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cheeseceli · 8 months ago

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Their s/o is a songwriter

Pairing: idol Ot8!skz × songwriter Gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, headcanon, idol!au

Request: so what if skz finding out their partner is a song writer / composer? bonus points if the skz members also found out that they wrote their favourite song :>

Warnings: reader is implied to write for Kpop most of the time, not proofread.

A/n: as a songwriter, I appreciate this request a whole lot lmao. Thank you for requesting, I hope you like it!

Bang Chan

Honestly, I think this is something he would find out before dating you

Man knows everyone in the whole entertainment industry

Ofc he knows who you are

If anything, the way you both got to know each other more was through working together to make a stray kids song

Overall, I think he would love to have a partner in the industry

Even if you never get to be on stage

Simply because you understand him more than other people do

You know how music is essential and demanding at the same time

Your job probably makes him feel more connected to you

He likes to joke that you're the newest member of 3Racha

Always sends you songs he made your you to listen

And wants you to do the same

You can send him an audio at 1AM and bro will listen to it right away, ready to give you his opinion and advice (and praise)

Lee Know

Poor stray kids and stay

They will be listening to the songs you worked on nonstop

He just happens to be your biggest supporter 🤷🏻‍♀️

Has a whole 10 hours playlist with all of your work

Knows every lyric even if they aren't Korean

And he also enjoys dancing to it very much

Even if the song doesn't have a choreo, he likes to make up his own by listening to what you did

Probably invented a few trends with your songs because of it lmao

He also listens to it a lot when he's on tour

Even if it's not your voice that he's listening to, it's still you somewhat

He just wants to feel close to you

Asks you to sing or play the songs you produced

Might or might not have a small compilation of audios of you singing when he's way too homesick

(And if you wrote his favourite song, he would definitely have an audio of you singing it)

Changbin

Sees you as a very big inspiration

The amount of times he listened to one of your songs so he could get out of creative block is crazy

If anything, he probably already saw you as a role model before even getting to personally know you

Imagine the seo changbin fan boying you

If you write for other K-pop groups/soloists, he's probably trying to make references of what you wrote in his own rap

Fans always think he's talking about a certain idol or something but he really is just trying to include you in his work😭

And he would beg to have at least one stray kids song cowrote by you

Like literally begging

He needs to have one small Collab with you at least once

And will get a little pouty every time you can't work with skz because you're with another group at the moment

Hyunjin

Loves to have songwriting dates with you

Usually releases the songs you both write (with your permission ofc) as a skz-recorder

Stays are starting to wonder who is that composer/songwriter who is behind every single song Hyunjin is in lmao

I remember he said that one of his goals for 2024 was to produce more

So he will 100% seek your advice and even ask for some particular lessons at times

And he is always a little bit shy when he's about to show you what he's been working on

Because he feels like you are THE songwriter

And you're also his partner so like

Your opinion is a very big deal

And he's also so excited when you let him listen to a preview of your newest work

Is always awestruck

(Any song of yours would be his favourite lmao, and the best part of it is that he means it)

Han

He would LOVE to have a partner in the industry

Or just connected to art somehow, even if it's just a hobbie

I mean, look at his lyrics

Bro inhales and exhales art

The fact that you understand this side of him and even share this interest is so what he needed

He's also very very helpful when you need to write songs

I see late night dates in the studio

Even when any of you is far away for whatever reason

It can be 2am in Korea, he will be on his phone more than willing to listen to you brainstorm

Brainstorming with Han would be very fun overall lmao

It's either going to be the most sentimental thing to ever exist or it's going to be complete nonsense lmao

Oh and he would also make a lot of references to things you wrote

And would be so so so so happy if you ever made a reference to a work of his

Felix

I remember he said once that if he wasn't an idol, he would like to be a professional songwriter

So the fact that YOU are a songwriter/producer

He kinda loves you a little bit too much

One thing he loves is to understand your thought process

If you ever let him see your notes,he will try his best to understand every little thing

Even if it's only words with no correlation all over the page

He loves to know how your mind works

And he wants to know where the inspiration comes from!

(If it's from him he will never shut up about it)

Loves to know the stories behind each one of your works

He feels like he gets to know you a little more every time he listens to something that is yours

Is always covering one of your songs on lives

Seungmin

Literally everything you could've asked for, both in the dating aspects and in professional aspects

He makes sure you never overwork but will never restrain you from your work

Like, he knows that sometimes the inspiration comes at 2AM. He won't shut off your notebook, he'll be up with you and guarantee you don't stress

And he's your most honest critic

If you need help with rhymes, structure, chords or whatever, he is there

(After dating him you rarely browse anything at Google anymore, seungmin always understands the specific vibes you want)

And if you are a songwriter/ composer who doesn't know how to sing (that's me criticising myself) he always volunteers to make the demo for your songs

As I said, everything you could've ever asked for in a partner and coworker

I.N

Now this one

The moment he discovered he was begging to see some of your work

It's crazy how many of your songs were included in the playlist he has of songs that remind him of you😭

Talk about soulmates

I also believe that he would love to help you with songs

Give him one chance and this man is already with a notebook open trying to come up with the best verse ever

But he really likes to hear you brainstorm as well

Just you in your comfort zone really makes him admire you

And he loves how he can feel closer to you

Just reading the lyrics you wrote ou listening to the beat you produced makes him feel like he is meeting you for the first time again

Always having a new impression of you

Will also sing any demos you want him to!

Masterlist | you'll probably like: if skz wrote a song for you

Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Taglist: @yuyubeans

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improbable-outset · 9 months ago

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📄 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐂𝐨𝐝𝐞:

𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐇𝐂…

Hey it’s 1am here in the UK and I don’t have a valentine themed fic. So have this set of HC of my AU series that I’ve been working on instead. There is a mix of wholesome and spicy HC. I’m too lazy to put it in an undercut so minors DNI 🔞

𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will rant about his day in the lab to you. You love hearing him vent to you if he had a terrible day or ramble about an exciting discovery he had made.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will come home to you from a hard works day in the lab. He likes to rest his head between your thighs while his wife massages his scalp. He melts completely under your tender touch. Your fingers are very soft and soothing.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will receive small love notes or doodles that are packed with his lunch from his wife. Sometimes even spicy messages if you’re feeling risky. They tend to end with him coming back home and fucking you on the nearest surface. Most likely the couch or kitchen counter top.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will receive a personalised lab coat with his name on it from you, either as a birthday gift or an anniversary present. He now wears it in the lab everyday since.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will involve you when he’s designing gadgets and weapons to be used by the Spider Society. He values your input when brainstorming the prototypes.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will have a personal gym right next to his lab where he would work out and train to maintain his strength and combat skills. This includes a high-tech simulation drill that replicate various combat scenarios to aid and enhance his quick thinking and problem solving abilities.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will have his wife watch him work out from the sidelines. You would admire the determination etched on his face. Maybe even steal a quick kiss in between sets. Sometimes you would sit on the rooftops while Miguel would do his usual web slinging endurance, navigating the city skyline from building to building as part of his training.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will fuck you good when he knows he won’t be home for a few days because of a mission in another dimension. He’ll make sure he reaches every crevice deep inside you. You’ll feel a dull ache from the way he stretched out your walls— a reminder of that passionate night and of your husband’s temporary absence. He doesn’t like using toys, he’d rather use his hands and dick do all the work.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that loves to kiss you all over and talk about the function of each part of your body while praising you and telling you how perfect your are. He loves teasing your erogenous areas to increase your serotonin levels and see how much you would fall apart under his touch.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will receive a blow job from you as he tries to explain the make reproductive system OR while he talks about his day at work to you. He’s lucky to have you help him with his pent up stress.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that probably keeps a track of your period. For research, of course. After you got off your birth control pills, it’s his responsibility to track when your fertility window takes place so he can breed you at the right time.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that is over the moon when you both find out that you are finally pregnant. Of course he would admire the changes of your body while you’re growing his child. He will eagerly share insight about the embryonic development and the hormonal changes, deepening the intimate connection you both already share.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will admire the changes of your body and will develop a serious lactation kink. He’ll feed from your breast from time to time…for science obviously. He’s just increasing your oxytocin levels so you can produce more milk for your baby daughter. Duh.

Scientist Husband!Miguel that will help his daughter with her schoolwork. I know he will probably put extra effort when it comes to her school science project and will probably be more committed to it than her. He just wants what’s best for her.

Mood board

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @thealleydog @ultravioletrayz @club-danger-zone @lazyjellyfish300 @miguelbaby @miguels-aranita (lmk if you want to be tagged for this au idea)

- Ayrus <3

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running-with-kn1ves · 3 months ago

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A/N: Here's a little comfort thang for all my revenge bedtime procrastination buds going through their tumblr rn. I am so exhausted ya'll.

CW: Yandere themes, potential murder, drabble.

You're awake. It's past midnight, maybe 1AM. Maybe even close to 2. Your friends are gone, and not just for the night; it was, of your desperate hope, the last time you'd see them. The warm body behind you made sure of that. It pressed deeper against you, the ridges of a familiar stomach and chest leaning deep against your back, fingers smooth like water gliding up your hip, dipping to your waist, pulling your hair back from your neck. The night proved all you needed to know-- that this would be your last reunion.

No words needed to be exchanged, no spits of insults or creepy attempts to calm you with affection and smothering, tongued kisses. You saw it on your... "partner's" face. The jealousy, the rage-- the passive-aggressive jabs earlier in the night that just turned straight into aggressiveness. The snurks and vicious smiles that shot from across the room anytime you smiled, laughed, or acknowledged an inkling of a word someone other than your soulmate had produced. You were being hunted, being tested, with your friends only mildly put off-- not aware of the dangerous game they were playing whenever they tried to catch your attention, to act like a friend. Tonight was what you needed to see to know that your loved ones weren't safe as long as the body behind you was still warm.

If you didn't have the power of persuasion, and months of practice in calming down a creature that could turn at the drop of a hat, your friends might've been dead before they left your home. But your sacrifice, your lying awake on this night, misery swimming in your head as your body instinctively relaxed to the gentle touch, had proved that you kept them safe. That your life would always hang in limbo, the rest of it likely to be a very lonely existence as long as you remained fitted against a beast that liked to play with its food-- its lover.

"mm'n... I love it when it's just the two of us. So quiet, just your heart beating against my ear."

How could you sleep, praying you'd never see another acquaintance or old schoolmate in the grocery store while your lover was in earshot? You held more than just your own life in your hands, and it was terrifying. The trickles of fingernails gliding down your back with patterned ease usually lulled you to sleep, the tickle so soft it left you feeling airless. But you had laid here for two hours already, sending feverish prayers and sweating against the sheets as your paranoia got the best of you. The beast was happy now, but what would be next to set it off, to make it lash out at you, to draw you into a corner and decide you weren't behaving well enough to keep around anymore? You loved projects, to take home abandoned things and give them the safety they've never found before. it's just too bad it doesn't work that way with people.

A hand reached around to turn off the lamp beside you, deciding it was tired of teasing its victim. You enjoyed the momentarily release. Not long however, you received a suffocating bear hug from behind that tugged and pulled you snug against the heat radiating upon your neck. Soft, hot breaths, in line with your own helped fill the soundless night. You focused on those breaths, of in and out. Each of your own was tight and a little too late on the release, trying desperately to doze into unconsciousness.

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sissylittlefeather · 1 month ago

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Kinktober Day 18: Dirty Talk

Burnin' Love

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, dirty talk, mentions of sex

Word Count: ~1.2k

Kinktober Masterlist

You walk into the studio sound booth at exactly 12:26am. Elvis has been there working on this song since about 4 in the afternoon and he's still not pleased with it. You haven't been a producer for long, and they usually only call you in when they're desperate to go home. That's how you end up here, in the studio, with Elvis Presley at nearly 1am. His band is exhausted. Their parts are perfect. It's his vocals that he isn't happy with yet. The song is complicated and he won't rest until it's just right.

“Alright, goddamnit, let's go again.” He says into the mic, ready to run it through again. His voice has an edge to it like he's irritated to still be working on the same song. You were nervous enough to be called in, much less to be called in to work with him, but you also know that his musicians are exhausted and you might be reaching a point of diminishing returns. You take a deep breath and try to ignore how good he looks, dark hair a little messy, lips shining with where he keeps running his tongue over them. Clearing your throat, you speak softly into the mic.

“Uh, Mr. Presley, maybe we should let the musicians go and you just try your tracks a few more times.” He looks up at the booth suddenly. Who the hell was that?!

“Honey, who are you?”

“I'm the producer, sir. They called me in to cover the night-”

“My name is Elvis. You don't need to call me sir.” He smiles up at the booth with his eyes sparkling behind his sunglasses. Your voice catches his attention and then when he sees you in the booth with your headphones on, he's ready to keep recording all night long. His irritation disappears with the curvature of your lips and the way your skirt hugs your thighs.

“Oh, okay, Elvis. Maybe we should let them go?” He smirks a little and then shrugs.

“Fine with me, honey. Y'all heard her. Clear out.” The musicians sigh gratefully and begin to pack up. “What's your name, doll?”

“Y/n. I think we only need a couple more takes.” You try to ignore his burning gaze and fiddle with something in the booth.

“Oh, I don't know, honey. These lyrics are really throwing me for a loop. Might need your help.” You lift your head quickly and meet his eyes. Even behind his glasses, they're piercing and you can see as he looks up and down your body. He breathes out a laugh as he notices a blush rising in your cheeks.

“Of course, sir- I mean Elvis. Whatever you need.” You stumble over the consonants and try to keep it together, but you can already feel yourself getting wet. He knows the effect he's having and thoroughly enjoys watching you drop into a chair as your knees go weak.

“Whatever I need?” He gives you a devilish smile, adjusting the headphones on his ears and you whimper, glad he can only hear you when you have the mic turned on in the recording booth.

Once everyone has gone and it's just you and him, you get the track ready to play for him to sing with, actively ignoring your arousal as it dampens your panties.

“Okay, Mr. Presley-”

“Elvis.” He smiles and you almost faint.

“Elvis, I'm going to play the track and you just do your vocal part.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Your hand shakes, but you press play and let the track run. He starts to sing and then stops, his fingertips on the headphones and a slight frown on his face while you pause the track.

“What's the next line, doll?”

“Girl, girl, girl, girl, you gonna set me on fire.” He smirks.

“Set what on fire?” You blink a couple times before you can answer. He licks his lips again, imagining how warm your body would be against him. Finally, you get it out.

“Set me on fire.”

“Am I setting you on fire, honey?”

“I-um-I-what?” You stutter and stammer into the mic and he chuckles.

“Can you sing the line for me?” He gives you a cheeky little grin and you start to suspect he's being difficult on purpose. But you're not about to let on that you've figured this out, so you sing the line.

“Girl, girl, girl, girl you gonna set me on fire.” He was right, your sweet little voice is almost as pretty as you are.

“Mmm honey, I've half a mind to get you in here singing backup for me.” Your cheeks turn pink again.

“Oh, um, thank you. Shall we continue?” He nods.

“Of course.” You push play and he keeps singing until he gets a few more lines done. “What's the line?”

“Burning, burning, burning and nothing can cool me.” He wraps his hand around the mic and pulls it in close to him.

“Oh, honey, I think you could cool me just right, what do you think?” His voice in the microphone is smooth and sexy in your headphones and you feel your center drip even more.

“Huh?”

“Nothin' baby.” He goes back to singing and you make it through the next set of lyrics before he stops you again.

“Next line?”

“It's coming closer, the flames are now licking my body.” He chuckles again.

“Licking what?”

“Licking my body.” You answer, trying to stay as professional as possible. A lopsided grin spreads across his face and he decides to kick it up a notch.

“You want me to lick your body, honey?” You sit in stunned silence and stare at him. You're so turned on you can barely breathe. “I can think of a few places on your body I'd like to lick.”

“Like where?” It comes tumbling out of you breathlessly before you can stop it. He wets his lips with his tongue.

“I bet you've got a pretty little spot between your thighs that I'd love to get my tongue into.” You moan softly into the microphone and he adjusts himself to make his erection less uncomfortable.

“Mr. Presley…” You whisper airily.

“Elvis. I'd love to get these sideburns on your thighs, baby.” You whimper again and he doubles down. “Put my tongue in that pretty pussy.”

You're so hot and bothered at this point that you can't even remember what you're supposed to be doing. He pulls the mic to his lips and keeps going.

“You wanna cum in my mouth, baby?”

“Yes…” You hear yourself whisper as you grind against the chair for friction.

“Let me put this big cock inside you? You want that, honey?” He starts to stroke himself over his pants and you bite your lip and whine.

“Yeah…” You rub your thighs together and watch as he grins and continues to palm his dick over his pants.

“Well, are you comin’ to me or am I comin’ in there?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @deltafalax @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @jhoneybees @polksaladava @searchingforgravity @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @your-nanas-house @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x you #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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fruitmins · 1 year ago

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Agust Dad—Seven

➭ summary: Your a producer from another company that he happened to be collaborating with on his 2nd album D-2. At the release party— one drunk action leads to another, you do the worst thing you can do in the industry

➭genre: short series, pregnancy au, idol au, angst, dad au

➭warnings: slight angst + slight fluff??, mention of nausea, rushed to edit this so might have mistakes

note: it’s 1AM but I don’t careee. my masterlist is coming soon. so many people have birthday’s in October, shoutout to all the October ARMY’s 🫶🏽 thank you EVERYONE for being patient with me

Taglist: @welcometomyworld13 @tatyhend @jiminiesunicorn @littlestarstinyseven @baechugff @thelilbutifulthings @tearykth @familiarlikemymirror3 @coree730 @prajusstuff @wobblewobble822 @choisoorin @manuosorioh @0funsite0 @whipwhoops @bergandysam @aloverga @illnevertrustmyselfagain @silentreadersthings @butterymin @girl-nahh @linneasblog @cuntessaiii @nikkiordonez12 @chl0buggy @serendididy @llallaaa @ghostlyworld @roguesthetic @captainchrisstan @bxcndd @lukeys-giggle

Pain.

Your head is pounding and thumping in your ears.

As you slowly come to, you feel nauseous and dizzy. And it only worsens when you slowly try to lift your heavy eyelids. You slowly open your eyes, your vision cloudy and your mind foggy. You try to look around the bright room, which immediately makes your headache worse as the light makes it more difficult to see.

You blink away the sleepiness from your eyes, and as your vision starts to come into focus, you realize you're lying down.

You slowly come to the realization that you're in a hospital bed, hooked up to tubes and IVs. A faint buzzing noise fills your ears.

You try to move, but your body is completely paralysed. A cold breeze cuts through you, making your teeth chatter and your bones ache.

You’re confused and scared and worst of all, your memory starts to come back.

As the memories of the last few days come flooding back into your mind, you remember the overwhelming anxiety you felt. You feel the nausea increase as you remember the events before you passed out. The fans picking your body apart, speculating about your pregnancy, calling you various cruel names.

You suddenly feel cold, so cold that your teeth practically click. You shiver, your body struggling to retain some sort of warmth. A sense of dread washes over you as you think about what might have happened while you were unconscious.

Underneath all of the icy breeze, your feel some of your skin warmer than the other part of your body.

You look down in the hospital bed you’re lying in. You don’t have a blanket, so when you find the source of the warmth your eyes widen.

Yoongi is there.

Right next to you, fast asleep on your legs, his hand rests on your stomach. You don’t know how long you’ve been in the hospital, or how long he has been with you, but he looks exhausted.

i’m here now

Despite how peaceful he looks while sleeping, there are clear eye bags under his eyes. And you swear you see some dry tears on his clear skin.

Your heart leaps at the sight of Yoongi, the sight of him in tears and looking exhausted breaking your heart.

You want to call out to him, but you're unable to speak. Your throat itchy and closed up.

The machines attached to your body beep and emit various sounds as the data they measure gets recorded and updated.

Yoongi shifts slightly, his eyes opening to reveal tired and puffy eyes, the marks of a man who hasn't slept in days. He sits up slightly, his eyes widening when he looks up at you and he realizes you're awake.

My throat closes even more at the sight of him slowly waking up. It’s a dangerously beautiful sight.

His beautiful eyes fluttering as they slowly open and look at you. The slow realization that you were wake. You don’t like how your heart flutters at the thought of him worrying about you. But it does.

“Y/N..?” His voice is soft and quiet sounding relieved but heavily concerned.

“What happened?” You manage to choke out in a shaky hoarse voice, staring back at him with your own widened eyes.

Yoongi's eyes flicker with worry as he sees the state you're in. Your voice is hoarse and your throat is sore, making you sound like you've been screaming for hours.

"Y/N..." Yoongi says softly again, getting to his feet and moving next to you slightly frantic.

"I should have expected this," he mumbles, his shoulders sinking. "You were already at your limit, trying to keep our relationship a secret. I should have warned Jin or something.." he can’t even look you in the face as he talks.

“I-It wasn’t your fault..” your voice is scratchy and shriveled so you’re not surprised when he still doesn’t relax in the slightest. But he couldn’t have known this would happen.

Even though he is stood up at the side of your bed, his hand stays gently planted on your stomach.

You remember the intense pain you felt before passing out. The sharp stab you felt that left you breathless.

“I-Is the baby okay?” You ask cautiously, almost scared to hear the answer and slightly panicked. You’d never forgive yourself if anything happened.

Yoongi hesitates, looking at you before nodding carefully. "The baby seems to be okay, thankfully."

Relief washes over you, and Yoongi takes a minute to let you digest the words and let you breathe before speaking again. "The doctors wanted to run a few tests, to make sure the baby is healthy. And we did, and thankfully, the baby is safe. But you’re gonna be here for a couple days to make sure.”

Yoongi looks at you, his gaze is full of relief but behind it all, you can see the beginnings of sadness and guilt. "It's not easy, Y/N, to watch you struggle like this." He pauses to collect himself, and your heart races at his words.

After all of the early mornings you spent together, after all of the things he has done for you so far. You can’t help but feel fuzzy inside. You can’t help but feel wanted and safe around him, despite how you felt earlier into your pregnancy.

You open your mouth to speak again, but he stops you quickly. “Wait—“ he says before walking to a nearby counter and grabbing a water bottle. It’s open, but it’s still almost completely full. He had been so stressed he wasn’t drinking water..?

He gets up and hands it to you, before sitting back down in the chair that he was by your legs. You quickly gulp down the water, clenching your thirst and your dry throat.

“Thank you..” you mumble with a cough as he gently takes the empty bottle out of your hands and helps you sit up. “How long have I been out for?”

Yoongi's eyes flicker as he tries to remember. "It's been a few days since we admitted you," he says carefully, trying to keep his voice gentle. "But they said you were dehydrated and exhausted, so they wanted to run some tests and keep you on observation."

“And I’ll be here for you every step of the wa—“ his voice is cut off by his phone ringing loudly. His head snaps to his pocket, an angry expression flashing on his face as he pulls it out of his pocket.

He takes a look at the caller ID and his angry quickly flashes to sadness. “It’s Jin..” he says, looking back up at you and you feel your heart get heavy.

Undoubtedly he was feeling guilty about the whole thing. He was nice to you even before the entire thing and has helped you in many ways.

He declines the call, but you can see his fingers swiftly typing away before putting it back in his pocket.

The sight of his phone brings you back to a harsh reality of what was going on while you’ve been unconscious. Or what you don’t know is going on while you’ve been unconscious.

“Have you seen..the media?” You ask in a low cautious tone. Yoongi sighs heavily in return, his head falling a bit. "Yeah," he says quietly. "The media is in a frenzy."

He shakes his head, his voice low and filled with sadness. "Twitter is going crazy. We're still a trending topic." he says softly, his tone is serious, and it sinks into your head how bad the situation might be.

"It's... not good," he says softly. "People are calling you names for keeping the baby, and they're not being very nice to me either. They're speculating how I feel about it, suggesting that I don’t care about you since I wasn’t standing next to you.“ His voice is filled with disappointment, and slight rage for accusing him of not caring for you.

You can’t help but feel guilty about the whole situation. You can’t imagine how much trouble he must be in with the company, how he must feel about his own fans turning on him.

You let out a shaky breath as you look down at your lap. Hormones kick in, and tears start to build in your eyes. You feel so overwhelmed by everything, even slightly guilty that this all took away from Jin’s big moment.

Despite being at such a low point in your life, Yoongi being here made it better.

"Hey..." Yoongi says softly, noticing you cry. “Don't worry yourself with what these people say. You're doing nothing wrong. We’re gonna focus on you and nothing else.”

He smiles at you, trying to help make you feel better. "I'll get you some food and a blanket."

He stands up and heads to leave the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more.

Yoongi walks back into the room minutes later, carrying a blanket over his shoulder and a small tray in his other hand. He hands you the blanket and sets the tray down next to you.

On the tray is a small container of soup, a cup of tea, and a few small pieces of bread. It's nothing special, but with the stress you've been going through, it might be what you need.

Yoongi sits down on the bed next to you and looks at you with concern. "Do you need anything else?" he asks softly.

“No, but thank you.” You say softly as you start to sip on the soup, looking down as you ate to avoid more butterflies in your stomach.

Yoongi watches you eat, his eyes flickering with concern as he studies the way you move. You look so frail and exhausted, and he hates seeing you like this.

"It's no problem," he says, his tone light and calming.

He looks at you with a small smile, his face expressing the feeling of satisfaction that he's able to take care of you.

A couple of minutes of silence, and he doesn’t even glance down at his phone once, despite the constant buzzing.

There’s a soft knock on the door as you’re slowly eating and a nurse pops her head through the door.

Yoongi's eyes widen as he sees the female nurse walk into the room, followed by the unmistakable form of Jin behind her.

"Jin..." Yoongi says slowly in a greeting, looking over at him. He looks almost as bad as Yoongi, if not worse. You notice how exhausted Jin looks. His eyes are dull and lifeless, and there seems to be something weighing on him. You hated that you were right about him feeling guilty.

"Are you okay?" Jin asks gently, stepping forward into the room and closing the door.

“I’m okay, thank you.” You respond with a slight smile, trying to clear up his gloomy state but it doesn’t help much. He’s bright smile is replaced by a small weak one.

“The rest of the members wanted to come, but I told them you would probably be overwhelmed..” Jin says softly.

He looks at Jin and smiles again. "Thank you for coming all the way here just to check up on her."

Jin nods, his tone more somber as the stress of the situation settles on his shoulders. "I'm just glad you're up and alright. How are you feeling?"

“Better..” you mumble as the doctor clears her throat. “We’re gonna do an ultrasound now that you’re awake. And since you’re about 21 weeks along you have the option to know what the gender is if you want.” She says happily with a smile.

Yoongi listens to the doctor in silence, his eyes flickering towards you and the doctor. When she's done speaking, he gently touches his fingers to yours, squeezing them.

He leans close, his voice almost a whisper. "Whatever you decide, I'll support your decision," he says, his voice barely audible and filled with a bit of anxiety.

You glance away from him, hoping you’re not blushing by how close he is and your eyes find Jin’s. You take a pause to think about it before answering. “I think it should be a surprise for us.. So Jin can through an awesome gender reveal party.” You say with a warm smile.

Yoongi smiles slightly, and the tension is lifted a bit. "I think that's a good idea," he says softly.

Jin looks between the both of you with a small smile, taken aback by the request at first but you can see his eyes brighten a bit. "I'll do my best to plan the most extravagant party you've ever seen," he says, his voice filled with excitement.

Yoongi looks at the doctor, seeing if she has anything else to say before he nods towards her. "Can we begin?"

"Of course," she says, gesturing for you to move to the ultrasound machine.

Yoongi gently helps you move towards it, positioning you on the bed so the ultrasound machine can get a better image of you and the baby.

But of course, now you and Yoongi can’t see the baby to reveal it’s gender so the two of you close your eyes as she examines the baby. It feels like only a few seconds passed before she leaves the room with Jin, assuring you two that the baby was okay but telling you to take it slow for a week or two.

Yoongi moves out of the way and opens his eyes once the nurse and Jin leave, looking towards you. "How are you feeling?" he asks softly, making sure you're okay.

You notice the relief on his face as you open your eyes, and you smile slightly, happy that you're both okay and the baby's healthy.

“Better.” You say again, this time more warmly and lightly. The slight change in your tone brings a warm smile to Yoongi's face.

"Good," he says softly, taking your hand. "The baby's doing alright, thankfully. You need rest, though," he tells you, his voice calm and gentle. "We'll talk more once you've gotten some sleep."

“Okay..” You say with a small nod, knowing that you still felt weak and cold. Now that you knew the baby was well, you were gonna trend very carefully.

Yoongi looks like he wants to say something more, debating with himself before letting out a sigh. “This is gonna sound stupid, but I heard somewhere that by this stage, babies can hear.”

You glance up at him curiously as he said this. It makes you intrigued that he was even reading about it. “And I thought it would be cool, if the baby heard the song we worked on together.”

Your eyes widen at his words. You’re undoubtedly flushed now, but Yoongi can’t tell because he is to busy avoiding your eyes.

“It’s stupid.” He groans to himself once he hears your silence but you quickly snap out of your thoughts and quickly shake your head.

“No, no. It’s sweet. It might actually help me fall asleep.” You reply softly and Yoongi glances over at you, raising an eyebrow at you suspiciously.

You let out a small chuckle at his stunned reaction. “I’m serious.” You mumble and he takes a small moment to study you before silently pulling out his phone and pulling up the song.

You lean back against the hospital bed, yawning softly as you do and seconds later you hear the song start playing. He sits down and scoots the chair closer to you, closer to your stomach.

Memories flood your head about your time working on the song with him as you close your eyes. How easy it was working with Yoongi, listening to the whole album, and of the party as a result. Memories you blocked out a long time ago.

But memories you know longer wanted to hide from. Memories you now cherished.

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angie-words · 2 months ago

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Rivals Interview & Photoshoot

CW for mentions of sex, nudity

Highlights from the article (abridged! Full article by Caitlin Moran here):

Jilly Cooper’s raunchy Rivals: ‘You will see a lot of willies’

It’s taken 36 years, but finally Jilly Cooper’s legendary bonkbuster Rivals is on TV. Caitlin Moran — who was such a fan, she changed her name to one of the book’s characters — meets the author and stars on set and asks: how was it for you?

Guess where I am.

Oh my gosh — I am in RUTSHIRE.

If you own one of the multimillion copies sold of Jilly Cooper’s infamous Rutshire Chronicles books, you will a) be as excited as me, and b) know exactly where I am.

Yes, I am standing in front of a beautiful, honey-coloured mansion.

Yes, it is a beautiful summer’s day.

Yes, the herbaceous borders are magnificent.

Yes, there are adorable dogs milling around.

Yes, there are champagne bottles strewn hither and yon.

And yes, everyone is dressed in alternately fabulous, or ridiculous, Eighties outfits, with gigantic hair.

The ladies have electric-blue eyeshadow and golden, heaving bosoms.

The men, meanwhile, have tanned legs, huge Rolexes — and, in many instances, their gigantic hair manifests lower down: in moustaches like that of Tom Selleck.

And yes, of course, there is drama. David Tennant — wearing a lavish, gold, silken man-blouse and sucking on a cigar — is furious. He is savaging a roomful of party people, all looking stricken — and all, incongruously, wearing swimwear.

“How the f*** has this happened?” Tennant screams, as all the tits and legs fidget, gaudy piña coladas abandoned. “Get the f*** out there and sort this out! And why are you all wearing bikinis?”

Tennant storms from the room, apoplectic with rage — and then sees me.

“Oh, hello, darling,” he says, all sweetness and light.

“CUT!” the director calls.

Today, David Tennant isn’t, of course, David Tennant. He’s Tony Baddingham, the infamous, nominative-determinist baddie of Jilly Cooper’s Rivals.

“So, is this fun?” I ask him.

The last time I saw him on set, he was being the Doctor in Doctor Who, in a floor-length coat, trying to save the world from being exploded. Again. In the rain. In Wales. At 1am.

“Oh yes,” Tennant says. “I mean, look at my blouse. It’s like my aunt’s! Actually, I think it might be hers — it closes right to left. Don’t men’s buttons close left to right? Am I wearing,” he asks the room at large, “a woman’s blouse?”

“We need to go again, David,” the director says.

“Back in a tick,” Tennant says, running back on set, sucking on his cigar. Getting ready to be really evil, and Eighties, again.

-----

When it comes to the atmosphere on set, I later talk to David Tennant about this subject.

“Yes — there was a lot of due diligence about only having … joyful people on set. Crew and cast,” Tennant says, carefully.

(Dominic) Treadwell-Collins - executive producer - is more forthright.

“We had a very strict ‘no arseholes’ policy,” he says.

-----

Your mother was a Jilly Cooper fan? And, therefore, presumably … a Rupert Campbell-Black fan?

“My mum, you know … blushed when I told her [I’d got the role],” (Alex) Hassell admits. “A lot of women blushed when I told them.”

I’m interviewing Hassell, 44, and Tennant, 53, together. As a former Doctor, Tennant has, of course, a lot of experience in playing a role women find attractive.

“Once you’ve made [Rupert Campbell-Black] flesh, I think a lot of people are going to find it difficult to interact with you, Alex,” he says, helpfully.

It seems Hassell is aware of this.

“Yes,” he says. “One friend, when I told her, said, ‘Oh, that’s a bean-flicker role!’ I said, ‘Ah, I see.’ ”

“Huh. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone come up to me and say, ‘I’ve masturbated thinking about you,’ ” Tennant says, thoughtfully.

“David!” Hassell exclaims, hurt. “When we met, that’s the first thing I said.”

-----

“Tony’s from a lower class, while Rupert was born with an entire silver cutlery canteen in his mouth,” Tennant says. “So whatever Tony does, he never has that class advantage. Tony needs to taste the blood of his betters in his mouth to make him feel better. Rupert’s blood.”

“And while Rupert is, in many ways, a shit,” Hassell says, thoughtfully, “he’s not a bad man, like Tony. Tony is jealous of Rupert. He wants his house, his women, his life.”

Accordingly, this suit-based class war plays out as Campbell-Black tries to take over Baddingham’s TV station — and the backstabbing, shenanigans, shagging and skulduggery commence.

-----

The tennis court at Cooper’s house is the setting for one of her most iconic scenes — where Campbell-Black first meets his love interest, Taggie, while he’s playing naked tennis. He is adjudged to have lost a match point because something is over the line. Oh, why am I being so coy? This is Jilly Cooper. It’s his penis. His massive penis is judged to be over the line. A note to diehard fans: this scene is shot exactly as written. You will see a lot of willies.

“We’ve been equal opportunities in our nudity,” Treadwell-Collins says. “There’s a willy for every pair of tits.”

“That was my great disappointment over the TV show,” Cooper sighs. “The tennis court is a terrible mess — no one’s played on it for 20 years — and I thought [Disney] might be darlings and build me a new one.”

She looks around, hopefully.

“Do you think anyone here has some booze?” she asks. “It is the afternoon.”

Cooper has been an invaluable muse to everyone on set while filming. In one scene, she handed over an urgent note that read, “Rupert would never say ‘spouse’ — that’s very lower-middle [class]. He would say ‘wife’.”

She argued for particularly Cooperesque jokes and puns to stay in, and was firm that the whole “First of May” tradition remain.

“Oh, yes,” she says, looking delighted, and then quotes herself. “ ‘First of May, first of May — outdoor f***ing starts today. But if as usual it do rain, we f*** off indoors again.’ ”

This ribald rhyme kicks off a massive shagging montage, involving the entire cast. And all outdoors, of course.

-----

I can’t tell you what fun it is interviewing all the Rivals people. Because of the show, everyone talks about their memories of the Eighties (David Tennant: “No, my Eighties weren’t like a Jilly Cooper book — I was at school in Paisley with my glasses held together with sticky tape, and a very unappealing haircut”), and smoking (Hassell: “Everyone smoked everywhere, didn’t they? Even on planes. They’d draw across that little … health curtain, and everyone smoked behind it”), and how hard it was to leave Cooper’s world when shooting finished (Hassell: “No one was looking at me like I’m the most sexy man on the planet any more. It was tough.”)

-----

In the event, (Aidan) Turner, 41, is an absolute hoot — particularly on the subject of the massive moustache he sports on the show. It is a magnificent specimen of upper-lip pelt. It looks like a vole fell asleep under his nose.

It looks like the one Ned Flanders has on The Simpsons, I tell him.

Turner gives a huge, barking laugh.

“Ned Flanders? I mean, I was thinking more … Irish stag? Super-masculine?”

He starts giggling again.

Turner’s relaxed stance towards his sex god-dom comes with an interestingly meta twist. In Rivals, one of Baddingham’s TV shows is called Four Men Went to Mow — where sexy farmers, sexily stripped to the waist, carry out sexy agricultural duties.

Turner, of course, infamously stripped to the waist a few times in Poldark, for that scything scene or lying in bed or emerging from the sea. In a pleasingly postmodern moment, one scene sees Turner rail against Four Men Went to Mow — raging, almost camply, “TV can’t just be men taking their tops off!”

Rivals is on Disney+ from October 18

#i am looking respectfully #david tennant fandom #David Tennant #david tennant #rivals jilly cooper #jilly cooper #aidan turner #alex hassell #bonkbuster #good omens #crowley

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joelsdagger · 9 months ago

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let it flow || one shot

masterlist | ao3

pairing: sub!frankie x f!reader rating: 18+ minors dni word count: 4.4k (i think something possessed me bc this was originally 1k lmao) summary: you start a new form of birth control which has many side effects but frankie takes advantage of one side effect in particular. warnings: canon divergent, established relationship (reader and frankie are married), sub!frankie, soft dom!reader, body worship, pet names, nipple play, mommy kink, lactation kink, mutual masturbation , praise kink, pre-ejaculation, overstimulation, cumplay, cum eating, fluff. No use of Y/N. No physical descriptions of reader. um i think that’s it? *scratches neck* disclaimer: this is literally for shits and giggles bc a friend and i were talking about sub!frankie having a lactation kink, but we weren’t feeling the whole pregnancy trope so i found a loophole hehe. after extensive research, i found that certain types of birth control that include progestin *can* increase lactation as well as breast enlargement and tenderness, so i tweaked this specifically for the purpose of this fic. i don’t study medicine so some of this isn’t 100% accurate so if anything is wrong just remember this is just for horny fun and i changed some things to fit what i was going for. if this piece is not for you, that’s cool, obviously not everyone is gonna be into the same stuff but please just move along and let everyone else enjoy the fun.

a/n: thank you for all the love on my first fic i was so incredibly nervous about it but yall have been so so kind. this one is for kat and lyss who gave me this idea and then we screamed about it til 1am. shout out to @skrunkly-scrimblo and @papurgaatika for beta’ing. thanks for reading i hope you like it <3

super cute divider by @saradika

You’re staring back at yourself in the foggy mirror of your bathroom, assessing your breasts, they’re full, heavy and they ache. This is the fourth day in a row of feeling the consequences of your new birth control and the pain has only gotten worse. “The shit we do….fuckin’ birth control,” you mumble under your breath.

You had switched to a different form of birth control earlier in the week, the IUD route wasn’t working out so well for you. For starters, the pain of getting the IUD implanted was unbelievably excruciating and on top of that, you had ParaGard (the copper IUD) implanted which didn’t have hormones so you were still getting your period. Your periods were heavy and painful and you have been seeking an alternative solution to stop them completely. At your last visit with your gynecologist, you both agreed to switch you over to taking birth control pills.

Your physician had informed you that the pill form was a progestin-only contraceptive that would decrease the bleeding during your menstrual cycle or possibly get rid of it completely if you skipped the placebo pills on the last week of your pack. There was one not-so-tiny problem, you were not told that being on the pill would make your tits swell and you sure as hell didn’t know the damn pill would make you lactate.

Earlier today you practically sobbed to your doctor on the phone.

“Doc, sorry to be blunt but my tits fucking hurt,” you cry, tears welling up in your eyes. At this point, the pain had become unbearable.

“That’s pretty normal hun, it’s a common side effect for some women. As I told you on Monday, the use of a hormonal birth control that contains progestin can increase the likelihood of producing breast milk even if you aren’t pregnant. It’s your hormones adjusting to the pill and it’s going to take your body three to four months to adjust,” your doctor explained.

‘Wait three to four months,” you shout, "Doc, you didn’t mention anything about that. What the hell am I supposed to do?” you ask rashly.

Your doctor hesitates, “Well, we could go back to the copper IUD but then-”

“Then, I’d get my period yeah absolutely not,” you frantically cut her off.

“We could book you to come back in and try another route but I’m booked until the end of the month,” she suggests.

“Of course you are, you’re like the only nice physician in the office, everyone wants to see you,” you laugh bitterly.

“There is something else that may help until we can see you in the office...many women have said that it helps,” she says.

You cross an arm around your chest, wincing slightly as your arm presses tightly against your chest, before dropping your arm back down at your side, “Okay…what is it?”

“You could massage them or have your husband stimulate your nipples,” she says nonchalantly.

“Stimulate my nipples?” you hesitate, your eyes widening at her suggestion.

“Yes, have him use his fingers or-”

“You’re not serious?”

Your doctor chuckles at your curiosity, “Yes, nipple stimulation and other sensual activities, can trigger and release the hormone, oxytocin, commonly referred to as the love hormone. Once oxytocin is triggered, your hormone levels are boosted and then it increases arousal and stress relief. Once it's released into the bloodstream, it helps alleviate breast tenderness and breast pain as well assisting with the flow of breast milk so yes, it’ll help.” she says pointedly.

You stare ahead, wide eyed and mouth agape. What the hell are you supposed to say to that?

“Look honey, many women have come in and told me directly that it helps, believe it or not, it even helps induce labor, but that’s beside the point, many women have been in your position and they have reported that it works. So at least try this out, and see how it makes you feel, just until we can get you an appointment and have you come in and then we can try something else. Alright?” she asks.

“Yeah alright, thanks again Doc,” you huff, your hand rubs at your temple before dragging it down your face.

“No problem hun, keep me updated through the portal,” she says.

“Will do,” you hung up the phone and tossed it on the couch.

That was six hours ago and now you’re standing in your bathroom as you wait for the bathtub to fill up. You read online that heat therapy could reduce some of the pain. While your husband was at work, you sprawled yourself out across the couch with a heating pad on your chest. It managed to ease the pain for a bit until the set timer turned the heating pad off and the second you stood up, the pain worsened again.

To be honest, you’re a little embarrassed to bring it up to Frankie. It's not like Frankie won’t want to do it, he’d be very interested but what the hell are you supposed to say to him. Hey honey, my tits hurt and they’re leaking breast milk. Can you play with them a little so they feel better? He loves to engage in a little titty appreciation but this is a whole different ball game. You really aren’t in the mood to have this conversation with Frankie tonight, unsure of how he would react and possibly causing a bigger issue.

You can hear the TV through the bathroom door, Frankie is watching some game. But when he hears you croak out in pain when you remove your bra, hands clutching at your swollen breasts, he moves lightning fast towards the bathroom door.

“Querida, are you alright in there?” he asks through the door, his hand wrapped around the door handle.

You bite down on your lip, sighing before you finally bite the bullet and admit what’s going on. You crack open the door just enough so he can hear you better.

“It’s-,” You let out another exhausted sigh as you rub your temple, feeling your cheeks warm.

“Remember, a few days ago, I went to my gynecologist and we decided to switch birth control methods?” He nods, eyes full of concern.

“The pills are making my hormones go crazy and they’re making my tits swell and well…” you pull the door open to gesture towards your breasts. “I’m like a fucking pregnant woman but without the damn pregnancy,” you grumble.

You immediately clock the worry on his face but Frankie can’t help the fact that he is practically salivating when he looks down at your tits. You notice his jaw slacken, his lips part as he takes in the curve of your breasts, they have grown a noticeable difference in size. You hear him inhale sharply when his stare drops to your nipples, dark and swollen.

Suddenly feeling a little shy under the intensity of his gaze, you bring a hand up to cover your breasts, he inhales once again before speaking, yet you speak before he does, “It’s fine, apparently a bath will help, and I’ve got the water running. I’ll be out in a few minutes babe,” you press, a tight smile on your face.

You see it all over his face, he wants to help but he doesn’t know how. His big, deep brown eyes filled with worry. “Okay baby, I’ll give you some privacy. I’ll be in the bedroom if you need anything,” he says quietly, eyebrows still raised. You can sense the uneasiness in his body language but he doesn’t press the subject.

You thank him and shut the door, hearing him step back towards the bed. You slip off your panties and toss them into the hamper, then step into the hot water, sighing as you dip beneath the water.

After a few short minutes, you slowly bring your hands up to cup your breasts, experimentally kneading them. You press your hands more firmly and you bite down on your lip as you try to muffle a quiet moan. Huh. It does help. You continue toying with them until the water is no longer warm and your fingers become pruny.

Dragging yourself out of the water and stepping out of the tub, you pull the plug out, the water spinning through the drain. Leisurely, you dry yourself off, pull a thin white tank top over your head, and drag a clean pair of blue lace panties over your legs.

As you open the door to let the steam out of the bathroom, you grab your fuzzy robe from the hook behind the door, wrap it around your damp body, and head into the bedroom to catch the rest of the game with your husband.

Yet, to your surprise, you find the TV off and instead see Frankie sitting up in bed, one hand tucked behind his head and the other holding his phone as he squints at the screen.

You chuckle as you walk over to your nightstand. “Thought you were supposed to be wearing your glasses?” You tease, your lips forming into a smile.

“I look dorky with ‘em, ‘sides I don’t need them right now,” he mimics your tone and turns his head to watch as you pump some of your cocoa butter body lotion into your hand and work it into your skin.

“So, I did some googling,” he starts, a sly smirk creeping up onto his face as he continues, “It said…messaging them and sucking on them would help.” His eyes are still on the bare parts of your damp skin, completely enamored by how your skin looks in the dim light of your bedroom.

You tense, hands freezing, streaks of lotion yet to be fully rubbed into your skin, “Baby, that’s ridiculous,” you laugh him off.

“No, I’m serious look,” Frankie sits up and moves across the bed, holding out his phone for you to read the article he was studying beforehand.

“I don’t know about this Frankie,” you shake your head, frowning while you avert your eyes from his.

“Come here,” smirking devilishly as he brings his hands up to your arms, pulling you towards the bed.

“Frankie–” you scoff, playfully rolling your eyes at him.

He tilts his head up to look up at you with those big brown eyes that you often find difficult turning down. “Trust me,” his hands rubbing up and down your arms soothingly.

“You know I do, Frankie, the hell did I marry you for,” you tease, you sneak your hands behind his neck and interlock your fingers as you lean down and press a soft kiss to his head.

“Then c’mere, let me help,” he whispers and it sounds more like a plea. He’s pulling you down onto the bed, guiding you to sit up against the pillows. His hands find your robe, untying the knot in the soft belt across your waist. You lean forward slightly while he pulls your robe off slowly, his eyes watching your face, searching for any indication to stop but he doesn’t find any.

He tosses the robe behind him on the bed as he leans down over you, nudging your legs open as he settles himself between your legs. He brings his hands back up to the thin material of your tank top, cupping your tender breasts in his large hands.

“You’re so beautiful, so perfect, fuck–, so pretty baby,” he babbles lowly, goosebumps erupt on your skin, even after years of being married to him he still knows exactly what to say to make you feel so desirable.

He gently squeezes your breasts, his thumb sweeps over your nipple back and forth, you whine softly as your hands find his hair, burying your fingers in his curls. It hurts but it’s pleasurable, the pressure he’s using feels better than what you were doing earlier in the bath.

Frankie pinches your covered nipples between his rough fingers, hardening under his touch, you hiss when he tweaks them tightly, Frankie pauses, his eyes meet yours for a moment, “it’s okay–feels good, keep going,” you whisper to him.

He brings his mouth down to one of your nipples and sucks it through the material with his other hand still fondling your other nipple. “Fuck– that feels good Frankie,” you moan, he whimpers lowly and feels his cock twitch in his boxers. Your eyes roll back in your head, your mouth falls open and he hollows his cheeks, sucking harder around your nipple.

His mouth lets go of your breast, you look down to see the wet patch that formed over your peaked-covered nipple before he hastily pulls the tank top over your head, tossing it onto the floor, Frankie lets out a shameless groan when his eyes hungrily lock on your bare chest like a missile to a target.

He leans in closer, his mouth hovering over your breast. You feel the warmth of his breath over your breast, a tingling sensation sneaks down your body. His hot mouth closes around your pebbled nipple.

“Shit, Frankie,” you arch further into his mouth, and he moans and his tongue flicks up against your peaked nipple, and then he bites down softly, his eyes open, looking up at you from under his eyelashes. Frankie feels a slight warm gush fill his mouth, his eyes slip closed, whimpering around the bud.

You tug on Frankie’s hair, pulling his mouth away from you, your stomach twisting at his reaction when he feels the gush of liquid filling his mouth. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that would happen-”

“Baby, hey, it’s okay. I was just surprised-”

“No I know, it’s just gross,” you frown, feeling the pang of embarrassment in your belly.

“It’s not–it’s not gross. I–I liked it,” Frankie says sheepishly.

“Really?” you ask softly.

He laughs lightly and leans forward to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth then another just below your jaw. His beard scraping along your skin as he places wet open-mouthed kisses down your neck, all the way down past your collarbones until he reaches the valley of your breasts once again.

“Relax baby, I got ya,” he whispers against your skin.

Your eyes squeeze shut, your head falls back against the headboard, and your hand comes up to the nape of his neck, petting at his long brown curls. He ducks down to bring his mouth to your nipple, he parts his lips around the bud, his tongue circling around the bud a few times, licking at your nipple, he closes his lips and sucks softly before tugging it between his teeth, he hums around it, making you grasp at the sheets beneath you, a low ache building in the pit of your stomach.

“That’s it baby boy,” you say softly, petting his hair. You open your eyes when you feel him press his cock against your leg, his cock stirring in his boxers at your praise.

He’s loving this, loves the taste of you and loves how good he’s making you feel.

His hand palms your other breast, squeezing and kneading the meat of your tit, beads of milk collecting at the peak. He takes your nipple in between his calloused fingers and pinches it harder between his index and middle finger, the milk pours out from the bud down his hand and onto his forearm.

Frankie feels the warm liquid on his arm, his mouth letting go of your breast, his pupils full of lust never leaving your face as he lifts his left hand up and licks a long slow, thick stripe from his forearm up his hand. Your mouth falls open and your chest heaves at the sight.

“You taste so fucking sweet, baby,” he groans, his eyes closing at the taste of you. His cock twitches against your leg, now painfully hard in his boxers.

He dips his head back down and licks up the milk leaking down your torso up to your nipple. He moans once his hot mouth latches around the stiff peak and his tongue swirls around it. He laps up the warm white liquid he’s sucking out of your breast. “There you go baby, just like that,” you sigh, closing your eyes and your head falls back against the headboard.

One of his knees perches onto your leg, he grinds his cock against the meat of your thigh, he moans deeply, his fingers digging into the flesh of your breasts. “So, needy for me huh, baby boy,” you tut, gripping firmly onto his soft curls.

He whines quietly, and unbeknownst to Frankie, he starts rutting his hard length against your leg in slow, shallow thrusts, you feel a rumble of a moan in his throat around your nipple. At the sudden movement, your head snaps up to see your husband getting himself off against your body, his teeth sinking into your breast.

You’ve never seen him like this before, he’s insatiable and relentless and it makes your pussy pulse and clench around nothing.

“Ohhh that’s it– good boy Frankie,” you moan breathlessly, feeling him suck harder on your breast with a deep groan.

You grab at Frankie’s hair again, your hand combs his hair back while tugging at his hair, gently pulling his head back and he whines loudly when you pull his mouth away from your breast. You catch a glistening sheen on his lips when you direct his head to your other breast.

Your eyes meet his dark, blown out pupils as your thumb rubs his cheek down to the corner of his mouth. You thumb the bottom of his plump, soft lip, wiping the milk off of his mouth. Your thumb slips between his lips and you whisper, “Who’s my good boy?”

He shivers beneath your touch, “I am,” he murmurs softly, his head resting down on your chest once again. Your hand cradles his head and you move your hand down along his head to cup his face.

You watch your husband’s eyes shut as he closes his mouth around your nipple and continues suckling from your breast, “Fuck– Frankie, keep going,” you pant into his hair, your hands still toying with his curls, eliciting another whine from him.

He shifts and begins fucking himself into the mattress once again, seeking any type of friction possible.

Watching your husband getting himself off to your body sends a sharp, hot spark of arousal down your spine straight to your core, your pussy throbbing and your panties now wet and sticky with your slick.

You smirk and bring your lips down to his ear, whispering the word that you know lights a fire within him. “You’re making mommy feel so good baby,” and Frankie whimpers, his mouth swallowing your breast whole, his hips grinding down faster into the mattress.

“That’s it, baby, atta boy, such a good boy for mommy,” you coo into his ear. Frankie lets out a high-pitched whine, his hips stuttering and groaning when he feels himself spilling out all over the inside of his boxers. Your mouth falls open, your eyes wide as you stare at him, realizing he just came simply from putting his mouth on you.

His hips shudder, occasionally jerking erratically, his legs shaking uncontrollably as he hisses from overstimulation, you continue whispering praises into his ears.

While his mouth works on relieving your breast you take matters into your own hands, bringing your fingers down to your neglected cunt. You press your fingers into your covered slit, feeling the wetness of your pussy through the material before pushing your panties to the side. You move your fingers to your throbbing clit, circling eagerly while his tongue swirls over your nipple.

He bites down on the bud a little more harshly, feeling another gush of warm liquid in his mouth, “tastes so good mi corozòn,” he whimpers against your breast, closing his eyes while his teeth nip at the wet bud.

Feeling a cooling wetness from his eyes seeping onto your breast, you briefly look down to find tears stinging his eyes from the pleasure, the teeth marks on your nipples, your skin all wet and red from his mouth.

He continues sucking at your breast, licking up the sweet taste of you into his mouth and moaning around your nipple, savoring the taste.

You slip your fingers into your wet heat with a moan. “So good, Frankie, ohhh– you’re doing so well for mommy,” you gasp out while grinding your hips up into your own hand. He whimpers, his cock twitches, throbbing lightly against the mattress, he’s getting hard just from hearing that word once again.

Your other hand roughly tugs on Frankie’s soft locks, pushing his head further into you, swallowing more of your breast into his mouth.

Frankie was too far gone to notice, but you realize he’s grinding himself into the bed once again, still moaning and whimpering into your tender flesh. You thrust your fingers into your pussy, timing them to Frankie’s thrusts into the bed, the wet squelch from your fingers thrusting in and out obscenely echoes in your bedroom.

“That’s perfect, Frankie— don– don’t stop…shit. I’m so close–” You curl your fingers inside yourself, petting at the spongy spot deep inside while his teeth nip and lick and suck at your tit.

You shout Frankie’s name as your back arches off the bed, legs shaking around Frankie’s body when your orgasm finally sweeps over you.

He pulls off your nipple with a wet pop, moving fast to sit up and back on his knees, his hands making quick work of pulling off his underwear. His cock bobs up against the soft swell of his stomach. He hisses when he wraps a large hand around the girth and he thumbs the wide blunt of his tip smearing the beads of pearly white dribbling out from the slit.

Your tongue pokes out, licking your bottom lip before biting down on the flesh. Your hands massage your breasts, your fingers pinching your erect, sensitive nipples under Frankie’s fucked out gaze.

Desperately, he fists his cock over your figure. “Come, baby. Be a good boy and come for mommy,” you order him while staring into his eyes, dark and dilated, his mouth hanging open as he strokes his cock.

Your low voice and your words are all he needs to bring him over the edge. The thrusting of his hips gets more erratic as he jacks his cock tighter in his hand and increases the pace, the wet, lewd slap from his strokes gets louder, his whimpers and pants filling the otherwise quiet room.

“There you go, atta boy, give it to me Frankie, let it out," you encourage him softly.

Your eyes watch the muscles in his soft belly tighten and his thighs tensing up, his moans growing louder and louder and louder, his eyes roll back into his head, “Fuck– mami,” a long drawn out, agonizing groan slipping past his lips, you watch as his cock twitches in his hand, his hips stammer as long, thick, warm ropes of cum paint your stomach.

“That’s it baby, just like that, you did so good. So good Frankie,” you murmur. He opens his eyes and looks back down at you, still catching his breath while he watches the last of his cum spill onto your swollen breasts, he groans seeing the marks he’s left on your skin. Your tits are covered in splotches of red and teeth marks from his mouth, his come and the milk from your breasts leaking down your chest and onto your stomach.

His hair is a mess, his pupils are blown out, he looks completely in a haze, utterly fucked out. You smirk up at him and click your tongue, “You made such a mess on mommy, Frankie.”

His cheeks warm, the redness creeping down his neck and chest, he’s embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that,” he mumbles, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

You move your fingers down your stomach, gathering his cum onto your fingers, “Don’t get shy on me now, come here my love,” your other hand reaches for him.

He crawls up towards your side, you slip a coated finger into your mouth and you close your eyes and hum. Frankie curses quietly to himself, seeing your pearly-covered finger slipping into your mouth and back out devoid of sheen.

You bring a finger up to his mouth, your fingertip pressing against his lips, “open,” you order. You take advantage of his jaw slackening, sticking your glossy finger into his mouth and his lips close around your digit. You feel his tongue flatten underneath your finger then swirls it around your finger as he sucks it clean, he closes his eyes, his brows furrow, and he moans at the salty taste.

“See, I keep telling you, you taste good, sweetheart,” you smile down at him, tucking a single brown lock behind his ear.

“You did so good for me baby, made me feel so good,” you tell him while holding his patchy-bearded face. He chuckles timidly before pressing his lips to yours, licking behind your teeth, tasting himself in your mouth and mumbles a faint I love you against your lips.

Frankie pecks your lips again before sitting up and walking over to the bathroom. You hear him flick the light on and the tap turning on and off while your eyes drift shut. You feel the warm wet rag dragging across your tummy and your tits, and then down between your folds as he cleans you up with tenderness.

You open your eyes again when you hear him pad off towards the bathroom once more, watching him toss the washcloth back in the bathroom before he tucks himself into your side and nuzzles his face into the valley of your breasts, the coarse hairs of his beard tickling your skin.

Frankie’s low voice breaks the comfortable silence, “Next time it hurts, you tell me cariño, ‘m more than happy to do that again,” he says shyly, feeling the smile on his face against your chest.

You fail to suppress your giggle, “Yeah, you enjoyed yourself didn’t you, sweet boy?” Your fingers run through his long soft brown curls, your fingertips grazing down his neck, a hint of sweat at the end of his hair along the back of his neck.

“Mhm,” he hums, and you grin into his hair, pressing your lips to his messy curls, your eyelids heavy with sleep. He feels your fingers still, Frankie tilts his head to look up at you, “Don’t fall asleep yet, we’re not done mi vida, I still need to make you come again.”

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales #sub!frankie morales #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x y/n #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #noelle's workshop

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marchsfreakshow · 3 months ago

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Sorry 'Bout It~! [Michael De Santa]

fluff / teasing smut // just a drabble

Being Michael's constant affair partner was a situation. Especially when you were friends with his children before-hand.

Take it. Another Michael fic because I have old man Mikey brainrot. He's invaded me with this song.

Now a wedding present for my friend @danzinmfndaze! I love you lotta daze and I hope you enjoy this when you get a chance<3

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

1am.

The most silent yet noisest time of night.

Amanda, somewhere in another man's house, Tracey, 'partying' at a producer's place, Jimmy, deep in his games. Michael?

With you, in his pool out the back of his mansion. In your favourite swim suit. Enjoying the warm water in the moonlight, shining stars brightining your time together. "If only Jimmy wasn't here.." a whisper escaped your lips as you glanced up at the house.

"Useless little shit..." Michael's only response to your words.

"Hey! He's a cool guy sometimes."

"Nuh uh. Shh, this isn't about Jimmy. It's about you sweetheart." His words only served as consent, for his kisses on your neck. They never went further than kisses and caresses when you were in that warmed pool of his. A noise between a chuckle and a moan left you as those kisses became bites, licks and nibbles. Small marks pressed around the skin of your neck.

"Mikey.." the little whimper left your lips, and it served as some fuel for Michael's fire.

"c'mon...it's been so long angel."

Sudden hesitation. It froze you, and as much you were in lust with the older man...there were always worries in the back of your mind. I mean, you were friends with his kids. Close friends with Tracey and the one who would just sit with Jimmy, playing Righteous Slaughter with him. "What? You worried suddenly?" He asked gently against your ear, frowning slightly.

"I...I suppose so. I'm not sure how to describe it."

"describe it best you can to me sweetheart, c'mon.." His hand rested on your thigh, softly stroking it under the warm water. That warm voice of his. It always melted you. No matter what.

It took you a moment to find a response. But you found it, eventually. "Knowing Jimmy is like...right there, and he's my best friend it's...it's breakin my heart Mikey.."

"oh baby.." A vibrating hum left your lips in response to the nickname, escaping his eye contact. His wet fingers reached up to your chin, pulling your face close. Glassy, worried eyes meeting more stronger, confident looks. Michael would be the death of you, and you both knew it. "You are the best person i've ever bought things for. I..I love my family, you know I do...but jesus I think I love you more."

"don't say that Mike.." Awkward chuckle escaping you, smiling gently as he pressed his lips to yours. Such darling kisses, always melting you. Momentarily letting you forget the other three members of the De Santa family.

"it's true.. always will be.."

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tag: @beetleblunt

#gta #gta v #grand theft auto #grand theft auto V #gta 5 #michael de santa x reader #michael de santa #Michael de santa x you #x reader #gta fanfiction #gta imagine #michael townley #Michael townley x reader

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fanaticsnail · 1 year ago

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You Kissed the Clown? Part 7

Ok, I am currently writing part 8 as we speak but I physically couldn't cut any filler as so much happens in the OPLA to get from point A to point B. I got a little bit upset with myself at not yet reuniting our star-crossed lovers, especially with the amount of words involved. Next chapter, I promise you!! Hopefully uploaded before 1am my time this time!

Part 6 back here

Word Count: 4,358

Upon arising from your slumber, you groggily rubbed the back your closed fist over your eyes before moving both hands to the corner of your mouth to remove any stale saliva from your lips. You adjusted your eyes to notice the rays of the morning sun filtering through the beams of the external wooden shutters. You slowly sat, removing the plush bedsheets from your torso and reaching yourself up in an overexaggerated stretch to relieve any kinks you acquired in the night.

Your blissful awakening was immediately dissipated at the arrival of your tri-sword wielding crewmate as his face littered with more emotion than you had ever seen his expression contorted to produce. He was panting slightly; eyes wide in worry before relaxing into a sense of relief before creasing his brows in rising anger. You creased your brows in confusion as to the interruption of your blissful ignorance.

It was only one seeing your unphased and well rested expression that Zoro erupted into a tirade of: “where were you?”, “were you sleeping this whole time?”, “we needed you!”, “you could’ve been killed-,” before growling, “-we were nearly killed!”. Your eyes widened in shock as you slumped your back into the bedframe, mouth opening and closing like a fish gulping in water.

He paced the room, abrasively describing the events that transpired throughout the evening. You continued to be perplexed by the informational transfer between the swordsman and yourself. You felt your eyes begin to well lightly at the continual berating tirade from the sword-wielder, not expecting to be reprimanded at this early hour.

You flung your sheets from your lower body and swung your legs to the side of the bed and abruptly sprinted to the swordsman and gripped his shoulders, bringing him into a sudden embrace. You held him to you, pressing your cheek against his chest and breathed in deeply as you felt him falter his stance and lean into your arms. He hooked his chin over your shoulder and laced his arms around your waist, allowing a wave of relief that his friend had survived through the night.

“We thought you had been slaughtered,” he whispered harshly into your shoulder. You breathed out and removed your head from its place resting on his chest and uncurled your arms from his shoulder.

“I am sorry, Zoro,” you apologised to him, “I honestly had no idea. I thought you had all gone in search for more food and thought you were all returning here later.”

He hummed and released your body from its friendly proximity against your own, no longer holding a chastising aura on his features.

“I should probably add,” he said, turning on his heel to exit the guest suite, “Kaya has given us a ship.”

You quirked your head slightly with a wide smile coming to your features. Your hands hastily shooed Zoro from the room so you could change into your travelling gear. You collected several tools you were gifted by Klahadore, now to be revealed as Captain Kuro of the Black-Cat Pirates. As you held the multitool in your hand, you shut your eyes; wincing at the thought that as you repaired the clawed gloves, you were inevitably sealing the fate of your crew.

You breathed in slowly, placing the object into your tinkering pouch and returned to join with the Straw-Hat pirates to set sail into the blissful unknown. You welcomed your new companion, Usopp, onto the deck of the ship as he placed a tender kiss upon the lips of your former host, Ms Kaya. You smiled at their youthful innocence before your smile was dropped from your face as Zoro leant into your ear.

“This is what kissing someone that’s not an absolute psychopath looks like,” he taunted you, causing you to turn and slap your hand into his chest with a huff. You turned on your way to bring your rucksack aboard and seek out your new quarters. Once you found a vacant room, you placed the large bag atop a desk and began to meticulously sort through your items and neatly place them in correlating areas accordingly.

You began to reflect on the events as Zoro had described them, noting that the beverage you would have consumed may have been laced with poison. Your eyes glazed over as you pondered the many: “could have been’s” with your interactions between yourself and the unnerving Butler before your movements were halted at the sudden explosion of ignited cannon fire and the impact it had on your newly acquired vessel. You sprung to your feet and sprinted to the deck where your crew had gathered collectively together from their place in the mess hall.

What Zoro had failed to mention in his ramblings was the fact that there were Marines actively pursuing them. The surprise written on your face as you all but leapt up the steps to join yourself beside Nami as she called to you, revealing the identities of the attacking vessel.

“Marines! We’re under attack!” she shouted to the crew.

She made her way to her post at the stern, managing the steering wheel as Luffy pulled his brass spyglass to seek out the identity of the helmsman.

“Grandpa?” he questioned while knitting his brows together. You joined with the other three members of crew as you uttered: “Grandpa?” in unison.

After processing that momentary shock, you all collectively sprung into action as you un-coordinatingly began to ready yourselves for ship to ship combat. You were well out of your depth as ships appraisal specialist, not engaging readily in manned combat let alone ship wide combat.

Nami began shouting directions:

“Zoro, sheet in and hard to port!” she ordered, pulling the steering rigging to change momentum of the ship. Usopp and Luffy were scrambling to load cannonballs into the steel barrel while Zoro began to process the directions Nami gave him, confusion knitted his face.

Nami expertly corrected both Zoro and Usopp in their tasks as you remained halted in place watching as the dooming Marine ship began to gain on you.

The cannonballs clanged against the wooden hull of the ship, prompting you to jump slightly before springing into action to aid in their collection. You could not fight, but you could lift a multitude of items in your arms at once; very much accustomed to multitasking in mastering your craft.

The crew collectively hung their heads in shame at their own shortcomings: Zoro with unsuccessfully untying the sails, Luffy and Usopp at their inability to load cannons, you in your own inexperience at being a battle-ready tinkerer and Nami at her own idiocy at choosing to travel with this crew of misfits.

You heard strict orders barked from the marine vessel, requesting your swift surrender to which Luffy screamed out his defiance in response.

You all became gobsmacked at his swift inhale of air, ballooning himself and shooting back the incoming cannonball and destroying the top foremast and immobilising the Marine’s foremast sails in the process. Nami directed your vessel into the grey smog to flee from the sight, assuring the crew of the need to disappear from the sights of the crew.

Now, although you were an experienced seaworn traveller; you were yet in all your voyages to experience something as truly wonderful as the sights that lay before you. Although you had heard of its renowned cuisine as rumours of its travel were flooded from port to port, you breathed in an air of enthusiastic surprise as you took in the view of the floating restaurant: Baratie.

After successfully docking against the make-shift port, Luffy declared his intentions to disregard Nami’s suggestion of hiding the ship to halt the Marines from knowing your location and order everyone instead to go into the wide doors of Baratie with an enthusiastic: “let’s eat!”

You chuckled into your chest slightly as you trailed after your captain, your own enthusiasm brimming from your wide smile. You took in the illuminated lights of the restaurant before trailing your eyes on the patrons attending and noticing the wide variety of guests. Pirates, sailors, upper-class and some Marines had all held their displeasure for one another to engage in the service provided within the doors of the large vessel.

Completely taken with the fine craft etched into the foyer, you paused your entrance to the venue. You smiled through parted lips at the intricate silver pieces as Luffy and Usopp bartered with the host at their stand, prompting Nami to step forward with a bribe to be seated at a table. You brought your smile to meet with the playful expression Nami threw your way as you rose to follow her to the table.

You made your way to be seated, watching with a slight cringe as Luffy crawled along the crescent shaped plush booth seats surrounding your rotund table. You couldn’t help but to release a slight snicker at Zoro’s attempt to find a comfortable position for his swords to hang from his hips as he seated himself beside you.

You opened the matte-leather menu and began to sift through the variety of ingredients; taking in their descriptors with enthusiasm. It had been a while since you were graced with some variety in your cuisine, only recently enjoying the hospitality of Ms Kaya as an exception to pickled rations.

You rose the menu to showed your face, leaning in to the wide variation of a multitude of beverages on their drinks section. “Honey Badger Blitz, The King's Blues Tonic, Smirking Priest Gimlet, Lit Sailor’s Delight” to list a few of the hard-liquor forward cocktails before looking to the ales and wines on the page. You continued to read through it, ignoring the chatter surrounding you before the waiter made their way to your table and began their introduction.

“Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant,” he said with an arrogant sarcasm laced in his voice, “where the only thing worse than the ambiance is the food. My name is Sanji, what can I get for you?”

Your eyes halted their reading in surprise and bringing the leather menu from your features to gaze through knitted brows at the waiter in front of you.

“One of everything, please,” Luffy said, stuffing his face with a cloud-soft dinner rolls.

“Any drinks?” Sanji continued with the same annoyed and abrasive tone, “one of our signature cocktails to help you choke down your meal?”

You remained completely taken aback at his rude nature, gawking at his misrepresentation of all of the praise you heard Baratie was renown for as Nami scoffed: “giving us the hard sell, huh?”

You witnessed Sanji’s complete demeanour change at the voice of your orange-haired associate as he quirked his head to the side and offering a smirk.

“Apologies madam, I didn’t see you there. Would you care for an apéritif to start?” he flirted, “we have several rare Micqueot reserved vintages in stock.”

You turned your eyes to meet with Zoro’s as you felt a slight giddiness at the attention he was paying your crewman. Zoro clicked his tongue a little and quirking his head to the side.

“Or perhaps you would like a glass of Umeshu?” he paused before adding, “you know, something sweet for someone sweet,” with a subtle wink.

Nami slightly rose her upper lip in subtle disgust; “is something wrong with your eye?”

“Just blinded by your beauty,” he continued with that same smirk adorning his features and shaking his head subtly. You almost applauded his skilled flirtatious craft, being one of your own negotiation specialties. You almost in that moment felt like you slightly missed your calling, enjoying the playfulness he had brought in the direction of your friend.

Zoro coughed, bringing Sanji’s attention toward himself.

“Waiter, can I get a bear and,” he began in a bored tone while he cocked his neck to direct the waiters attention to the rest of the crew, “something for my friends?”

“-two beers, I normally have three, but-” Usopp added, as to one-up Zoro in his macho exterior.

“And a milk,” Luffy said raising his hand, gesturing upwards as a schoolboy would in a daunting classroom.

“Three beers, and a milk. And uh, for Madam?” he again smirked at Nami.

“Water,” she said with a disinterested blink.

“Still, sparkling, mineral? With ice or without, cubed or crushed?” he questioned her, not threatened by her indifference.

“Regular water in a regular glass,” she said slowly, narrowing her eyes ever so slightly, “please.”

“Right away,” he said in a sultry tone. You decided in that moment to produce your order to the waiter.

“I’ll take that Umeshu,” you said with a sideward smile, placing the menu on the table in front of you and leaning ever so slightly against the table. You knew from experience that receiving no reaction from a potential guest in your establishment was almost a fate worse than death. Your eyes challenged him, almost taunting with an unspoken: “I’m happy to play along.”

His eyes widened and his one slightly more visible eyebrow cocked upward with a small smirk.

“Three cubes of ice, and one of the slightly fermented plums, please,” you said, turning your attention back to the menu, smoothing your hands over the pages with a slight bounce of your shoulders. As you did not choose to engage in that stiff drink earlier due to the anxiety of the task you were undertaking, but you felt you could surely use that drink now.

Sanji smiled at you and nodded his head at your order before looking again to Nami and producing that before seen flirtatious smirk. He made his way back to the kitchen, prompting Zoro to commence with the endless teasing towards Nami. Usopp let out a drawn out, “ah” and smiled upwards at the orange-haired navigator. She rolled her eyes.

“What?” she said in an annoyed tone.

“Nothing,” Zoro shrugged, before adding, “madam.”

This prompted you to giggle at the comment. Both Usopp and Zoro continued their taunts and teases at Nami as she rolled her eyes and choked back a small scoff. You scrunched up your nose, noticing Luffy had too enjoyed in the laughter, but seemed to more confused at the scenario and laughing in nervousness rather than engaging in the taunts.

“You guys are the worst,” she smirked around the table.

After eating the most delectable variety of food and felt your stomach almost uncomfortably expand at the pure density of the items presented before you, you slouched back into the seat and raised the slightly sweet, slightly sour plum wine to your lips and savoured the last remnants over your tongue before swallowing. You hummed at the candy-like flavour as the sides of your cheeks puckered slightly. You closed your eyes in pure bliss before reaching for the pickled plum in your glass and promptly placing it into your mouth.

You expertly peeled the flesh of the small fruit away from the pit with your tongue and moved the soft fruit to one side of your mouth to remove the pit from between your teeth. You placed the pit within your empty glass and began to chew at the fruit, enjoying the tang it produced before swallowing.

Luffy raised his glass to toast to your victory against the Marines, which caused you to nearly choke on the fruit.

Nami began to argue with Luffy about the truthfulness of his toast, indicating our sheer luck in that situation. After reiterating her point, she then began to berate him for the lack of relay of his family of origin. Zoro and Nami began to bicker slightly, only halting at the return of the waiter, Sanji, as he placed the bill down on the table.

Luffy smiled in a thin line with a small curt nod before taking the itemised bill into his hands and signing his name.

“Thank you, my good man,” Luffy said with a smile as Sanji picked up the bill in a silver platter and turned it to face himself.

He looked at the menu, eyes widening in sheer glee at what Luffy had written before adding, “No, sir. Thank you.”

He had a small, unnerving laugh escape from between his lips before journeying back to you assume cash the receipt.

“Zoro, would you mind if I could just-?” you began as you gestured to remove yourself from the booth. In order to successfully exit, you would either require the swordsman to stand up from his reclining position, or unceremoniously climb over his lap to exit the booth. As a lady, you would prefer the former of the two options, waving your hands in a slight ‘shooing’ gesture as you wordlessly expressed your intentions.

With a small smirk, he rest his back against the seat behind him and gestured for you to ungracefully maneuver your way over him to escape from the table. He brought the brown beer bottle to his lips and had a challenging expression adorning his eyes as he did so. You breathed out at his stubbornness with a slight growl but didn’t shy away from his challenge. You hoisted up your skirts to reveal dark short pants beneath as you swung your legs over his in an unladylike manner.

“Where are you going?” Luffy asked you as he continued to gnaw at the fleshless tomahawk bone before placing another bread roll into his mouth.

“I need to walk all of that off. Stretch my legs a bit, you know,” you said with slight agitation at how difficult Zoro was truly making this for you. You planted your legs on the ground and kicked the swords attached to Zoro’s hips slightly as you did so.

“Did you want company?” Nami asked you, leaning up a little.

“I’m happy retiring alone,” you shrugged, “although I might try to find the bar a little later.”

Nami gave you a small smile as you bid them all a small temporary farewell before exiting the restaurant to set your sights into the open ocean. Baratie swayed ever so slightly against the stilled water alongside the docked ships attached to its makeshift port.

It was there where, for the first time in a small while, you felt completely alone. No uneasy feeling of being watched, no company with your crew, no beady eyes of a potentially deadly threat and absolutely no thoughts of the clown captain you locked lips with all those many days ago.

As soon as you had those thoughts pass over your mind, you immediately scolded yourself with a groan as you were brought back to those flooding emotions. This is why you intentionally did not want to be alone, you gently reminded yourself. You stretched your arms over the railing before hanging your head back to stare at the different constellations in the night sky.

“It was one kiss, woman,” you uttered to yourself, mentally hitting yourself at your thoughts, “get over it. Move on.”

You turned back around and began to walk along the deck of the promenade to rest your sights on the Baratie bar located in a very large, carved fish mouth. You noticed the bar was relatively quiet as many of the diners were in the middle of consuming their dinners; much as you were moments prior.

You approached the bar and moved to take a seat atop an empty stool, pulling it from beneath the varnished surface.

“Apologies, madam,” the bartender called to you while actively polishing glassware, “we’re at a limited menu currently as we prepare between services. All I can do, unfortunately, is offer ale, wine and rum neat.”

“That is absolutely fine by me, sir,” you smiled at the bartender, “I feel like rum might be on the agenda tonight.”

He returned your smile and placed a short and wide crystal glass in front of you and poured 90mls of the dark amber liquid in your glass. You nodded to him, extended a few berry and took the crystal between your hands.

As you nursed your drink at the bar, more patrons came flooding in after dinner service was concluded. You rose your glass to your lips and tasted the spiced, burning liquid to your lips before swallowing it, hissing slightly as it passed through your oesophagus to reach the pit of your full belly.

You turned to make visual contact with your crew, which you noticed was missing your young captain. You arched your brow as they approached the bar together, looking to Nami.

“Our Captain-?” you asked her.

“-Was a little short on change,” she concluded your sentence, “so he’s helping out in the kitchen to settle it.”

You nodded a little, creasing your brows before requesting another drink.

“I’ll take another rum, and something for my friends please,” you asked the bartended once retaking his attention.

“-Beer,” Zoro added monotonously.

“-Water,” Nami nodded curtly.

“-A Mermaid Tail Fizz Whizz,” Usopp called from beside you, prompting the three of you to turn to look at him with a hint of confusion at the request.

“What?” he asked, “I saw it on the menu, and as long as you’re buying, I’m trying!”

You laughed whole heartedly at his comment before turning towards the bartender to confirm your order with him.

“A beer, a water,” you started before adding, “and two Mermaid Tail Fizz Whizz’s please.”

“Right away, ma’am,” he said with a smile, accepting your berry and turning on his merry way to retrieve your drinks. You turned to your friends and clapped a hand on Usopp’s shoulder with a smile.

“Shall we go and find a seat before the tables are full?” you asked them, gesturing to a white glass illuminated table at the rightmost corner of the crescent-shaped lip of the open mouth of the fish head. Zoro nodded once to you and gestured for you to lead the way.

“Oh, such a gentleman,” you mocked playfully as you hopped down from your place atop the stool and proceeded to take a seat, “where was this energy earlier?”

He scoffed at you, but chose to remain silent as you took your seat. You then invited Nami to sit next to you and Usopp, while Zoro placed himself on a solo stool in front of you.

A member of the wait staff came and brought over your drinks, placing them on the lit table in front of you. You smiled at them as they returned to the bar.

You reached for both your and Usopp’s large drinking vessels, noticing the sheer volume of liquid you were about to consume. Your eyes widened slightly as you brought one of the wide bowls to Usopp, who’s eyes were equally as convex as your own.

“I think I may have made a mistake,” you uttered quietly, looking into the bowl of turquoise liquid. You looked to Usopp, making eye contact first before bringing your lips to the three straws. You placed all of them in your mouth and sipped lightly.

It tasted so incredibly sweet, like the boiled candies of your youth with finely beaded bubbles. As soon as you released the straws from between your lips after taking the first sip, you placed the bowl on the table before you with your brows knit together in thought.

“Pace yourself,” Zoro warned Usopp as he hastily drank the sweet, nectar-like drink.

“I don’t even think there’s liquor in here,” he said, gesturing down while laughing, “it tastes just like candy.”

“Last time I said that, I woke up face down under a table,” Zoro offered off-handedly.

“I have definitely made a mistake,” you uttered, leaving the bowl in front of you, “that’s dangerous, that is.”

“You seriously don’t think what Luffy did was messed up?” Nami said, breaking your conversation away from your drinks.

“Yeah, he should’ve told us,” Zoro said, “but in case you haven’t noticed, we’ve been making enemies everywhere we go.”

“Psycho clowns,” Zoro said, looking directly at you as he said it, prompting you to bring your eyes down to the contents in your bowl, “killer butlers. What’s a Vice-Admiral gonna do to us?”

“No, you don’t get it. I can’t get caught, not while I’m so close-,” Nami began, halting her words as to withhold her emotions slightly, before looking back into her waterglass. She regained her composure before suggesting, “uh, who’s ready for another drink. My treat this time.”

Zoro hummed, “my favourite kind of drink.”

“I think I’m done,” you said, also rising to your feet.

“With your drink or for the night?” Nami asked you, halting slightly.

“Both I think,” you said with a small shrug.

“You’re returning to the ship?” Usopp asked you, almost upset.

“I am,” you said, “need to sleep off that amount of food and finally repair that little mechanical watch for you, Nami. Now that I’ve got a bit of time, I figured I’d give it one final go before I throw the bloody thing into the ocean.”

Nami allowed a small chuckle to depart from her lips at your comment.

“At that, I’m off. I’ll see you in the morning,” you said before turning to Zoro, “and please, don’t do anything stupid. No engaging in combat while I’m sleeping.”

“No promises,” Zoro uttered before bringing his glass to his lips and taking a large gulp.

“Tell Luffy goodnight for me,” you said as you turned on your way with a slight wave to your crew.

You shook your head at his comment before retiring to your quarters on the ship, turning to take one more look at the true majesty of the floating restaurant. You felt the air shift slightly as the wind blew against The Going Merry’s retracted sails. You furrowed your brows at this before continuing on your way to welcome another blissful evening of working with your tools, sleeping soundly through the night and not dwelling any more on the thoughts on your clown Zoro mentioned earlier.

You halted your thoughts, pausing as you fully took them in.

“Fuck,” you uttered to yourself aloud in a slight groan, longing for the fates to bring you together once more.

Tag List:

@thesadvampire @a-phan-of-youtube @multifandombtch @plan3t-plut0 @tiredemomama @tfamidoingwithmylife @bimboshaggy @plan3t-plut0 @vixnicknacks

(I swear, prepare yourselves to be fully fed and watered later today 🫡).

Part 8

#one piece #opla #x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #one piece live action #captain buggy #opla fic #buggy

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its-time-to-write · 1 year ago

Text

i know now it’ll pass - ch. 1

still me here

You have to understand, working at Nelson Road isn’t what everyone thinks it is. It’s a job. You’re not best friends with Ms. Welton, you don’t share inside jokes with Coach Lasso, and not a single member of the team could pick you out from a crowd. You talked to Keeley Jones exactly one time when she stumbled upon your office, lost in a hunt for Roy.

And none of that is bad. It’s not a bad thing. What it is is good money and security to get your own one-bedroom flat as well as food on the table and whatever else you might need. You have a few friends there and your direct supervisor is nice and overall it’s a great environment. You’re not sure you could ask for anything more.

It’s just not as glamorous as people believe.

Your friends think it’s great that you work in the same building as AFC Richmond legends like Roy Kent and Dani Rojas. They bombard you with questions every girls’ night, which you indulge with a laugh.

As you sip your drink on the couch, surrounded by friends and giggles, you decide you live a pretty great life.

—

You don’t sleep well. You never have, and you’re concerned you never will. You’ve taken to sitting on your front steps with a blanket and a cup of tea in the hopes that it will cause your body to produce melatonin so you can get enough sleep to get through the day. Your “tea time” is usually anywhere from 2am-5am, and you’ve woken up many a morning curled up on the steps.

There are two good things that come out of tea time: the sunrise and your increased ability to cover up the bags under your eyes.

This Monday is different in that it’s worse. Much worse.

You’ve been on the porch for three goddamn hours, since 1am, and nothing is helping. You’re so tired that your eyes feel like little weights, and yet you can’t fall asleep.

You’re leaning against a support beam with the realization that your work day is going to suck, when you see Jamie run by in the street. He doesn’t see you, what with it being 4:15am and all. Roy jogs by a few minutes later. You wince. You can tell his knee’s killing him by the way he’s running. He’ll probably take it out on the lads at training, and you find strange comfort in the knowledge that you’re not the only one who will be suffering at Nelson Road.

—

Oh god, you’re going to die. This is it, this is the end, death is imminent and you’re going to let the Grim Reaper snatch you with his scythe or whatever the hell he does with that thing.

See, Mondays are when you get all your steps in because you’re walking all up and down Nelson Road collecting signatures and passing around documents. It’s usually pretty nice and culminates in a stop at Higgins’ office, who will offer you whatever candy he has at his desk or sometimes a cup of tea.

(He has a knack for offering the tea when you’re especially tired. You’re not sure how he can tell, but chalk it up to the plethora of sons he has.)

Anyway, this Monday you’re on your way to meet Higgins with a bundle of papers in your arms and you must have blacked out ever so slightly because you rammed straight into the team coming in from the pitch for lunch.

Documents are flying and you’re wobbly on your feet and now there’s like twenty beefy footballers helping you scramble to pick everything up while you say, “Sorry, sorry,” on repeat.

“Not a problem, love,” says Jamie Tartt, handing you the completed stack. It’s a little wrinkled and haphazard, but all you can think about is the fact that you revealed yourself to be a klutz to the whole team.

Girls’ night is about to get embarrassing. Especially because Jamie’s hand brushed yours for a millisecond and it caused literal sparks to shoot up your arm.

You’re frozen as they walk away, silently cursing your stupid screwed up sleep patterns. You had better get some sleep tonight.

—

You don’t. Your mind keeps replaying that touch like you’re a middle school girl who’s just discovered boys don’t have cooties. You wrestle a few hours in between 11 and 3, but find yourself on the steps again by 4, definitely not hoping Jamie runs by again.

He doesn’t.

—

Tuesday is not worse, but it’s not better. You’re eating lunch at your desk because you’ve decided never to leave it again, but unfortunately Jim in HR needs a signature and you’re the one who has to get up so he can collect it. You sigh and close your laptop.

You’re padding to the other side of the building and congratulating yourself on the decision to wear flats today when you turn a corner and smack into something solid.

You stumble back but catch yourself before you hit the ground.

“God, I’m so sorry,” you say to Jamie Tartt’s blue eyes.

He half-grins. “Little wobbly there, innit?” he says before he’s gone.

Rats.

—

Tuesday night means you’re awake due to sheer humiliation. It’s bad enough that your celebrity crush is now Jamie Tartt, but the fact that you’ve literally talked to him twice and both times have been because you weren’t watching where you were going?

You have half a mind to email in your resignation, but as you put the kettle on for 3am tea you realize you need the stability Nelson Road provides. You’re not sure you can go back to living with three other flatmates.

Your only consolation is that there’s no way Jamie Tartt knows who you are or that his damn blue eyes are seared into your brain.

You’ve snatched five hours of sleep this time, and you’re hoping you’ll be asleep again before the sunrise, but the odds are not looking good. It’s Wednesday, and you’re going to need all the help you can get in order to make it through the longest day of the week.

Jamie runs by again. Roy notices you under the porch light and gives a two-finger salute as he hobbles by. You raise your cup in return, grateful that he at least will have no idea who you are, much less that you work in the same building.

—

Wednesday is fine except you’re exhausted, and Laughing Liam’s goddamn laugh is making your head pound. You set a timer and fall asleep on your lunch break.

—

You take a breath. Then another. And another. Deep breaths, you remind yourself. It’s not that big of a deal.

You skipped the porch in favor of staying in bed, with the hopes that maybe a softer environment would be more conducive for sleep. It wasn’t, and the bags under your eyes are not good. They are so not good that you can’t completely cover them. You feel so awful that you forgo tea in favor of coffee, extra strong. You down it in three burning gulps and head out the door, ready to face Thursday.

—

It gives you a headache, but you’re awake. You’re trying to kill the dull, persistent pain with some water but it’s not helping. You rest your forehead on the community water jug for a moment as footsteps walk past you, slow down, then backtrack.

“Porch girl,” says Roy Kent, recognition in his voice.

You turn your head, still on the jug, and nod. Roy Kent nods back and grunts, “You’re up fucking early,” then keeps walking.

Ah shit.

—

Friday. It’s Friday. It’s Friday and you held off from sitting on the steps until exactly 2:37 at which point you felt that if you stayed in bed any longer, you would suffocate or go crazy. Maybe both.

You set down an empty cup of chamomile and pull your blanket closer as you inhale the crisp air. You feel something like sleep creeping up on you, so you close your eyes and finally succumb to the call.

You wake to someone shaking your shoulder and an urgent voice saying, “Oi, you dead? Can you hear me?”

You blink groggily, aware of the fact that you’ve just gotten maybe an hour of sleep and it isn’t going to be enough to get you through the day. Tears begin to slide down your face, unbidden, as you try to control your sheer frustration at being woken up.

“Oh shit,” says the voice, then Roy Kent says, “You fucking broke her,” and you think maybe you actually are still asleep and this is all a dream.

But it can’t be because the hand is still on your shoulder, and it’s warm and solid and there’s no way your subconscious would be so cruel as to have Jamie Tartt and Roy Kent find you passed out on your front steps.

Your subconscious wouldn’t be so cruel, but the universe apparently is.

You force your eyes open. Jamie and Roy look concerned.

“You alright?” Jamie asks. “Thought you were proper dead.”

“Jesus Christ,” Roy mutters, turning back to you. “Look, we’re sorry for waking you. We’ll get out of your fucking hair.”

You nod mutely as they turn and jog off. It’s not until they’re well out of sight that you realize they didn’t even ask your name.

Table of Contents

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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