises just how much he enjoys and misses your presence. Even just how you'd pass by his little section of the lair and do something as small as asking him what he's working on. The small details should always get their chance in the spotlight but he managed to miss them when they were right there in front of him. When you were in front of him.

Subsequent to this steady progression of fluttering heart palpitations upon the thought of you and his drying throat when he tries to speak your way, he decides to take some action. At least, that’s the plan he has in his head. You hardly look his way, so he needs to find a way to gain your attention. There must be some way. With somewhat of an idea in mind, he dials a number through his computer and lets it ring.

The other side of the line picks up and there’s a voice. “If this has anything to do with goons, aliens or whatever trouble you guys have gotten yourselves into, I don’t want any part of it.”

“Relax, Vern. This is something that entirely requires your expertise without life endangerment. I need to ask about women,” Donnie confirms, cutting right to the chase.

There’s a pause. "What-?” Another longer pause and then an inhale. “Can't you just ask one of your brothers or something?"

Yeah, right, because his family of sewer dwellers are so well-equipped for this matter. Even asking for Vern's aid is pushing the boat a little but it's better than nothing - a baseline structure of what to expect is all he needs. The internet would probably be more reliable but it doesn’t include that vital real-world experience.

"You engage in frequent courting. By all accounts, you're the only person I know who has enough field experience to give advice."

This might be giving Vern too much credit but this is a surefire way to get what he wants. Feeding a man's ego can accomplish many things. Call it manipulation of the circumstances if you will but no harm done.

"You know what?” There’s a brightness in his tone, an uptilted cadence in Vern’s rhetorical question. Bingo. “You being the smart one has never been more accurate, Don. Alright, I'll help you."

The notes he takes are unfathomable but he wants to make sure that everything is thought out with careful precision. That's not even taking into account that he needs to muster the courage to ask you out in the first place.

Michelangelo

One would think that this guy would be jumping with unparalleled joy to have someone confess their feelings for him but he's got eyes for someone else. April O'Neil is his one true babycake, his angel face, the first love he had ever known. He turns you down in the friendly way one would expect him to if not a little cocky. Who wouldn't want a piece of the MC Mikey? There aren’t any hard feelings though, right?

Well, no but the sting that follows is still too much for you to handle. Too much in fact that you decide it's best to recoil into a shell of your own and spend less time with the loveable terrapin. Such a shame as well considering you're missing out on your regular gaming sessions together. It probably sucks big time to be rejected but he meant no harm by it. He thought you could still hang out as you normally would. Perhaps you just needed some time. That’s what he reckoned until the days turned to weeks and those weeks to almost two months.

He’s subjected to playing bystander when you hang out with his family, barely getting a chance to have a word with you alone. If this treatment is good for anything, it gives him a chance to spectate and watch how you interact with those around you rather than directly with him. He recognises how much he adores that sparkle in your eyes, the playfulness of your tone when you crack out jokes with his brothers, how you light up the entire lair when you make your presence known. There is this unshakable spirit within you that he somehow never noticed until a few days prior when you took the liberty of playing an incredibly bold practical joke at Casey's expense. Man, this turtle's heart sored higher than it ever has before, which is saying something considering he had to jump out of a plane once.

Well, colour him surprised. He was so sure of himself that New York's favourite journalist was the only one for him but it seems he was wrong. Oh, man. He's feeling pretty bad now. He can surely make up for what happened though, right? Hopefully. There's only one way of finding out but he has one thing he needs to do first before talking to you.

"I'm sorry, angel face. My sights have been led astray. My loyalty shouldn’t be doubted but it’s for someone else now.”

The way Mikey is knelt down, head lowered with April’s hands in his own is a perplexing sight if not curiously amusing. His feelings and the pronounced “dibs” on the reporter have been no secret but his recent infatuation with you hasn’t been much of a secret either. Not to her anyway but she likes to think she’s good at picking up on these things.

“Just know that you'll always have a special place in my heart,” he finishes, ending the overly dramatised display by holding a fist to his chest.

"Considerate as always." Her expression is somewhere between humoured and endeared, fighting the shake of her head at how adorably ridiculous this turtle can be. "Thanks, Mikey."

Now that's out of the way, he can go into this with a clear head. Although, the only thing really going into this is going to be all of his heart.

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tangyangie · 5 months ago

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𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗌—! 🖇

𖡼𖤣𖥧𓋼 with. keiji akaashi 𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

LESSON #0 — CONVINCING ꩜

part of him wants to refuse outright. what do you mean you want his help? you want to learn how to kiss other guys? it's bad enough that he likes you, and now you're going to rub it in by giving him a taste of what he can't have. but, when you look up at him with those eyes—those beautiful, pleading eyes—he can't find it in him to say no. this is a common occurrence. you've gotten him to do your laundry on numerous occasions. this is also how you got your dorm pet(s).

"i said, no."

"but, keiji, please? she's so cute, isn't she?"

"we already have one!"

"yeah, but he's lonely!"

"i'm not cleaning after them, though."

you're going to kill him. you're actually going to be his 'cause of death. sure, you might think it's normal; it's only kissing your best friend as practice for another guy. but, to him, it's way more than that. you're like a cigarette—he wants to try you, so bad, but he knows that once he does, he won't ever be able to go back.

"it's not my problem if you like someone. look up a tutorial on youtube if you're so curious," keiji hums, purposely avoiding eye contact—he's just so interested in this show.

"i have! all they say is 'once you get into it, you'll instantly know how to do it'. i mean, it's the dumbest thing i've ever heard. i didn't look up a step-by-step to skip from looking at them to after the kiss."

he simply shrugs. "they're right, you know. it just clicks when you get comfortable."

"well, i'm not going to be comfortable if i don't know what i'm doing, and i'm scared i'm gonna mess up and embarrass myself in front of him!"

"...ask someone else."

"keiji, no, please! you're my best friend, no one else will get it if i ask! they're just gonna think i'm weird!" you plead, kneeling down and hugging his leg as a last resort.

"what are you—"

"please, keiji?" you interrupt, not wanting your plans derailed.

"i..." he sighs, running his fingers through his hair before begrudgingly agreeing. "fine, okay."

with an excited squeal, you stand up and intertwine your fingers with his. "thank you! what's first?"

"wh—now?!"

LESSON #1 — EYES 🦢

he loves your eyes. he thinks that they're absolutely gorgeous. with or without makeup to enhance your eyelashes, each wisp of color within your iris is a pathway that he wishes he could explore, simply by staring into your eyes for hours. he's a complete moth to the flame, because he swears that if he looks too long, he'll fall in.

"hey, keiji—is there something on my face?"

"what makes you think that?"

"...well, you've been staring at me for a good minute. is it paint, or something?l

"...okay, first things first—do not open your eyes unless you're ready to pull away. no one wants to see that right now, for one, and it just makes a kiss seem... not real. like you're not into it," he explains, pausing his show and turning to sit sideways on the couch. he lifts his glasses off from his nose and sets them on the coffee table.

"is that why you take your glasses off?" you ask, tilting your head curiously. "is it to prevent you from looking, or something?"

"um, no. i just don't like the idea of them fogging up," he says, thinking about what else to elaborate on. "closing your eyes is just because it'd be really awkward if you both stared at each other in the eyes."

"okay, i get it, i think. when do i start closing my eyes?"

"whenever you start feeling awkward. or, probably better for you—because you're so inexperienced—is to just mirror him."

"oh, yeah, i'm sooo inexperienced," you scoff, leaning back.

"you asked for my opinion."

"fair enough. what next?"

LESSON #2 — HANDS 𓇼

to him, hands are the most useful part of the body. it controls everything—volleyball, writing, hobbies... even eating, though you can technically do it otherwise. it's just messy that way. one thing he does take pride in, though, is how his look. it's mostly your fault—you compliment them all the time.

"keiji, your hands are so pretty. you've got such nice nails, too."

"um... thank you? i think?"

"what do you mean, you think? you should let me paint them."

"try not to do too much with your hands. it'll just be distracting you or him from the kiss."

he'd almost wanted to intentionally give you bad advice. maybe, that'd keep you to himself. but, unfortunately for him, he's smarter than that. he knows you'd be hurt, and he knows very well that it probably wouldn't work in the first place, and that whoever you'd wanted to kiss would just laugh adoringly at your inexperience. he knows he would.

"where do i put them?"

"honestly, it can be almost anywhere you want."

"in between your toes?"

"...i don't want to know what's going on in your head. try to keep them on the upper body, at least." keiji says, rubbing his forehead with two fingers.

"come a little closer," he motions.

you crawl across a few cushions before plopping down in front of him.

"now, try and find the most comfortable spot for your hands so that you're not deciding in the middle of a kiss."

panic visibly sets within you, and you hover your hands in a multitude of places, when keiji gently holds your wrists as a request for you to stop.

"hey, calm down—here, i'll guide you. shoulders first," he hums, bringing your hands to rest on his shoulders, allowing you to get a feel for it. "next..." cupping his face, resting on his chest, arms around his neck... before you reached having your fingers tangle in his hair.

"oh, this is nice," you say, immediately settling as you gently scratch his scalp with your nails.

"yeah? here?" he asks, trying not to focus on the pleasurable sensation that would lull him to sleep if it were under any other circumstances.

you nod, playing with his curls. "definitely."

he barely notices the soft smile that slips onto his features, simply watching the glint of fascination in your eyes. "now, i'm gonna put my hands here, okay?" he whispers, trailing his hands down to gently grab your waist. "is this okay?"

you nod, still mesmerized by his hair.

"moving on..."

LESSON #3 — LIPS ଳ

you talk way too much, in his opinion. not as much as bokuto, but a lot. to be fair, everyone talks a lot compared to his normal days. even though he may complain in his mind, he knows in his heart he doesn't care at all. he loves watching your lips move, memorizing how each individual letter looks on your lips. sometimes, he'll try to guess what you're listening to based on how well he can read your mouthing now.

"...are you listening to beabadoobee?"

"you listen to bea??"

"yoshimi, forest, magdalene?"

"wh—how'd you know? are you psychic?"

now comes the part he's almost dreading most—not that he could ever want to avoid your lips. he's just nervous. he takes a deep breath, starting his explanation.

"when you're kissing someone, don't tense up. you need to completely relax. no one wants to kiss a rock."

"weird metaphor, but i get it."

"you slightly part your lips. just a little bit."

"how much is a little bit?"

"guess."

you slightly drop your bottom lip, and it's almost perfect. keiji lifts his hand to your chin, just barely pushing your jaw up with his finger.

"do you want chapstick?" you ask.

"are you trying to tell me that my lips look dry?" he raises an eyebrow.

"no! your lips look nice. i'm just saying, i've heard it helps." you defend, getting the chapstick out and applying a quick layer.

"sure," he sighs, leaning a little closer and allowing you to drag the chapstick on his lips for what seems like forever (it was two seconds. he was just focused on you instead).

"ready to focus?" he asks, watching you apply yet another layer. it felt like you were teasing him.

"yep," you smile, re-parting your lips. "like this, right?"

he nods, beginning his next explanation. "don't do that when you kiss people. if you start talking in the middle of a kiss, make it relate to the experience, at least. if you start talking about the weather, you're getting kicked out."

you offer a sheepish grin. be continues.

"anyway, when most people kiss, they tend to lean their heads to the right, but it really depends on the person. i go right, which means you should also go right. with me, at least."

"how do you know that? just how many people have you kissed?" you tease.

he purses his lips. "two."

"was one boku—"

"doesn't matter."

you stifle your giggle, waiting for keiji's next words.

"kissing isn't as difficult as you think. it really does just come to you."

"oh, plea—"

"i'm not done. i'll do my best to help you, but when you kiss someone, you're not really paying attention to that. it just kind of happens."

you nod and stay quiet as he thinks for a moment. "i tend to put whoever's bottom lip i'm kissing in between mine."

"should i try and do the same thing?"

"no. n—not with me, at least."

"m'kay."

"and after a few kisses like that, you just keep going until it gets more intense."

"speaking of which..."

LESSON #4 — TONGUE 🌊

he doesn't have much to say about this. you use it lots? ice cream, popsicles, cleaning off butter knives—he could go on. you made him try the cherry-stem test once, though. he passed, obviously—that was definitely the main reason you asked for his help specifically.

"i don't get it. what's the point?"

"apparently, if you can tie a knot, you're a good kisser."

"hm. let's see if it checks out."

"what're you expecting? you look like the only thing you've kissed is your pillow."

"do i really have to explain this?" keiji sighs, burying his head in his hands for a moment.

"yes, come on! i need this one the most. what do i do with my tongue?"

"it's going to be so weird to talk about. and it's gonna sound so odd. i'm warning you."

"i understand the risks and i read all the terms and conditions. give me the goods. services? i dunno."

"definitely do not start off with it. if you shove your tongue into his mouth, he's gonna shove you away from him."

"understood."

"honestly, don't do anything about it. let him slip it in and take control of it. you lightly suck on it, i guess."

"ew, you're right. i don't wanna hear about this."

"i told you," he responds, leaning back and resting his head above the armrest, his hands acting as a pillow under him.

"do you really shove your tongue down their throat?"

"god, no."

LESSON #5 — PUTTING IT ALL TOGETHER 𓆝

he knew it was coming. he knows you too well to think it'd be as easy as telling you what to do. unfortunately, he plays an incredibly well-developed game of denial. again—you've done this on multiple occasions. half of your essays are written by him. half of the recipes you've learned? him.

"thanks for teaching me how to make this! it's really good. i should get more recipes from you."

"i'm starting to doubt you actually listened."

"of course, i did!"

"then why did i end up making the whole thing?"

"i cut up the vegetables."

"after complaining that the onions were making you cry, so you couldn't cut the others."

"okay, then... i think that's it, right?" you hum, leaning forward and climbing onto his lap. "that's all the information itself?"

your action causes a sharp intake of breath from him, who does his best to hide it. he props himself up onto his elbows to get a better look at you. you look really, really pretty from this angle.

"i—what are you doing?" he stammers, his cheeks turning a pinkish color. in his mind, he blames it on the tv's screensaver. it's on green right now; so, what?

"is this not how people kiss?" you ask, tilting your head to the side.

"it is, but..." he averts his eyes.

"keiji," you whine, leaning down closer until you're laying on top of him. "i need the practice."

the way you say his name nearly makes him choke, but he covers it up. he's really going to try not to mess it up for you, even though it may benefit his (one-sided) rival.

"okay, fine," keiji sighs, sitting up again. he doesn't dare say anything more lest he seem too eager.

your eyes flit to his lips, barely breaking your shared gaze for less than a second. for this moment, you take in his current aesthetic. flushed, messy-haired, (how you wish he hadn't taken his glasses off so that they could be slightly askew), heavily breathing, shirt ridden up just enough for you to see his stomach... you could find so many little things like this to name.

and, finally, taking in what you've learned, you lean in just a little closer. tilting your head to the right, slightly parting your lips, and itching to tell him just how pretty he is. but, he said no unnecessary talking.

he mirrors your actions, feeling his heart beat so fast that he's genuinely scared he may have a heart attack.

when your lips touch, it's not like the movies. you don't picture a firework exploding in between you, and there's no dramatic music.

there is, however, the most polite man you've ever met on the other side. he's so gentle, kissing you slowly so that you don't get overwhelmed. you didn't even notice how his hands had gotten to cup your face, but everything about the interaction is soft.

it's almost like he thinks you're delicate.

you're both a mess of heavy breathing, your lips sloppily moving against his. and he was right—he does think that your inexperience is cute.

his lips move over yours, the soft texture you'd expect from no man but keiji as ever so gently nips your bottom lip.

your hands crawl up his nape to settle on the roots of his hair, tangling your fingers in the familiar curls as refuge from the unfamiliar feeling of the kiss. he lets a quiet sigh into your mouth, the vibration of the sound waves against your lips causing you to nearly melt.

noticing his hands move from your face to your neck, you take the moment to be just a little cheeky.

"i thought you said not to move your hands much, keiji," you teasingly whisper in between breaths.

he simply scoffs against your mouth. "actually, i said no talking," he murmurs, becoming less and less conscious of what he's doing.

the more your fingers massage his head, the more he wishes you were his. he hasn't kissed anyone like this before—it's simultaneously nothing special yet the most amazing thing he's ever experienced.

his hands slide down your body to rest at your waist, feeling your breath hitch the slightest bit. mumbling an apology he doesn't really mean, he leans forward a bit more to tilt your head back. only then, does it dawn on him.

LESSON #6 — ESCALATION 🦈ྀི

he didn't think it'd get this far. he really didn't. he should've known better than to assume he had the self control for this. looking back on it now, he really did care for you too much. the time he spent with you felt romantic—like an old married couple that always argues yet never harbors the negative emotions. but, alas, you weren't his to care for... or, so it seemed.

"you really should be more careful. you're going to get seriously injured if you keep this up."

"no, i won't, 'kaashi; you don't know anything."

"do you know how many band-aids i've gone through in the past ten minutes?"

"...shut it."

"we should stop," he whispers, barely audible. he doesn't pull away, though.

"why? you want to?" you frown against his lips, brushing the corner of his mouth to place another kiss there. maybe, he just needs some convincing... if this is about what you think it's about.

your hands trail from his neck to his abdomen, your fingers tugging on hem of his shirt. you lean forward and cradle his head until he hits the armrest, and you realize he's much more susceptible now. good morals—he feels guilty about kissing you.

fortunately for him, you don't actually like someone else. dragging the fabric of his shirt up his stomach, you deepen the kiss as a form of distraction. it was a feeble attempt; he noticed right away.

"wait, wait," he breathes, pulling back for a moment. he can't seem to find his words when you look at him like that, your gaze all sparkly and enticing. "i thought you had your eyes on someone. why are you—?!"

"it was an excuse. i just wanted to kiss you," diving back in without giving him a chance to respond to the shock you've just supplied him.

you open a singular eye, noticing how his are wide open. "what happened to closing your eyes?" the giggle that travels through you isn't enough to soothe him. he needs to hear it directly.

his hands lift to your face, gently pushing your head back with his fingers tangled down to your scalp as he shares your stare. "y—you mean it? you actually want to kiss me?"

"was the fact i've been trying to get you to make out with me for the past 20 minutes not proof enough?"

he shakes his head. "you said that you wanted lessons!"

"so that i could kiss you! you're too smart for this, keiji," you laugh, brushing his dark strands of hair out of his face.

he groans, rubbing his eyes. "god, you're..."

"a genius? yeah, i know." you teasingly raise your eyebrows, as you reach over for his glasses.

the confusion evident on his face, his eyes follow your hand. "i was gonna say crazy," he mumbles, watching you place the glasses on his nose.

"but you've gotta admit," you grin, leaning closer again, "i was able to get this far without you suspecting anything. i'm at least a little smart, right?" he flinches when you tilt his glasses to the side.

"what's that for?" he asks, avoiding the question.

you kiss his nose before moving to his jawline. "keep your glasses on next time we kiss. it's so hot when they're crooked.

he gulps. "next time?"

"mhm," you sigh, connecting your lips to his.

notes. this is probably university au 'cause i didn't have a specific time in mind but too old to be high school too young to have a working job... you get the point

also... can you tell i've never actually kissed anyone ha ha so silly (i'm going to cry)

edit: me forgetting to put tags

#akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu akaashi #hq akaashi #hq #akaashi fluff #fluff #keiji #hq x reader #reader fic #bokuaka #a little bit

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classypauli · 1 year ago

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She’s the Man

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x fem Reader Summary: With the new university Y/N meets new opportunities, plays on the football team, meets new people, makes new friendships, and maybe finds something she didn’t think would find.... But being dressed as her brother can create little problems in the future. She’s the Man AU A/N: So this fic will be based on the movie She´s the Man, it won´t follow every step of the story, I had it in mind some time now and have been thinking about if it is a good idea or not but well, here goes nothing… Not forcing anyone to read this, idk just wanted to try something new. Warning: first time writing, bad grammar and punctuation in complex sentences, spelling errors, boring and awkward Word count: 5k I DON’T OWN THE MOVIE THIS STORY IS BASED ON OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS THAT ARE IN THERE. IT’S ONLY FICTION AND NONE OF THIS IS REAL.

Chapter 1

Y/N is sitting in her brother´s room, eyes wide open „You can´t be serious! How am I supposed to do that?!“ she shouted at him. „I´ll be thankful to you till the end of my life.“ well, that won´t be for long if she decides to kill him right now. „Charlie-“

„Please Y/N you are my only hope, you know I´ve been wanting to go to this festival for so long, you know what it means to me, please.“ he puts his hands in a praying position, and now his puppy eyes are the only thing his sister can see. „Ew get away from me.“ she pushed him into the chest as he stumbled back.

Charlie, Y/N´s twin brother, wants her to impersonate him. Yeah, you heard it right, he wants his sister to go to his school and act like him this whole time that he will be on tour. He is in the band, their parents aren´t really happy about it, they say that music won´t get him anywhere and he should concentrate on the more important stuff. Y/N´s sad because she was always like if something makes you happy, that´s all that matters, right? But he isn´t giving up, he still hopes that he can convince them about being serious with music.

And don´t get her wrong, she´d do anything and everything for him, he is her brother, her twin, but this... She´s not so sure, it´s just too much, what if they find out? What if she isn´t good enough and mess up? What would their parents say? Oh God too much pressure on her shoulders and she didn´t even say yes.

But his sad and disappointed eyes are her last straw. „Gosh.... m'kay.“ Y/N whispered under her breath almost unnoticed. Charlie´s eyes lit up like Christmas lights and started running to his sister yelling „Thank you thank you thank you! I promise I´ll do anything for you!“ He almost suffocated her when they hugged. „Careful with your words and now get off I can´t breathe!“ he immediately pushed himself off and started his little winning dance.

She rolled her eyes at him „So how we are going to do that? I mean, I need to look exactly like you, act like you, talk like you, and EVEN SMELL like you? Well now I´m not so sure if I can do this I mean-“ she looked at him and scrunched up her nose. „Oh, you didn´t you f-“ he hit Y/N with the pillow in the head. She started laughing at her brother's offended face. „Just kidding stop being a baby.“

He stood up and started thinking „Well we look alike, like a lot, so there won´t be much work in the face-“ „What?!“ „-but you need to learn how to walk like me and dress like me. Stand up we are having our first lesson.“

They were practicing her walk, or more like his walk, and she got it pretty right. Clothes won´t be a big problem cause they wear uniforms and wearing baggy clothes is one of the most comfortable things for her. She doesn´t know how she will do it but for her brother, she needs to at least try.

A couple of days passed and now Y/N is sitting in the passenger seat, Charlie is behind the wheel. Sun is shining through the windows of their parent's car. She is wearing her school uniform and her leg is bouncing up and down in black uncomfortable shoes.

„Stop Y/N it will be okay-„ she turned to him „Well it´s easy for you to say! You aren´t the one dressed as me!“. Okay maybe she´s a little dramatic but she´s shitting her uniform pants right now, oh God please let this be over already.

Y/N didn´t even notice and they were already in front of the school. Students were walking back and forth, laughing and greeting each other after the holidays. The girl wasn´t a social kid growing up. I mean she doesn´t have a problem with talking to others, the problem is in the start of conversations. She can try as hard as she can but she never knows how to begin. Her mind suddenly stops working and becomes quiet. She´s not shy, at least she doesn´t think she is. For the longest time of her life, she thought that she was an introvert but as she was getting older she realized maybe she´s just a quiet extrovert. Y/N likes to listen to people more than talk to them. She likes to be by herself but also enjoys the company of the right people.

„Okay we are here, “ Charlie said „Just try to enjoy it, it will be fun“. Yeah, his twin is boiling with excitement.

They got out of the car, her brother went to get her bags from the back and she just stood there. Just like a kid for the first time going to school, doesn´t know what's waiting for them. She just realized that this is real and that what is she going to do is a crazy idea.

„Ch-Charlie I think I changed my mind I can´t do this-“

„Y/N STOP-“

Walking to her dorm room is the next thing, bags in hands trying to find her room. Finally, she sees the right numbers and she can´t wait to put these heavy bags in there. She unlocked the door and walked straight to the room.

„Oh hi!“ Y/N heard from the other side, looked up and her eyes met with the unknown boy.

„I´m Percy.“ he walked up to her and offered his hand „I´m guessing you are my roommate?“ He was a little taller than her and had long brown hair.

„Yeah, nice to meet you my name´s Y-Ch-Charlie, my name´s Charlie.“ she said as she shook his hand. Damn! She needs to concentrate more.

„Well Charlie pleasure to meet you“ he smiled „I´d like to sit and talk with you but I have to go now, you can put your clothes right there, and on the left side of the door is the bathroom, thankfully every room has one so not all students have to share the same one.“ Well, at least it would be easier for her to shower. Y/N thanked him as he walked away. With a sigh, she fell right into her new bed. She started unpacking and soon walked out of the dorm. She doesn´t know where is she going but she will find out. Silently cursed at her new roommate for rushing away even though he knew she was new. Y/N was in her world passing around the corner of the hallway until someone smashed into her.

“Oh shit I’m so sorry!”

The girl moved her gaze to the voice and there was a guy, he was taller than her and looked like he was in a rush, he was holding some clothes which were probably PE uniform.

“I didn’t mean to do it I swear I didn’t see y-“

“Hey it’s okay nothing happened but damn you are in quite a rush”. she laughed and he started to rub his neck.

“Yeah, I’m heading into football practice and I’m late again, oh God my coach is going to kill me, last time he said if this happens one more time he will kick me out of the team.” he kept rumbling but the only word Y/N could catch in his sentence was “football”.

“But hey at least you are okay, I’m glad nothing serious happened-“ she cut him off.

“Wait you play football?”

“Uhm yeah, doesn’t it look like it?”. He asked in a small voice as if he was sad about it. What? He definitely looks like someone who does some sport, he is big and tall with his big arms wide shoulders, and athletic legs.

“No I didn’t mean it like that-” he kept watching her with curious eyes “-I just used to play football too and yeah, I don’t even know why I react-“ his face lit up.

“You can go with me! We have enough space in our team!”

“Thank you but am not sure if-“

“No! Please! I’m not going to force you but you can at least come and look, please-“ he was giving her puppy eyes now “-if you come with me then the coach would forgive me maybe if I said I was bringing you-“

“So that’s what it is about!”

“No! Well- maybe- but it would be cool to have someone new on our team! And we are missing a midfielder because of his injury, so you could fill up his place”. Well maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea, she can at least try. Y/N looked up at him and nodded.

“YES! Come with me- wait my name’s Mason”

“Charlie” she introduced herself with her brother's name.

They shook hands and started to walk into a field.

„You are new here, right? I don´t think I saw you before.“-

Y/N was now standing inside the cafeteria, she was looking around for a spot when suddenly she saw Percy, he was sitting in one of the middle tables with some of his friends. Before she could do anything he looked up and saw her.

„Charlie!“ he waved his hand for her to come over to the table, his friends already looking at her. Well, there´s no way to go back now.

„Hey, I wanted you to introduce me to my friends.“ he said smiling „This is Hunter and Georgie.“ Y/N shook their hands and took a seat.

„Nice to meet you, Charlie, “ Hunter said, „so how´s the first day goin´?“

„Well I´m just warming myself in here but so far I don´t have any negative words.“

Georgie took a sip of something he had in his cup and looked at her „That´s good, if you have a problem with something just ask.“

Hunter laughed at Georgie „Yeah but I don´t recommend asking Georgie for help with a class, he is the one who should seek help with that.“

„I´m not!“ he said offended. Y/N could only laugh at their bickering. „Don´t mind them-“ Percy wanted to continue with his sentence but his eyes caught something more interesting. She followed his gaze until she was met with three girls who walked into the cafeteria. They sat opposite their table and were discussing something that Y/N´s ears couldn´t hear because of the loud noise of other students in the room. She knew that Percy knew them or at least one of them, she would be an idiot to not catch that stare he was giving them but she was fighting with inner thoughts if she should ask or not. Before she could even decide Hunter saw that and turned around to look.

„Oh, “ he said, and soon Georgie followed Hunter's action and started laughing. „you may wonder why is Percy stuck. “ he said to Y/N. „Well Charlie, the one girl in the middle is Jenna, and Percy here has been trying to get with her forever but with no answer “. Oh, so he was looking at her. Yeah no wonder, she caught Y/N´s attention pretty quickly. She was really attractive even from this far. „He tried everything.“ Georgie continued „from writing her letter and getting it into her locker, drawing her portrait and leaving it on the seat she used to sit at to ask her in person but nothing!“ he laughed and Percy punched him into his shoulder. „This is not funny! I don´t know what to do anymore!“.

„Have you thought about that maybe she didn´t see you in that way?“ Hunter asked as he turned back to him.

„Of course you idiot but at least she could give me a chance“

„Well, I don´t know I mean... it´s a little strange I can´t even remember if I have ever seen her with someone. There are lots of guys who wanted to get with her but she turned them down, maybe she doesn´t want a relationship now-“ Hunter still kept looking at him with a serious face „-Or maybe she just thinks you are a creep.“ Georgie said and started laughing again. Percy groaned and put his head in his hands. Y/N could only smile at this boy, he was hilarious.

They were sitting there and talking mostly about classes and professors in school. She learned that Percy is in an art club and loves to paint. That would answer the question of why he has so many paintings on the walls of his side of the room, Y/N must admit he is talented and has a unique style. Hunter and Georgie, the two boys she just met, were friendly, they always tried to keep her in a conversation and asked her questions about her last school, hobbies, and family. The girl may don´t know them for too long but she can already say that she feels comfortable with them.

Y/N was speed walking out of her last class, she had a long day and couldn´t wait for it to end. Tomorrow she´s going to have her first training and she wanted to get herself some sleep. She was thinking about things to do when suddenly her body crushed into someone. Yeah, again. She heard a small ugh and the sound of books falling on the floor. Well only her luck. She picked herself up and looked at who was the other person. She didn’t know if her eyes were making some magic on her or not. She realized what happened and started picking up her books from the ground.

“I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to!“

“No no, it was my fault.” Y/N looked at her and was met with big doe eyes. Her brain couldn’t process what was happening. In front of her was Jenna, the girl from the cafeteria, she was wearing a school uniform and stood shorter than Y/N, her dark brown eyes, which she couldn´t see a couple of minutes ago clearly, matched her long hair.

Suddenly the door from a principal’s office opened and he walked out. „What is-?“ he started but as he looked at the scene in front of him he smirked. „Getting to know the opposite sex, are we? Male-female dynamics. All that sexual tension. It's all part of the high school experience. So continue. Please. But keep it clean, though. OK. Abstinence is key. Abstinence is... the best way to not is to not... yes.“ he slowly took back steps and closed his door.

„Well“ Y/N sighed and looked and the other girl „That was awkward... is he always like this? Friendly?“ she asked her. Jenna softly laughed „Are you kidding? That´s him being rude“.

„Okey... ehm... I´ll continue with my way.“ She didn´t know why she was acting like this. „Here are your books.“ She handed her them and shot her apology for eyes „Sorry again I didn´t mean to.“

Jenna only looked up at her with wide eyes „It´s okay, nothing happened “ she smiled „Hope to see you again“. Y/N quickly walked away leaving the other girl behind her. Damn, she needs to put herself together.

The next day Y/N felt a lot more relaxed, she spent almost all afternoon with Mason and she decided that he just become her favourite person. He was so kind. Keeping an eye on her and always asking if she needed anything. He was outgoing and even though her new friend was the polar opposite of her social life, Y/N couldn´t help but feel comfortable with Mason.

The whistle was heard from the football field and Y/N was trying to find her way of getting the ball into the net. God, she missed it so much. Her legs were running like there was no tomorrow, others got in her way to stop her but they never succeded, Y/N was too good. She knew that. In the past, when she used to play, she was one of the best, if not the best, in her team. She truly enjoyed it and now that she finally had the football ball on her foot there was no way to stop her. Y/N shot the ball into a net and it flew straight to the right top corner of the goal.

„What? Charlie! How are you this good man?“ Mason ran to her and grabbed her shoulders smiling. „And here you wanted to decline my offer!“

„Well I got a little lost.“ They started walking slowly to get their water as they got a quick pause from the coach.

Some people were sitting on the tribune but she didn´t mind. This wasn´t only a football field, there were a lot of sports grounds and right now there were a lot of athletes too. She scanned the chairs when suddenly she caught the girl. The same girl she saw for the first time in the cafeteria and the second time ran into. She had books on her knees and a bag beside her, her hair was waiving in soft wind. But there is no way that she came to look at the football training, right? She was waiting for someone, maybe her friend. But as she kept looking, their eyes met and Y/N quickly looked the other way. This was embarrassing. Luckily she was saved by the whistle and that made her jog her way to the coach.

At the end of her training coach called the girl on the side „Good job today Y/L/N, I would be glad if you come next practice.“ he said as he waited for her answer.

„Yes, you will see me, thank you for having me.“ He only nodded his head and walked away. Mason came to her side and was smiling widely „You impressed him today, I wouldn´t be surprised if he let you play in our next game.“ his eyebrows went up and down.

She was glad that she let herself be talked into this, Y/N hadn´t felt this alive since she could remember. It was for sure a good idea and couldn´t wait for the next practice. As she was walking back she shot one last glance at the tribune only to find the spot Jenna sat in empty.

Y/N was leaning on a table, they were waiting for their professor to start a class. She´s standing beside Percy, Hunter, and Georgie. They are talking about plans for the weekend. Y/N doesn´t really listen she just looks like she is listening.

She was thinking about her brother and how she would call him when her class was over. He already texted her, asking how it was going and if she had any troubles. She misses him, but she won´t tell him that of course, and how could she not, he is her twin, her other half.

The teacher walked to their group with a bucket in her hand. „Everyone, please take a slip and read off the name of your lab partner.“ Percy was the first one who grab the folded paper, he got Emma Myers. Emma was one of the group of girls they saw in the cafeteria. „Oh you are lucky, she´s cool.“ Georgie says and Hunter nods at his words.

Y/N unfolded her paper “Jenna Ortega” she says out loud and Jenna immediately looks at her with a smile. “You know each other?” Percy hissed at her. “No, not really” quickly turned away with a slight hint of red cheeks. “Switch up with me please” he went to grab the paper with the girl´s name on it. “I can’t! She already heard me, what would she think?” the girl grabbed her things and went to her new lab partner.

“Hi.. so you are my lab partner?” “Yeah,” she said smiling.

„I don´t think we introduced each other the other day.“ she was hitting on the day they both ran to each other. „No we didn´t, I´m Jenna.“ she grinned. „I´m Charlie.“ She almost forgot about her brother. Y/N felt Percy´s gaze but didn´t mind him. It´s not her fault that she got lucky to get her as a lab partner, right? It happened because of something she can´t control.

“You know ehm... the whole dissecting thing kind of freaks me out. So, think you may have to take the reins on this one.” she said slowly.

Jenna leaned into the table with her eyes still on the other girl.“Wow, no guy would ever admire that” Oh f- Y/N quickly realized her mistake. What is she even saying? “Shit, you are right” Her hands started to sweat but before the inner thoughts and anxiety could grow even more the brown-haired girl grabbed her hands. “No! It’s okay you don’t have to be embarrassed, it’s cute”

Y/N moved her eyes from their hands and looked at her. God her doe eyes, they were beautiful, so innocent and pure. She lowered her gaze at her smiling lips and then her dimples, at that action Jenna smiled even wider. “So today we are going to-“ she quickly pushed her own hands away and looked at the professor acting like she wasn’t just drooling over her classmate. This will be long.

“So how it went?” Percy asked.

“What do you mean?”

“The talk with Jenna, how it went? What were you talking about?” Y/N turned to him placing books on her table. They were in their dorm right now since their classes were over. “Nothing, just school work” Well she wasn’t lying. They were just talking. He was silent for a minute, looking out of the window. “What are you thinking about?” the girl questioned him but his eyes were telling that his thoughts were elsewhere.

“Charlie I need you to do something for me” Well this doesn’t start well. “ Can you convince her to go out with me?” “Who?” He turned to her.

“Jenna of course! It’s just I’ve been into her-“ yeah she had noticed “-for so long and this is like a perfect opportunity for me that she will finally say yes to me.” he sat on her bed and looked up at her. In this position, it seemed like he was giving her an ultimatum like there was no other answer than the one he wanted. And like dude, there may be a reason if she didn’t say yes to you yet. He keeps looking at her waiting for the girl's answer and to be honest, for some reason, she doesn’t really like the idea of him with Jenna together but on the other hand, she can’t just say no to him. Why is she always the one who needs to please someone's needs?

“Well, I’ll see what I can do”. Y/N nodded her head and Percy instantly got up.

“Thank you Char you are a lifesaver!” he smiled wide at her and went to his bed as she just stood there looking at the ground.

At night Y/N couldn´t sleep, she was thinking about what Percy said and she didn´t feel good about it. Because of something, it felt a little disrespectful towards Jenna, almost unfair. But she already agreed. She will just say something nice about him and see where it will go, she can´t influence Jenna´s decision after that and Percy can´t be mad at her if this doesn´t work.

She picked herself up and went to the bathroom, silently thanking God above that this wasn´t a public bathroom, and could shower without being scared that someone could see her. She doesn´t even know what she would say if someone finds out the twin´s secret. But she doesn´t want to think about that option.

A couple of days passed. The classes were good but the football practices were her favourite. Coach wants her to play in the upcoming game and she just can´t wait. Mason is her right hand and he is always supporting her, now when she doesn´t have her brother near, the boy is playing the role of her twin. Today she and Jenna have class again. They are talking a lot more. Y/N liked her, she was sweet and always smiling, she also found out that Jenna likes to listen to music and loves acting. She even recommended some of her favorite movies which Y/N didn´t see yet. They spend a lot of time together, besides being together in class, they also sometimes hang out in the cafeteria and walk together to classes, and sometimes she even sees Jenna watching her practice. Y/N doesn´t know how she found out about her being in the team but she isn´t even sure if the brown-eyed girl is sitting there every practice for her.

„What?“ Jenna was shocked „How come you have never seen that?“ they were talking about films, the movie Scream to be exact. They were sitting under the tree on some bench. Students were walking around chatting, birds were singing in the trees and the sun was shining through the holes of the leaves. Y/N was walking out of class when suddenly she saw the other girl. Jenna asked her if she wanted to grab coffee since they had some free time. So now they were sitting next to each other, talking about everything.

„I have heard about it but didn´t see that, don´t know why.“ Y/N shrugs her shoulders. Jenna only shook her head at the girl.

„That´s a mistake, it´s so cool, the actors, plot, cinematography, blood-“ she started to mumble about the movie when suddenly an amazing idea crossed her mind „we can watch it together sometime!“ she let out and looked at Y/N for an answer. She only kept her gaze on her if she heard it right. She wanted to say yes but there was something in her telling her that it would be unfair for Percy.

„Yeah sure, that would be awesome“ Y/N said smiling. Jenna shot her smile back.

„Okay, so this friday?“ she asked the other girl. Y/N looked at Jenna, she didn´t know this girl would be so fast, she thought they were just talking about the possibility, not that they were already making plans.

„Yes, I should be free.“

„Great, can you give me your phone?“ Y/N gave her phone to Jenna „Here, you better text me football player.“ she said smiling as she stood up from the bench and started to walk away. Y/N laughed softly.

„Of course.“ she whispered under her breath and kept staring at her back until she couldn´t see her anymore. She picked up her phone and looked at the new contact. Jenna xx.

It was already the end of the week Y/N was getting ready to hang out with Jenna, and she texted her about the details. They are going to watch the film in the other girl´s room since her roommate is going to a party. She walked out of the bathroom and saw Percy, she didn´t tell him about her going out. It´s not like she has to say it to him, right?

„Hey you planning to go somewhere?“ he asked.

„Uhm... yeah, some boys from the football team asked me about hanging out with them.“ she said. Y/N hated lying but what would he say if she told him she was hanging out with the girl he had a crush on? It´s not her fault that Jenna invited her, or is it?

„Oh okay, we are going to the party some students are throwing, wanted to ask you if you want to come but it´s good.“ he only smiled at her. She thanked him and he soon left the room. It was already time to go so she picked up some snacks she bought and left the dorm.

“So? Your rating?” Jenna turned to face the other girl. They just finished watching Scream and all Y/N can say, it got her. They were sitting on the small couch, snacks around them, she faced Jenna and only the light from the TV made her see her. The girl´s hair was loose on both sides of her face, she was not wearing any makeup and her bare face only made the girl’s heart skip a beat. It was refreshing seeing her like this and also Y/N felt proud because this meant that Jenna felt comfortable around her.

“It was pretty good, not bad not good.” Y/N acted unbothered.

“Oh yeah? That’s why you didn’t blink the whole movie?” she smirked at Y/N, she squinted her eyes at her “Be honest.”

“Okay! I enjoyed it so much and actually liked the plot, that’s what you wanted to hear?”

Jenna tilted her head “That’s what I thought. What can I say… I have a good taste.”

They kept silence between them, it wasn’t embarrassing or tense silence. It was comforting. They were looking at each other.

“Tell me about your family.” the brown-eyed girl said softly, holding gaze with the other girl.

“Well, I live with my parents and my twin sister” Jenna raised her eyebrows.

“You have a twin?” Y/N nodded at her question.

“What is she like?”

“Well…“ she didn’t know what to say, it felt weird talking about herself as if she was talking about someone else “She is cool, likes to keep things to herself most of the time, likes reading and writing poems…”

“She sounds interesting, you could introduce us to each other sometime.” she smirked at her.

“Yeah, I think she would like you”

“You think?” Jenna straightened her back “I’m amazing! Of course, she will!”

Y/N throws her head back with a laugh.

“How can you be so sure that you will meet her?”

“Oh believe me” Jenna smiled at Y/N “I know.”

Y/N felt the vibe of the room change. When she was with Jenna she almost forgot about everything and everybody, her brother, her parents, school, her and Percy´s deal, her impersonating her twin…

But only almost.

next chapter

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princessbrunette · 1 year ago

Note

brat tamer rafe when he's arguing with his girlfriend and she starts talking over him

🐾ᯤ

sitting in wards old office which now belongs to rafe, arguing with him over something so silly and he’s just not listening! you’re sat on the leather couch and he’s pacing back and forth— if you weren’t so mad at him you’d be fawning over how good he looks in his shirt and blazer and slacks — like a real grown man, which usually made you salivate. instead, you’re sulking, hands on your knees with a pout on your face. this argument has been going in circles for like 20 minutes now, because you were certain you did nothing wrong.

“theres rules… to this relationship baby you know that. okay? you’re — you’re not stupid so i don’t understand why the hell you thought it was a good idea to come down the stairs when im in the middle of a deal— making money for you to—”

you can’t help but cut him off, whiny and petulant to make your point. “but rafe how am i supposed to know when you—”

“hey, hey — i’m talking now!” he yells, his loud voice echoing as he points to himself. you instantly shut up, mouth closing as tears spring to your eyes. “what’s not clicking with you being in trouble and not fucking listening to me when im explaining? huh?” he lowers his voice only slightly as he looms over you threateningly. as soon as you start to sniffle, placing your face into your hands and letting out little sobs his resolve crumbles a little, letting out a sigh and beginning to pace again, running a hand over his face.

“okay, okay alright.” he squats infront of you. “alright.” he adds slower and you look up at him, mascara a mess beneath your eyes. “maybe… maybe i shouldn’t have yelled, okay? you just —” he sighs in frustration shaking his head. “you drive me crazy sometimes, you know? when you don’t listen it’s like — you don’t wanna understand… and i can’t have that. you want this to work, i need you to listen to me. can you do that? can you listen?” he speaks softer one of his hands taking yours.

you nod, and he mirrors it, staring at you as he thought. you were just about to meekly ask what he was thinking about before he stood up to his full height. “you need to learn your lesson, ‘kay?” it sounds sympathetic, but you knew it had to be the opposite.

within no time, he’s got you bent over his lap — 15 hard, loud spanks in. you’re crying and writhing around over his thighs, somewhere between ashamed and deeply horny. your skirt was bunched at your lower back and your panties pulled to your knees, so you knew he must be able to see or hear how soaked you were. your thoughts were answered when he gave in to your writhing and whimpers and started to spread your wetness around with his fingers before pushing in.

he sets a punishing pace, and as if the position wasn’t humiliating enough — he’s lecturing you the entire time. knuckles deep in your cunt, occasionally feeling his big rings graze your fat lips. he sighs, shaking his head.

“you know, i don’t think you appreciate all i do for you. why i do these things, sweetheart. it’s for your own safety okay? i make deals with all different sorts of people and — and id hate for you to be wrapped up in something you can’t handle. yeah? s’why i get mad. is that fair? am i the bad guy for wanting to protect you?”

“no daddy, you treat me so well.” you mewl, arching your back, practically drooling as he finger fucks you within an inch of your life. he sighs out his nose, thumbing at your spine.

“yeah. yeah i do”

🐾ᯤ

#anon #rafe cameron prompt

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luvfy0dor · 10 months ago

Note

Ahemm can I request s Fyodor x reader whos also russian but speaks better Japanese then him (i find it funny he's bad at learning Japanese) ♡

“Trust Me, Mine is Better ♡⁠˖” Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; Google translate Japanese, cursing, not proofread

Description; Fyodors partner is also Russian, but is better with speaking Japanese and learned faster, so his partner helps him out

A/n; I wanna have a study date w him so bad omg 3:

• He'd be a teeny bit passive about it to be honest, but all in all he'd be proud of you. It's not often that he comes across someone who's better than him at anything intellectual.

ೃ⁀➷

Being in Japan with your boyfriend was lovely when he wasn't out being a terrorist. He loved to sight see whenever he left your homeland of Russia, but directions weren't his forte, nor was the Japanese language. You were able to speak it rather fluently though. You didn't have much of an accent to begin with, but however much of an accent you did have immediately disappeared when you opened your mouth to speak Japanese. He couldn't help but feel a little jealousy bubble in his chest when you could fluently speak with a random stranger in the street to ask which way something was, but he hid it well. As a matter of fact, he'd praise you.

"すみません、地下鉄の駅はどこですか?" (where is the subway station?) You asked when you stopped a man in the street, looking for a way home with your boyfriends hand in your own. You could almost feel Fyodors subtle glare gently burning through your skin like corrosives while you listened to the guy pointing you in the right direction. “ありがとう!" (Thank you) You say, giving a small nod of appreciation and leading Fyodor in the direction you were given. "Wow, Moya Lyubov, it's like you get better at speaking Japanese every day. Even your writing improves just as rapidly." The words rolled off his tongue smoothly and you gratefully accepted his compliments, smiling and squeezing his hand. "Thank you, yours does too. It's nice that we're both learning Japanese, so we can help eachother out." You say, looking at the street ahead of you, heading down a flight of stairs to a subway station.

"You sound like you're past simply learning." He says lightheartedly, a small smile on his face. You look over to him and nod. "I mean, I can get around, but I still have so much to learn and that's okay- Fedya, oh my gosh! We could have cute study dates together!! A lot of people do stuff like that in highschool or college, but since we were never together during either of those, we could do, like, a mock-study date." You say, excited by your new, groundbreaking idea. He seems amused by your enthusiasm, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. “I wouldn't mind being taught how to speak and write better as long as it's by you. Other people are much more condescending and teasing." He says. You could only imagine he was referring to Nikolai after watching him show the clown a paper with large Japanese symbols written on the paper, to which Nikolai started giggling and asked him what the fuck it was supposed to be.

Needless to say that was the last time Fyodor turned to Nikolai for constructive criticism, he wrote him off as unhelpful in this manner. Instead he'd only get it from native speakers or people who are, in his eyes, fluent in the language. They could give him real advice. But since you were proposing a study date with him where he could get constructive advice from you and do some more learning of the language in his own way, there was no reason to pass that opportunity up. You both agreed on the next evening after he got home from a DOA meeting, and it was more than pleasant. You both laid in each other's presence, practicing your writing, doing Duolingo lessons here and there, and etc. You eventually got bored, craving your lovers attention instead of knowledge. You leaned over and brushed his hair away from his face before whispering into his ear. “キスしてもいいですか?" His eyebrows furrow and his head turns to face you.

"Can you what?" His words are slightly slurred together with his accent and sleepiness. His lips are pink and clearly chewed with focus and frustration and his eyelids are droopy. "Can I kiss you?" You repeat in English. His eyes widen and he grins, reaching out to cup your face, pulling you in. "You don't have to ask to kiss me, Moya Lyubov." He closes his eyes and lets his lips meet yours, moving them together and rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You entangle your fingers in his hair and part, taking a quick breath of air and resting your forehead against his. "I know, I just figured I'd give you a new phrase in Japanese." He laughs and pulls you into his thin body. "Who else would I need to say it to?" His hands rubbed up and down your back. "No one, but still- just let me be flirty while staying on topic, alright?" You say with a laugh, twirling his hair around your finger. Not to say neither of you learned anything during your study date, but just in case Fyodor didn't, he now knew how to ask to kiss you.

A/n; sorry this post is like an hour later than usual my bad chat ☹️

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yesimwriting · 5 months ago

Note

hey! how is Felix and lovie doing????

oh still painfully oblivious and in love

----

The chill is enough to pull you out of sleep.

You extend an arm blindly, too groggy to be more productive in your search for a source of warmth. Your fingertips brush against rumpled sheets, but the half-conscious part of you isn't satisfied with the discovery of a blanket.

Felix, you realize with a start, where is he? The question gives you enough of a sense of purpose to lift your head. There's no sunlight bleeding in through the window, which means that it's still late. You squint, pressing your elbow into the mattress as you try to sit up further.

There's a figure, an outline closer to the edge of the bed than to you. Felix. You reach out instinctually, your hand finding his back. Before you can make any real progress at stealing his warmth, he shifts, tensing beneath you.

You frown, gently dragging your nails down his spine. He doesn't ease. You move to sit up a little straighter, leaning over him in an attempt at reading his expression. The darkness makes it impossible to make out much, but his eyebrows do seem to be furrowed.

He sighs, the sound uneasy. You trail your fingers up and down his back again. "Lex," you whisper, voice a little too raspy to be effective. "Felix." He mumbles something into his sheets. Your hold on him tightens, your fingers pressing into his shoulder. "Lex."

Felix inhales, entire body going rigid. He wakes up all at once, head lifting itself and shoulders tensing. You press your palm against the fabric of his shirt, but you're not given a real chance at comforting him before he's turning.

His back finds the mattress. You remain still, forearm digging into the bed's cushioning as you study the rise and fall of his chest. After a moment of ragged breathing, he whispers, "Lovie?"

Forgetting the dark, you nod. "Yeah--yeah, it's me." As if to prove your point, you place a hand against his side. He seems to breathe a little easier at that. "Think you had a bad dream."

There's a quality to his stillness that jabs at you. It isn't him like him. You're too groggy to articulate your concern, so you move your hand, dragging your knuckles against his side.

He exhales at that, his arm bending towards his chest. His fingers find your wrist. "Yeah, it--it was a dream."

The response is almost irritatingly blank. He squeezes your hand carefully, his touch warm and sure. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Felix drags his thumb against the back of your palm. He's quiet enough to be contemplating something. "No," he finally says, "Not now."

If he seemed any less unsteady, you'd consider pushing. Instead, you just let yourself watch him for a second, eyes straining to make out his features in the dark. "Okay," you settle on, "That's okay." He hums once, but the sound feels distant. "Do you want to talk about anything else? Or turn on the light and stay up for a little?"

Felix traces invisible patterns against your hand as he thinks through his options. "Can you come here?"

You nod as you shift forward. Felix extends his arm, providing you the space needed to rest your head against his stomach. He places a hand against your back.

You try to will yourself to embrace the comfort of the new position, but there's a lingering tension that you can't fully dismiss. "Are you okay?"

He smooths circles against your spine. "Yeah," the response is a little softer than you'd like it to be, almost hesitant. "Think it was those last couple of mixed drinks you told me not to drink." It's true, you had warned him against the third bar special. "From now on, I'm listening to you always."

The exaggeration makes you grin. "Lesson learned."

Felix mumbles a response, his voice too heavy and drowsy for you to piece together his words. You're okay with the not knowing, but he clarifies anyway, "I'm happy you're here."

You shut your eyes, letting yourself focus on the overwhelming safety that is Felix. "Me too."

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @imbabycowboy

#bestfriend!felix #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #bestfriend!felix x reader #jacob elordi x reader #felix catton x you #felix catton fic #saltburn x you #saltburn imagine #ask

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mercillery · 1 month ago

Text

MARINES AS GUARDIAN ANGELS!

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: this was a really random idea that’s been sitting in drafts for too long. someone please write more for the marines 💔

AOKIJI/KUZAN

As your guardian angel, Aokiji takes a chill approach—literally and figuratively.

Picture him lounging in an oversized beanbag cloud, sipping iced coffee (because hot coffee is just too much work) while keeping one lazy eye on you. He’s the kind of guardian angel who firmly believes in your freedom to live your life, make your choices, and occasionally trip over them like a newborn giraffe learning to walk.

“Growth, y'know?” he’d say with a shrug, ice cubes clinking in his drink. He's not hovering over you with a checklist of rules—he’s more like a life coach who doesn’t believe in micromanaging.

Aokiji's presence is undeniably calming, like a cool breeze on a sweltering day or the sound of rain when you're wrapped in a blanket. You won’t always see him stepping in, but that’s part of his method.

Subtle nudges? Oh, he’s got those in spades. You might feel an inexplicable urge to turn left instead of right, or decide to call it quits on a bad idea at the last second. That’s Aokiji for you. He’s like the universe’s “Are you sure about that?” pop-up notification—but without the nagging.

Now, don’t get it twisted: Aokiji isn’t lazy, he’s strategically hands-off. Why? Because he wants you to learn how to fend for yourself. “It’s your life, not mine,” he’d remind you, probably lying on a cloud hammock and tossing snowballs into the abyss for fun.

He genuinely believes in you, even when you don’t believe in yourself. He figures that if he’s always there holding your hand, you’ll never learn to walk on your own. “And besides,” he might add with a yawn, “you’d just get annoyed with me after a while.”

But let’s talk about when you mess up. You know those moments when you think, This is genius, but it turns out to be a disaster? Aokiji lets you go through with it—not because he enjoys watching you flail okay, maybe a little, but because he knows mistakes are part of the process. He might even be sitting there like, “Hmm, this’ll be a good lesson. Painful, sure, but memorable.”

Of course, he’s got limits. If your grand oopsie is about to land you in the ICU or worse, you’ll suddenly find yourself narrowly avoiding disaster, courtesy of a well-timed intervention. He’s not heartless, after all. “Eh, can’t let you die; that’d make me look bad,” he’d say with his trademark deadpan delivery.

The real humor here is in how he communicates with you. Instead of some grand angelic vision, you might get a sudden brain freeze while debating a bad idea. Or maybe a random bird drops an icicle near your feet, and you’re like, “What the heck?!”

Meanwhile, Aokiji’s up there smirking, muttering, “Message received, I hope.” He’s not about to hold neon signs that scream DON’T DO IT, but he’ll definitely leave breadcrumbs for you to figure things out.

Aokiji, as your guardian angel, is the embodiment of patience—like, Buddha-level patience, but with way more chill and significantly less sitting under trees. He doesn’t push, prod, or poke.

Instead, he’s the guy who casually tosses a single, offhand comment into the mix that leaves you spiraling into an existential crisis. You’ll find yourself staring into the distance, thinking, Wait… was that… wisdom? And it always is.

The kicker? He does it so rarely that every time he decides to share something meaningful, it’s like being hit by a truck made of profound truths. You walk away stunned, muttering, “Wow, okay, Mr. Cool Nonchalant Guardian Angel. Didn’t know I signed up for a TED Talk today.”

But those nuggets of wisdom? Oh, they stick. Some lodge themselves in your brain permanently, popping up at random moments years later, leaving you to wonder how this laid-back angel became a cornerstone of your moral philosophy. You’re not even mad about it. If anything, you’re a little awestruck. He’s like the personification of “quiet cool,” and every time he speaks, it feels like hearing the world’s calmest mic drop.

Aokiji’s ability to understand human emotions is almost spooky. He doesn’t just get you—he gets you.

You could be a sobbing mess of self-doubt and regret, and there he is, just vibing, no judgment in sight. “Yeah, you screwed up,” he’d say, leaning back like it’s no big deal. “But who hasn’t? That’s kind of the whole point of being human.” And somehow, those simple words are exactly what you needed to hear. If it were physically possible, he’d pat you on the back, but instead, you get a breeze, a faint chill, and a casual remark like, “Relax, kid. You’re doing fine. Maybe take a chill pill while you’re at it.”

He’s the angel you instinctively turn to during your worst emotional slumps, partly because he’s so good at making you feel better, and partly because you know he’ll listen without so much as raising an eyebrow.

He doesn’t lecture or overwhelm you with advice; instead, he offers thoughtful insights that make you stop, think, and—more often than not—reassess everything you thought you knew. His words aren’t just comforting; they’re life-altering. You might find yourself walking away with a fresh perspective on your struggles, life in general, and the universe itself.

But here’s the kicker: Just when you’re about to thank him for being the coolest, most insightful guardian angel in existence, he’s gone.

Poof.

Out of sight.

You’ll look around, confused, only to realize he’s off napping somewhere, snoring like a chainsaw. He’s like that friend who gives you the world’s best advice and then immediately acts like it was no big deal. Honestly, you’re starting to think he does it on purpose—drops some wisdom, lets you stew on it, and then ghosts like he’s too cool for gratitude.

Still, you can’t help but admire the guy. Aokiji is the guardian angel you didn’t know you needed, with a knack for making you feel seen, understood, and, weirdly enough, okay with all the messy bits of life. Sure, he’s napping more often than not, but when he’s there? Oh, he delivers.

Aokiji is the kind of guardian angel who sees life not as a perfectly arranged puzzle but as a beautiful, chaotic mess—and he wants you to see it that way too. He encourages you to embrace the imperfections, those little unexpected quirks that make life worth living.

Spill coffee on your shirt during a meeting? He’d probably shrug and mutter, “Eh, you’ve got character now.” Trip over your own feet in public? “Style it out,” he’d say in your mind. If you’re too hard on yourself, he’s right there, reminding you to ease up. “Come on, kid, the world’s already tough enough. You don’t need to pile on yourself too.” His voice in your head is like a soothing balm for your overworked inner critic.

When it comes to guiding you, Aokiji isn’t about hand-holding or spoon-feeding. He’s more like the cool uncle who asks the kind of questions that leave you wondering, Wait, was that advice, or was he just messing with me?

He nudges, hints, and lets you figure it out. Trusting your instincts is something he wants you to master, and he’s there to give you the confidence to do it. But don’t expect a detailed PowerPoint presentation on what to do—this is Aokiji, not a corporate retreat.

Now, dangerous situations? That’s where Aokiji gets serious. He doesn’t mess around when someone—or something—threatens his human. If harm is coming your way, he steps in, ice-cold resolve and all, to make sure you’re safe.

He’s got a rule: if you mess up and learn the hard way, fine. That’s growth. But harm coming from another person? Absolutely not. He’s not about to let you get hurt on his watch. Whether it’s de-escalating a heated argument, keeping you out of physical danger, or just freezing the bad vibes in their tracks, Aokiji ensures you walk away unharmed, emotionally and physically intact. You don’t even realize how much he does for you half the time because, well, he’s subtle like that.

But here’s the best part—Aokiji’s big brother energy. Later that night, when the adrenaline has worn off, and you’re snuggled under your blanket, ready to doze off, he might quietly check in.

Maybe he descends from wherever angels chill out and, with his usual laid-back demeanor, murmurs, “You okay, kid?” And there it is again—that kid nickname. It’s not condescending, not in the least. It’s warm, protective, and a little teasing, like he’s the big brother you didn’t know you needed.

Sometimes it’s easy to forget he’s technically an angel and not just your overchill sibling figure. He calls you “kid” so often, you half expect him to ruffle your hair one day.

Aokiji isn’t flashy or overbearing; he’s just there, in the best way possible—steady, reliable, and cool as ice. You feel safe knowing that, whether it’s finding beauty in life’s chaos or keeping you safe from harm, he’s always got your back.

KIZARU/BORSALINO

Kizaru’s style as your guardian angel is as perplexing as it is entertaining. He’s a walking enigma wrapped in golden light, delivering cryptic remarks that leave you scratching your head more often than not.

His approach? A strange mix of lighthearted teasing, unpredictable antics, and that signature laid-back demeanor that somehow manages to both calm and confuse you at the same time.

Imagine this: you’re stressing over a big decision, and suddenly, out of nowhere, Kizaru pops in with his usual drawl, “Oooh, what’s the rush? Doesn’t seem that urgent to me.” You turn to him, shooting him the most baffled “what?” look in existence, only to find him lazily smirking like he just walked off a beach. His expression clearly says, What? What?—and now you’re even more confused.

Naturally, you’re like, “What did you mean by tha—” but before you can finish, he casually snaps his fingers, and suddenly your coffee spills... somehow forming a perfect replica of a smiley face on the table.

You’re left staring at the mess, dumbfounded, as Kizaru stretches, mutters, “Guess that’s your sign,” and vanishes into thin air, leaving you no closer to answers but definitely distracted enough to forget what you were worrying about.

When it comes to intervention, Kizaru operates on a whole other wavelength. He’s not going to swoop down dramatically to save you from danger—that’s too ordinary for him. No, his methods are indirect and borderline bizarre.

Maybe he makes your phone randomly restart, delaying you just enough to avoid crossing paths with a reckless driver. Or perhaps your shoe suddenly comes untied, forcing you to stop and miss stepping into a bad situation.

It all seems coincidental, but then, just as you’re shaking your head at your “bad luck,” you catch the faintest sound, like a whisper carried on the breeze: “Oooh, close one.” It’s so distant, so ridiculously faint, that you almost convince yourself you imagined it. Almost.

Kizaru’s interventions always leave you wondering. Is he deliberately cryptic for fun, or is there a method to his madness? Either way, his unpredictable nature means you never know exactly what to expect.

One day, he might save you with the equivalent of a cosmic prank; the next, he’ll throw you a curveball disguised as the world’s most nonsensical advice. But that’s just Kizaru for you—never straightforward, always keeping you on your toes, and somehow managing to make you laugh in the middle of chaos.

Despite his laid-back attitude, Kizaru has an almost intimidating depth of knowledge and experience. He’s been around the cosmic block a few times, but you’d never know it by the way he casually tosses advice your way—if you can even call it advice. His pearls of wisdom tend to come wrapped in riddles and cryptic one-liners that make you feel like you’re playing some celestial guessing game.

You’ll stand there, trying not to pull your hair out, and blurt, “Can you just give me a normal answer for once?!” But no, not Kizaru. Instead, he’ll give you that trademark smirk, shrug in slow motion, and murmur something like, “Mmm… why do today what can wait until tomorrow?”

Then he vanishes, leaving you with nothing but your rising blood pressure and the gnawing suspicion that his nonsense will somehow make sense later. Spoiler alert: it does. And when it finally clicks, you’re equal parts impressed and annoyed because, of course, he knew what he was talking about all along.

But let’s not mistake his nonchalance for indifference. Beneath that carefree exterior, Borsalino is fiercely loyal to you. He might act like he’s just here for the vibes, but the truth is, he’s always keeping a close eye on you. His interventions are so seamless, so bizarrely timed, that they feel almost miraculous.

Picture this: you’re seconds away from stepping into a complete disaster, and suddenly, out of nowhere, you hear his voice drawl, “Ooooh… nice try, but no.” Before you can even process what’s happening, the threat is neutralized in the most inexplicable way.

One time, you’re about to walk into a room that’s about to collapse, and bam—the door jams before you can enter. You stand there, frustrated, yanking at the handle like it’s some kind of cosmic joke.

Later, when you realize what you narrowly avoided, you hear the faint echo of his chuckle. “Bet you’re glad you didn’t get in,” he’d say, probably lounging on a cloud, sunglasses slightly askew.

And his methods? Completely unconventional, borderline ridiculous, and yet undeniably effective. He doesn’t fight danger head-on. Instead, he works smarter, not harder, defusing situations in ways that leave you standing there, blinking, like, *Wait, what just happened?* Did the danger really disappear, or did Kizaru just bend the laws of reality around you for fun? Probably both.

Kizaru is the wildcard of the guardian angel trio, and oh boy, does he embrace the role with gusto. Unpredictable, occasionally maddening, and always one step ahead, he keeps you on your toes like it’s his celestial hobby.

His favorite pastime? Teasing you into oblivion. Whether it’s a cheeky remark about your life choices or a cryptic observation that leaves you spiraling in self-reflection, he somehow manages to fluster and enlighten you in the same breath. You’ll glare at him, cheeks puffed in frustration, and he’ll just raise an eyebrow, his smirk practically saying, “Did I say something wrong? Noooo… I don’t think so."

When life has you wound tighter than a violin string, Kizaru steps in with his patented chaotic chill energy to shake things up. He’s the angel equivalent of a “live a little” poster, casually reminding you to loosen up and stop sweating the small stuff.

Overthinking something? He might “accidentally” cause your phone to die mid-rant, leaving you forced to sit with your thoughts and, begrudgingly, chill out. Spilling your coffee? Misplacing your keys? Yeah, that’s probably him too. But hey, it’s harmless enough—just enough chaos to nudge you into realizing that life doesn’t always have to be taken so seriously.

His humor is his greatest weapon against your stress. Say you’re in the middle of a meltdown over tomorrow’s presentation; he’ll saunter in, leisurely as ever, and go, “Oooh… stressing already? You didn’t even mess up yet! Guess you like to start early, huh?”

Cue your annoyed groan as he lounges somewhere nearby, maybe filing his nails or inspecting his sunglasses. His nonchalant attitude can be infuriating, but deep down, you know he’s got a point.

And Kizaru isn’t just messing around—he’s strategic about his nonsense. He knows when to lighten the mood and when to drop a line that actually sticks with you. Sure, he can be playful, but his ultimate goal is to remind you that life is meant to be lived, not just stressed over.

Tomorrows’ worries? That’s for tomorrow. Today’s? Eh, deal with them and move on. He’s not about to let his adorable, flustered little human keel over from worry. "Can’t have you overthinking yourself to an early grave," he’d joke, smirking as you roll your eyes.

AKAINU/SAKAZUKI

Oh boy, where do we even begin with Akainu?

Strap in, because this guy takes the concept of “guardian angel” to a whole new level. You thought guardian angels were supposed to be all soft and comforting? Not Akainu. Nope. He’s not here to coddle you; he’s here to run your life like a military operation. Imagine having a drill sergeant and a guardian angel rolled into one, and you’ll start to get the picture.

Akainu takes his role very seriously. Like, obsessively so. His whole vibe screams, I will protect you at all costs, even if it’s from yourself, and you will thank me later.

And yeah, you do feel safe with him around, but let’s be real—it’s hard to relax when you’ve got someone barking orders about how to “make better life choices” while glaring at your empty water bottle like hydration is a personal affront. "Drink more water. NOW. How are you supposed to survive without proper hydration?"

He’s firm, he’s direct, and he does not mess around. If you so much as think about doing something remotely risky, Akainu is there, arms crossed, his eyebrows furrowed in the most intimidating dad-face imaginable. “What are you doing? Did you think that through? No? Then don’t do it.” And if you try to argue? Forget it. “I’m your guardian angel, not your yes-man. Sit down.”

Anything he sees as a threat—bad friends, bad habits, bad decisions—gets obliterated faster than you can say, “But Akainu, wait—” Nope, no waiting. He’s already neutralized the problem, metaphorically or maybe literally incinerated it, and is giving you the look. You know the one. The look that says, “This wouldn’t have happened if you listened to me the first time."

And let’s talk about how thorough he is when it comes to your safety. During moments of crisis, Akainu’s got the whole situation handled before you even realize there’s a crisis.

Someone’s being aggressive toward you? They’re suddenly very apologetic. Demonic entity lurking around? They take one look at Akainu and nopenopeNOPE their way out of existence. Seriously, demons probably swap horror stories about him around their little demon campfires. “Yeah, I tried to mess with one of his humans once. Never again. The guy’s a walking no-fly zone."

His presence is like a massive, unyielding shield—a big, lava-hot wall of “try it, I dare you” energy. It’s comforting in a Wow, I’m invincible with this guy around kind of way, but also mildly terrifying because Akainu does not do half-measures. He’s all in, all the time.

Despite all his drill-sergeant-meets-volcano-dad intensity, Akainu has a surprising amount of faith in you. Shocking, right? He genuinely believes in teaching you resilience and strength. Sure, he’s the guy who will body-check a demon into another dimension if they even look at you funny, but he also knows that shielding you from every challenge isn’t going to help you grow.

So he lets you struggle a little—not in a cruel way, but just enough for you to toughen up and figure things out. But don’t worry, he’s got an internal alarm that goes off the second things get too real. Stakes too high? He’s there faster than you can say, “Wait, is this lava?”

Here’s the thing about Akainu: he values discipline like it’s a currency, and he really wants you to learn how to take care of yourself. But—big “but” here—he also respects your autonomy.

If you don’t want to listen to him? Fine. That’s on you. Just don’t expect him to take it lightly when your bad decision inevitably explodes in your face. “Oh, so this is what happens when you ignore my advice? Huh. Interesting. Didn’t see that coming. Except I did. I told you it would happen. Repeatedly.”

Even if you do ignore him, curse at him, or (heaven forbid) give him attitude, Akainu isn’t going anywhere. Sure, he might look like he’s about to erupt into a full-on volcanic tantrum, his metaphorical head steaming like an active geyser, but here’s the kicker: he’ll still protect you. Because you’re his human, and you’re stuck with him whether you like it or not.

And, yeah, he’ll scold you afterward. Oh boy, will he scold you. His lectures are legendary—part life lesson, part motivational speech, part “how do you not already know this?!” But underneath the frustration and the stern tone, you can tell it all comes from a place of genuine care.

His blunt, sometimes harsh advice might feel like a slap in the face (or a splash of molten lava), but it’s always honest, always unfiltered, and always rooted in his desire to see you thrive.

Akainu keeps a close, very close watch over your life. You think you’re sneaky? Think again. He’s analyzing every decision you make like a CIA agent reviewing classified files. If there’s even a hint of danger, he’s already two steps ahead, ready to intervene. He doesn’t sugarcoat anything, ever.

You’re not going to get soft reassurances or “everything will magically work out” vibes from him. Instead, you get the no-nonsense truth, served with a side of tough love and a lot of crossed arms.

If you’re reckless, self-destructive, or just plain dumb about your decisions, Akainu is going to let you hear about it. You’ll practically feel his fiery glare boring into your soul as he gruffly commands, “Stop that.” Not a suggestion, not a request—just a straight-up order. And, let’s be honest, you’ll probably stop, if only because his tone makes it sound like not stopping would somehow make the Earth implode.

While Aokiji is all about sprinkling breadcrumbs and letting you follow the trail like some kind of life lesson scavenger hunt, Akainu is not about that life. Oh no. Akainu’s approach is more… let’s call it “visually and audibly overwhelming.”

Picture this: he’s standing in front of you holding a giant, blinding neon sign that screams, “DON’T DO IT!” Not enough? Don’t worry—he’s also got a roaring semi-truck idling nearby, a megaphone cranked up to the max, a PA system blasting the same warning on repeat, and, for good measure, an air raid siren wailing in the background. Oh, and fireworks. Big, loud ones spelling out, “I SAID NO.”

And yet, somehow, beneath all the volcanic intensity, Akainu has… a soft spot for you. Yes, Akainu, the walking embodiment of no-nonsense justice, has a tender side. Shocking, I know. Don’t expect him to go all mushy on you—he’s not about to hand out hugs or write heartfelt letters. His care comes through in a way that’s 100% Akainu: practical, efficient, and borderline bossy.

For instance, if you’re not eating properly, he’ll make sure you do—even if it means somehow orchestrating events so your favorite meal shows up at the perfect time. “Coincidence”? Please. That’s Akainu, silently shaking his head at your questionable life choices and ensuring you don’t faint from malnutrition.

Dangerous situation? Forget about it. You’re already being quietly guided away before you even realize the threat existed. Your environment feels oddly stable and secure? Yep, that’s him too, working behind the scenes like the overprotective angel he is.

It’s wild to think about, but Akainu really does care in his own gruff, no-frills way. He might not shower you with affection or words of encouragement, but his actions? Oh, they speak volumes. Because at the end of the day, Akainu’s brand of love is this: making sure his human is alive, well, and not being an idiot.

When it comes to emotional support, Akainu is… well, let’s just say he’s a bit out of his element. It’s not that he doesn’t care—he does, deeply—but the man wouldn’t know how to ask “Are you okay?” if you handed him a script and a teleprompter. Emotional vulnerability? Yeah, that’s uncharted territory for him.

If you’re having a rough time, he’ll ensure you’re safe and secure, no questions asked. Did someone hurt you? He’s already dealt with it—don’t ask how. Are you overwhelmed? Suddenly, your to-do list is mysteriously cleared, and your surroundings feel unnervingly calm. Did you notice your favorite comfort item conveniently reappear out of nowhere? Yeah, that’s him. He’s got your back, but don’t expect him to say it out loud. Words are not his weapon of choice—lava fists are, but we digress.

And, oh, he will check up on you later. Not in a “Hey, how are you holding up?” kind of way. No, his style is more... covert ops. Picture this: you’re fast asleep, blissfully unaware, and Akainu is leaning over you like a silent hawk, his brows furrowed as he inspects your face. Is your expression too tense? Are you frowning? Smiling? Breathing weird? He’s taking mental notes like it’s a military debriefing.

He might even mutter to himself while pacing. “They seem fine… I think. Maybe. But what if they’re not? Should I—no, that’s stupid. They’ll be fine. Probably.” Eventually, he narrows his eyes, nods in silent approval, and disappears back to wherever guardian angels hang out, fully convinced that his midnight reconnaissance mission was a success.

It’s almost sweet—if it weren’t just a tiny bit unsettling. But hey, that’s Akainu for you. He may not be a master of emotional nuance, but he’s got his own way of showing he cares. Whether it’s through practical actions, silent observations, or his “secret” check-ins, you know he’s always watching over you… in his Akainu way. And honestly? That’s more comforting than he’ll ever admit.

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