#i was so right abt the stupid pants actually | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

agustdiv1ne · 1 year ago

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dom!tutor!yn x sub!stoner!cocky!beomgyu who doesn't even care abt college, only wants to get in yns pants

ada. you just kinda got a lil fic out of me with this one so i made it pretty n aesthetic (might have to make this an actual fic, like. a Long one bc this concept is doing smth to me....) honestly, this turned into more of a switch!beomgyu x femdom!reader thing so i apologize for that,, HOWEVER, he is submissive for most of this <3

wc: 1.8k

(MDNI!!!!!!! and please stop asking for a part 2)

beomgyu couldn’t give less of a shit about college. his parents are rich — they could buy his degree if he asked them to — so what the fuck is he doing? why is he not in his dorm right now getting high off his ass? why is he here, sitting in this musty study room in the library? for him, that’s easy to answer: it’s all because of you, the pretty thing that he’s roped into being his physics tutor.

you’re currently trying to explain a law made by some dude named ohm and all he can really think about is how nice your lips would look around his cock, how your pretty fingers that are playing with your pencil would press so perfectly into his thighs as he thrusts into your mouth, tears welling in your eyes as he uses you to his heart’s content. you’re a cute little thing, aren’t you? a bit quiet in class, kinda submissive as far as he can tell — and all he wants to do is bend you over this desk and fuck you ‘til you’re crying for him to stop.

with half-hazy eyes from the joint he snuck a couple huffs from before this study session started and a stupid smirk, he places a hand on your thigh and watches you pause, brows furrowing as he trails it up a bit higher and squeezes the soft flesh under the hem of your shorts. your nose scrunches up as you move your attention from your notebook to him. with a scalding glare, you hiss, “the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

woah. did that just come out of your mouth? for some reason, the words only make his shit-eating grin grow wider, and he squeezes your thigh again. “nothin’. something wrong, sweetheart?”

you stare at him for a moment, gaze cold and calculating, nothing like the wide-eyed look you wear on a normal basis. all he can think about is how fucked he is as soon as he feels you wrench his hand from your thigh and slam it onto the table. he yelps at the pain that radiates through his fingers, rubbing them as he looks at you like a wounded puppy. your lips purse. “i know your stupid game, beomgyu. either let me tutor you, or get the fuck out.”

“jesus,” he sighs, hands shooting up defensively. “fine, whatever. do your worst, i guess.”

beomgyu can’t deny the twitch in his cock at your cruel words. you’re more feisty than he thought; maybe he’d let you take the lead, if you even let him get in your pants in the first place. he was wrong, you seem like the type who’d want control. of course you did. you’ve never fallen at his feet like some of the other girls in your class, the ones who know he’s rich and good in bed and friends with the best plugs on this godforsaken campus. you’ve never wanted anything to do with him; your sore lack of interest just made him want you more, so to let you shut down his attempts to fuck you right here, right now? nah, not fucking happening.

so after a bit of actual studying to appease you, his hand sneaks onto your thigh once again—

oh, he’s hit the jackpot.

you’re standing up now, hand gripping his chin so hard that it hurts. the tick in your jaw is enough to indicate that he’s really pissed you off, a fire surging behind your irises as you glower down at him. he’s leaned back into his seat because you’ve leaned in so close, caging him in — and fuck, does he like it. he’s never had someone be so mean to him. they’ve always let him take the lead, let him use them, but you? you have different plans, it seems.

“what did i say?” your tone is sharp, dangerous. the air around him suffocates his lungs, yet he smiles. he likes this game.

“to let you tutor me, and i was, so what’s your problem?” he shrugs as if you don’t look like you’re about to incinerate him with your gaze right now. your head tilts as soon as you glance down at the hard-on in his lap, that unimpressed, calculating glint returning to your eyes. suddenly, you let him go, shoving him backwards into his seat as you resume your own. you look down at his lap again.

“y’know what? fine. i’ll make you a deal: i’m gonna jerk you off as you do this problem set. if you complete it, i’ll let you cum.”

oh. oh wow. did he hear that properly? you’re gonna jerk him off? he feels a little dizzy because honestly, this is just the first step to getting you to give in to him, to lose control and ride him until he’s a drooling mess for you, ‘cause god, you’d love to him like that, wouldn’t you? he can tell that you would. so—

he gives you another one of his trademark cocky smirks, and says, “yeah, sure. i’ll get it done in no time.”

and beomgyu tries. he tries so hard to focus, but he does not, in the end, get it done in no time. it’s been thirty minutes, and all he’s gotten done is two out of the ten problems that you’ve been assigned to complete by tomorrow. how can he with your hand stroking up and down his cock so slow that he wants to cry? whenever he stops working to try and thrust into your hand, gain any semblance of pleasure, you remove it. he can’t fucking win.

“do the problem,” you command, leaning against the desk with the most bored expression ever painted on your face, as if you’re not jerking him off beneath the desk right now. as if you don’t even want to be here. “you have an hour to finish these, y’know. i can’t stay here all night with your dumbass. i have better shit to do.”

his hips twitch up. fuck. fuck. he needs you to degrade him more. you sound so pretty doing it.

“c’mon,” he whines. “can’t you just let me cum? i’m never gonna get this shit in an hour.”

“sounds like a you problem.” and you go back to stroking him, thumb teasing the flushed red tip and spreading his precum all over, further lubricating your hand to make your movements smoother. he gets back to work, trying his best to ignore how fucking good it feels to be edged like this. to get so close, only for it to be torn away from him. by problem seven, he’s sniffling and whimpering for you to let him cum, “please let me cum. please? wanna fuck you so bad. wanna feel you pussy around me, fuck.”

all you do is give him a mean-spirited laugh. “you really think i’m gonna give in and let you fuck me? y’probably thought i was some submissive little bitch at first, didn’t you? well, you thought wrong — so either solve these fucking problems, or else i’m not letting you cum. and you’re sure as hell not getting to fuck me. you’re more stupid than i thought. how pathetic.”

he could cum right now, but he thinks you might kill him if he did. so he struggles through problem eight. and nine. and ten — and finally, finally he’s finished. finally, you start to pump him as fast you can, whispering mean little names in his ear, calling him a stupid little bitch for thinking you’d be that easy, a fucking idiot for even trying. twisting your wrist, you lean over with your other hand to squeeze his balls, manicured nails biting into the sensitive flesh and—

he spills all over your hand with a pathetic whine, his whimpers loud enough for you to slap a hand over his mouth and whispering to keep fucking quiet, or do you want to be caught? he doesn’t care though, it feels too good to let go after being tortured for so long, his cum spurting all over his shirt and jeans and all over your hand.

when he’s finally done, he feels you wipe your hand on his shirt, mumbling how disgusting he is as you grab some hand sanitizer, apply it, and start to pack up. wait, you’re leaving now? he doesn’t get to fuck you?

“where are you going?” he questions, watching as you slip your calculator into your bag, not even sparing a glance at his ruined state.

“home,” you bluntly reply. “like i said, there’s no way in hell i’m letting you fuck me. and i’m not tutoring you anymore. find someone else.”

okay, that’s enough to get him panicked. “what? but you’re the only one who agreed to do it!”

“you think i care? go to the professor, then.”

“wait,” he says. grabbing the sleeve of your jacket before you can walk out. you turn, judgment apparent in the way you scan over his cum-covered clothes. despite that, he pushes on, “aren’t you at least a little turned on? why don’t you let me help you?”

“as if,” you scoff, even though yes, you’re really fucking turned on and wanna ride him until he’s an overstimulated mess right now. you’ve never had a boy bow to you as easily as him, and you enjoyed it more than you’d like to admit, but at the same time, this is beomgyu you’re talking about. he’s terrible news, and wouldn’t be a good influence on your academics. you try to pull away and head towards the door. “i’m out of here.”

“liar,” he accuses, pulling you backwards. “you have to be a least a little turned on. c’mon, i know you want to fuck me, wanna see me all stupid for you. you seem like the type to like that.”

he’s stupid and cocky and infuriating, but he’s also right. you want to tie him up and use him for hours. you want to watch his pretty rich boy face twist up and turn red as he starts to sob and whine for you to stop. you want to see him brainless and pliant and willing to do anything you ask. staring at him, your mind feeds you scenarios of his fucked-out face, sweat rolling down his temple and mixing with his tears. with a deep breath, you wrench your wrist from his grip and fully turn towards him.

you’ve made your decision.

“fine,” you say. “i’ll make you another deal: get a 90 on the exam next week, and maybe i’ll let you.”

there’s no way he can do that, can he? it sounds impossible in his mind given his track record of 20s and a 15 percent on the last exam — but he finds himself nodding anyway. he has to do this, he's desperate enough.

“you have a deal.”

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt scenarios #beomgyu scenarios #txt imagines #beomgyu imagines #txt x you #txt x y/n #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu x you #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu hard thoughts #💌 — gyu #agust.nsfw #kinda went off i'm ngl.....

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chasedeys · 1 month ago

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do you write any rpf, like on Ao3? I’m new so idk if you’ve posted about it or not but IM LITERALLY OBSESSED with your answers to any anon ask. I would read a whole ten page essay from you about joemarr and im not joking. anyways, i love anything you post!!

hiiiiii loveeeee, thank you for liking my thoughts on joemarr!!! kind of self conscious abt it honestly bc im drawing up conclusions abt them technically without any basis but yeah 😭❤️ (also english is very much not my first language so i struggle to word things so saying you'd read a 10 page essay from me is very <33333)

i have written and posted 1 (one) fic and its a ja'marr gets nipple piercings fic lmaooo and opposite to the way it sounds it's not even horny or even tender horny its just like full of love and devotion ahaha no but really don't expect much please

some extra under the cut wkwkwk

SORRY BUT im taking advantage of this ask to add a whole unfinished 2k- jumble of another fic i was working on but probably won't finish bc the lack of full understanding of how contract and free agency works and like refusal to actually research shit bc i get stupid sad thinking about it so:

Joe stares down the stretch of the field, Ja’Marr standing by the rest of the receivers laughing as Chuck and Andrei try to playfully (....maybe) murder each other via sumo wrestling moves that are definitely not regulation. He’s just wearing tights today for bottoms–so the delicious tautness of his thighs are free for Joe to gaze hungrily at. Truck, 30 yards in front of him very patiently waiting to catch his warm-up throws, has cleared his throat three times in the past 45 minutes for Joe to tear his eyes away from Ja’Marr Chase and throw the damn ball.

It’s torture. It’s love, devotion.

It’s disgusting levels of Down Bad.

(joe gets introspective throughout practice post ravens lost yada yada they go back home, joe invites jamarr for sudden cheat day meal at like 2 am)

Ja’Marr shows up in his front door bleary eyed and sleep rumpled. He’s decked in thick flannel pajama pants that absolutely do not look cheap, dark grey geaux tigers hoodie with purple LSU letters that clashes with the red of his pants, last season’s bengals beanie that also clashes with the rest of his outfit colors, and gucci slides…that also clash with the rest of the outfit. It’s a mismatched sort of vulnerability that twists up Joe’s insides. Here’s his north star wrapped up in all the things Joe cherishes.

Ja’Marr turns up his nose when he finally finishes yawning right at Joe’s face and notices Joe with his raised eyebrow looking up and down amusedly at his outfit.

“Shut up,” he says. “It’s a 2 am non-party night. Like hell I’m dressing up pretty for you.”

Ja’Marr’s always pretty to Joe, but that’s fine.

“I didn’t say anything.” Joe replies back, moving to the side so Ja’Marr can drag his feet inside the threshold, “I don’t judge you for your fashion taste.”

Joe cleverly dodges the foot being kicked back to his side. Amazing reflexes, of course.

“Where’s this hearty meal you promised me?” Ja’Marr just talks loudly over the dig Joe makes at him.

“On its way. DoorDash says it’s 7 minutes out.”

“Did you get extra cream soup?”

“Yeah, of course.”

(yada yada some banter some cute shit wanted to describe them sitting in joes billion dollar custom renovated kitchen that i would stress out is 'modern and kitschy' with different shades of pink for accents)

He’s been making insane catch-and-runs, Joe reflects. Offers to his agent would be stacking up starting next year, his last year in his contract with Cincinnati.

“It would be easier.” Joe says, throat cramping. “If you want to trade.”

Ja’Marr’s hands stutter and his stupid little butter knife clatters to the table.

“What?”

Joe darts his eyes to the other man, a millisecond glance and he’s gazing back to his ice cream. The receiver’s voice had been harsh, choked up in surprise. Joe feels his insides curdle even worse.

“Just–” he starts, a mess of thoughts jumbled in his head, “if you wanted to. I would understand. Your stats are amazing. If Duke’s still gunning to be an idiot and wait for your contract to dry up before resigning, you can–”

Here he pauses. Saying things makes it real. Saying they’re not a championship level team made him want to gouge his eyes out. Saying how Ja’Marr could leave him would possibly end his life as he knows it.

But Ja’Marr deserves to know Joe won’t hold him back. He refuses to. So:

“If you want, you can sign up for free agency. Next season.”

Well.

Ja’Marr’s face is heartbreaking to see. Joe feels the corner of his mouth drag down, his eyes are fucking burning, his throat is closing up, his hands are clammy, his ears are ringing, his neck is cold but his head is on fire.

“Do you–” Ja’Marr starts, but his voice is cracking, so he has to start over again. He’s scrunching his eyes shut and his mouth is quivering and Joe feels like he’s clumped up dirt under a needlessly expensive boot.

Twice this season now he’s caused Ja’Marr to look like this. At least this time he’s not pushing him physically, but with the way Ja’Marr’s trembling all over this might just be worse. God, Joe can’t even blame being in Kansas City for this. This time, Ja’Marr isn’t hiding from the thousands of eyes scrutinizing him from the bleachers, from across the field, from the houses of unknown fans through LED screens. The agony is clear in the widening of his eyes and the curl of his mouth and the crack of his voice.

“Do you not want me?”

Just the barest whisper like Ja’Marr’s vocal cords has up and left. Joe feels insane thinking of the heart-clenching anymore? Ja’Marr doesnt say.

Joe’s mouth falls open but no sound comes out. There isn’t a single universe in the hypothetical collection of potentially diverse multiverses Joe believes in, that a Joe Burrow wouldn’t want Ja’Marr Chase to stay by his side. But would saying this to the other be right?

He takes too long to answer. Ja’Marr’s face shuts down, going cold.

“Wow, okay, fuck you.”

Joe flinches back at the viciousness of the curse. He has never once in his life been the direct recipient of Ja’Marr’s brand of tiger claws defense, teeth sharp, no mercy.

“I cannot believe you. I thought we were fine now! We’re on the same page again! I leave that contract bullshit behind, you fixed your anxiety over your wrist, but, what, another fucking shitty pick and you don’t think I got it anymore? Fucking free agency, shut your stupid fucking mouth, Joe Burrow, before I do something I regret.”

Joe’s hands automatically flashes to settle the plates rattling when Ja’Marr abruptly stands up and slams his hands to the table. He’s looking up at him now, still sitting down on the bright pink stool in his billion dollar kitschy kitchen with Ja’Marr Chase looming over him in fury.

“I followed you here! To fucking Ohio. I hated the idea of even stepping foot in this state before I fell in love with this fucking city! I did it because of you! I have said multiple fucking times that I’m not leaving you. I said to the fucking media that you were like a god to me, are you fucking kidding me? I bullshitted my way through all those disgusting interviews trying not to say the wrong thing and still having people say I’m stalking you or some shit because I can’t help word-vomitting over you! I have been this fucking close–”

Ja’Marr shoots his right hand up right in the space between them, pressing his thumb and pointer finger so close the skin whitens.

“–to saying to fucking Hobs that I’m ass over tits in love with you! And now you’re telling me it’ll be alright if I leave? That it'll be easier? Just because, what, this stingy ass poverty franchise doesn’t know how to handle its players unless they’re you? That we keep losing even when you throw fucking bullets and I run across the entire fucking field from endzone to the endzone for 60 points? Joe Lee Burrow, I swear if I loved you less I would kill you.”

Ja’Marr finishes his rant with another slam on the table like he needs one more outlet for his anger. He’s heaving breaths, tears running down his cheeks (god, no), face all twisted up. Through Joe’s frozen state, he could see Ja’Marr’s face pale rapidly as he fully realizes what he’s said. Mouth always running a full minute over his brain.

God.

Joe stands wobbly quick when Ja’Marr stumbles around the table towards the kitchen doors.

For all that Joe unashamedly lies over how fast he is–(’i am fast, ja’marr. I can outrun you.’ ‘be so for real right now.’)–he can never outpace Ja’Marr. But for this one thing–this one thing–Joe slams against a blurring Ja’Marr and uses the momentum and extra inches and pounds he’s got over the man to cage him against the nearby fridge.

Ja’Marr yelps as his back rattles against the fridge doors, magnets and receipts and photos and post-it notes not trapped between him and the door fall to the floor. One of those brightly colored humanoid magnets slam against Joe’s left toe. A polaroid of Joe and his Mom somehow balances perfectly right on top of Ja’Marr’s head before fluttering away when Ja’Marr shakes his head in furious disbelief. His beanie had fumbled off his head in the initial tackle, lying on the ground right next to Joe’s right foot.

Joe’s left hand is pinning his man’s right shoulder against the fridge door, hips flushed against him, a leg between his thighs, right arm tucked against the side of Ja’Marr’s waist, face right up against each other like every other overly enthusiastic helmet slam in the field after a ridiculous yard run–but there’s no helmet this time, and there’s no reason for Joe to hide how his eyes slide down the length of Ja’Marr’s face to his lips, letting his gaze linger deliberately long.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Ja’Marr blusters, cheeks going deep red, eyes pinballing widely over Joe’s own features (to his lips even! how exciting.), hands curling on each of Joe’s elbows with his nails biting down through the thick fabric of his sweatshirt over his skin. “What, are you going to hit me? Break my heart? You already did, asswipe, no need to be an annoying overachiever this time! Get off of me, I swear–”

“I don’t want you to go. I never want you to leave. Ever.” Joe cuts him off brutally. Let this be the firmest truth he’s ever said in his life. “I asked you to come here. I always want to play football with you. I always want random midnight DoorDash dinners with you. You keep saying insane shit about me in interviews, have you heard me talk about you? The last KC presser I had to hold back saying I hurt you in front of 50 people sitting down with their laptops open looking at me like I’m a bug to study. I have never been normal about you. You drive me insane, stop staring at me with those cow eyes. Who the fuck lies about dressing their friends up in magazine interviews? And that fucking photoshoot! Were you planning on killing me? Tee sends me your Instagram training pics from back in May like once a week to torture me! I nearly blocked his ass, Ja’Marr, shut up.”

(like. i want the speech to be more?? idk more emotional in the confessional aspect but alas i don't know how to write shit out)

Ja’Marr looks back at him wide-eyed. He hasn’t really said anything throughout Joe’s turn of ranting, but even so Joe needs him to shut up, genuinely. This beautiful, beautiful man doesn’t know Joe loves him. Stupid. Stupid.

“Ja’Marr.” Joe says, low and hoarse. He slides his hands up to cup at his cheeks now that Ja’Marr isn’t pushing his weight back at him. The wetness of his cheeks from his previous tears seeps into Joe’s skin. “I love you.”

“Oh, wow.” Ja’Marr just says back, hoarse and dumb. This man, Joe swears.

Whatever.

Joe kisses him hard and gets dizzy with it. Ja’Marr chokes in surprise, but gets with the program quick enough.

The side of his nose presses against Ja’Marr’s, he’s biting at his bottom lips, his lashes brush against the cold wetness of his cheeks, his hands press hard against the side of Ja’Marr’s neck and he feels like he can count each heartbeat against the tender skin of his wrists pasted to Ja’Marr’s jugular.

“Hi,” he murmurs over his man’s lips, heart feeling so fucking full.

Ja’Marr laughs against his lips incredulously, eyes screwed shut and lips stretched stupid wide. The prettiest thing Joe’s ever seen in his life. Insanely, he feels that if he were to play all 12 games of the season left this morning right after separating himself from Ja’Marr, he’d throw over 300 yards each. Things love could fuel you to do–winning a championship of a sport he’s thrown his entire heart in, with a man who’s gripped it tight since he knew how to throw it to him too.

“Dumbass,” Ja’Marr murmurs back, nudging his nose to Joe’s for the softest nose kiss Joe has ever experienced, “hi to you too.”

ok bye

#ask #joemarr #twice I've written joe slamming jamarr against walls and wall adjacent how exciting #anyway u didn't expect this i know lol but i have to get it out somehow and i was never going to really finish it so i took advatange sorry #thank u for asking!!!!!! hearts <3 #nfl rpf #my writing #you can probably see how biased i am writing these but oh well #do i tag their names or

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healer-pop · 7 months ago

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U know what I been thinking abt.....an aphrodisiac fic. I've got it all written out in my head, reader and Sloane are out camping. They are having a good day, set up camp and while gathering wood reader gets poofed in the face by a flower (sporess ooo). Sloane laughs their ass off, and reader is a little peeved getting spores all over themself.

Fast forward, dinner is being cooked and reader starts to feel weird. Hot, high, and really bothered!! They go into the tent to hide, and Sloane knocks on it saying dinners ready. Reader never comes out tho and Sloane goes in to see them sweating, hot and almost sick looking. Sloane tries to tend to them, a wet rag and asking what's wrong are they sick?? The second Sloane touches reader tho...they mewl. Almost a whine that creeps out of the back of their throat. Super sexy sounding. Sloane chooses to ignore it because they think reader is sick... it's just them being sick.. yes obviously.

Maybe Sloane helps them sit up to drink some water and the touch has reader grasping onto their leg HARD. Readers panting like a dog and got them bedroom eyes...

Was toying with the idea of Sloane and reader being best friends everrr with some huge unresolved romantic feelings. This is just the dam that breaks it all open. Obv all consent is given and gotten, and I think it was actually well talked out. Reader reassures Sloane they've wanted this for so long, but if they said no that they could forget it ever happened. I'm crazy insane I'm shaking the bars of my cage.

Googling, “can I sue the anon that wrote the hottest, absolutely most well thought out, mentally damaging fic in my inbox for emotional reparation?”

LIKE HOW DO U DROP THIS AND NOT EXPECT ME TO FROTH AT THE MOUTH???? Anon, I don’t know how you knew that sex pollen fics have always been my favorite but I do blame you for the fact that this kept me up last night!!!! mainly because this is so spot on and also why I don’t really get together fix with Venture, especially with my flowery writing, lengthy ass. That shit would be like 20K before you guys even touched. To me, Sloane is not the one to make a first move. And if you aren’t either, it’s just never gonna happen. Once you’ve actually gotten established, they’re super touchy and able to respect your boundaries, but before? They are wayyyyy too nervous, their biggest one being that they’re just overthinking your interactions with them and they don’t want to mess anything up. Unless you directly say, “I like you and want to date you,” it’s gonna go over their head.

And that would work perfectly for this fic, it would be such a desperate, hot sloppy mess for the both of you: With Sloane, trying to preserve your friendship and not mess this up despite their desire for you, how much this is actually you and how much of this is just the pollen and desperation. And you pleading with them, trying to get across that no, you have wanted this for so damn long and it sucks that it took some stupid horny flower to make you say it, but please, for the love of AURORA, Sloane, TOUCH ME. God I could imagine how red their face would be. They would keep checking in with you to make sure they’re doing it right for you, whether they’re sliding their fingers in your cunt or sucking on your tits!!! You’re almost tempted to go and grab that damn flower and shove it in their face so they can loosen up, but… the way they take care of you, trying every single position to quell your burning arousal…. so loving and tender… it’s honestly what you crave more. They have you on your knees, thrusting back onto their fingers as they encourage you, their beaded bracelets click with every motion, their hand on the small of your back, kneading your ass. On their sleeping bag, legs wrapped around their shoulders, eating you out like you’re as yummy as those s’mores they had earlier, telling you to wet their sleeping bag, they’ll just cuddle naked with you in yours while you put that one out to dry. And yes…. you CAN fall asleep with their strap in you, if it feels good. You can wake up at any time and fuck yourself on it. Sloane will be awake in an instant, helping you roll your hips back, digging into them because god, this has only been a dream. Feeling your flesh in their hands, being able to touch and hold and clench. Might keep a mental track of how many times you’ve cum. You know. For posterity.

And after you’ve been fucked through it? When you wake up with the worst bed head you’ve ever had, covered in sweat and bruises, naked and pressed against Sloane in your sleeping bag? Sloane will kiss your lips shut, guide you back down, and show you the most loving, intimate sex, you’ve ever had. You’ll feel like you have never connected with a partner more than you have right now. Whispers of love from Sloane, complementing how pretty you are, how perfect, how you were made for them, how good you are to them, how they want to see you every day of their life. Completely overwhelming, yet so needed, especially how you were held so helpless to your own lust. They make sure you know that they aren’t leaving. They’ll be here by your side through anything.

#𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ messages from the red string of fate #WAHHHHHH HOW DID THIS GET SO LONGGGGG #🌸 my aphrodite anon

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lovelykil · 10 months ago

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CAN U DO REVERSE COMFORT WITH KILLUA

IDC WHAT ITS ABT BUT JUST MAKE IT REVERSE COMFORT PLEASE POOKIE😞🙏🏻

chocolates—

: ➛killua

note; my brain has put itself on hold for like a week 🙁🙁 but anyway ofc pookie

my back leans against the cold wall with my knees tucked to my chest, I sit still like a pouting child. Except I'm not pouting. I sniffle, my glossy eyes staring at the carpet. This same overwhelming feeling of anxiety washes over me as the pathetic tears swell my eyes.

was this my fault? was I the cause of this break up? will.. she come back?

"shit,," I breathe out as I wipe away these droplets of vulnerability. The more I think about it the more I want to cry. It's all so stupid but—

"y/n." I nearly jump at the voice from beside me, I was so lost in my thoughts I must've forgotten I wasn't alone in this bedroom.. that wasn't even mine.

"h-huh?" I turn my head toward the voice, eyes wide and watery as I stare off guard like. It was him, he was still in his sleeping wear; comfortable baggy sweats with a black loose t-shirt. He looked wearily, his blue eyes low and dark as his hair was quite in a mess, not entirely but some stains stuck out. It kinda went with his whole layered haircut he recent got though.

"you shouldn't cry over her you know, I kinda saw this coming to be honest." killua said, his voice hushed in the dark space before he looked away. He sat with his legs infront of him, knees toward the ceiling as he arms rested on them. I remained looking at him, letting his words sink in. My eyes dart away for a moment as I look away shortly.

"you did?"

"yeah." I sit in silence with him trying to wrap my head around all of this, my legs grow minds of their own as they fall to the ground slowly. I mess with my finger tips, speaking again.

"how so? Was this my fault?" I whisper. I feel weak as I mutter the question, my stomach twists with horrible sensations that make me queasy, I almost don't want him to answer, afraid I might be correct.

I am a terrible friend.

"are you kidding me? No. I didn't want to say anything or else we would've had a fight and honestly I wasn't in the mood for that but, she was a total bitch." Judging by the tone of his voice, he was being sincere. He was harsh as he explained,, suddenly that weird feeling went away and I felt.. relived?

"well that's not nice.." I chuckle lightly, sniffling in the moment. I hear him scoff 'tch.' He goes as his legs fall just like mine. He looks over at me as I do the same. Our eyes meet.

"she gave me such a headache, god I hate your friends."

"killua.." I make a face, my eyes still glossy red from the crying. I fold my arms slowly stating at him. He looks at me like he's done nothing wrong, even smirking with those tired eyes of his.

"it's true–"

"I still really cared about her though, we've been friends for so long kil.. it kinda hurts." My arms unfold to mess with the string of my pj pants I wore. Silence filled the air, it felt like a long one.. it felt like he was conflicted on what to say next.

maybe he understood? Maybe he didn't. I had no clue in that moment. It wasn't until I heard him softly sigh and saw him stand up I realized he didn't understand. He left the room and abandoned me in this empty bedroom for a few minutes.

to be honest I felt a little offended, even sulking till he returned back. What the hell did he leave for??

I saw him close his door with something in his hand, he walked himself back to me and sat down— this time a little closer than before.

curious and a little mad, I gazed over at the silverette to see what he was holding. It was..

"chocolate, here."

"huh?" He placed the chocolate— actually it was his chocolate robots right on my lap as I squinted to see it clearly. My eyes grew as I picked up the treat, my mouth hung open slightly in shock.

"your chocolate robots? But you never—"

"just shut up and take it before I change mind.." He opened his robot, making it very clear to just shut the hell up and take it. In which I did, quickly! A confused but warm smile tugged my lips as I opened the treat.

I could feel his eyes land on me as I happily ate the chocolates, he only stared for a bit before he looked away. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him smiling to himself looking at the robot container.

he was either really happy about the chocolate or me. If I was to guess it was probably the chocolate.. either way he still looked adorable when he smiled. I felt a little better now.

"hey, it's okay to be torn about her.. you'll eventually get over it. Though you shouldn't because she sucks but you get it.. I kinda hate seeing you act so sad. Your smile is way better anyway." my sweet, unaffectionate, idiotic boyfriend spoke with sincerity, he chews on his chocolate momentarily after speaking such kind words to me.

I look at him, stunned for words. "killua—"

"don't ruin the moment.. just shhh." He says, pressing a finger to my lips. I cross my eyes to look at his finger then look back at him as I nod. He removes his finger about to open his mouth wide to pour in more chocolate but I interrupt with a grin.

"oh killua you're so cute you know? Thanks sweetheart." I tease, leaning in to peck his cheek. Once I do I sit back down and lean my head on him to savor this moment.

this time I smile to myself, thinking about his face right now.

at this point my tears were all dried up, and the feeling of anxiety was replaced with a warm fuzzy one from this hunter. He takes a second to respond to which I snicker lightly once he does.

"your... your welcome."

#𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙮𝙠𝙞𝙡⋆ ★#killua x reader #killua #hunter x hunter #hxh x reader #:33

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thelunarbar · 5 months ago

Text

I hate Kate with every fiber of my being 🤮

I’m sorry would firing off a weapon at random in the middle of the not being the police?

Turns out I don’t remember this real well so that’s interesting

I appreciate that Chris is at least semi sensible even if he is actively trying to kill Derek and Scott

The cgi or whatever on Derek’s not normal bullet wound is so bad 😂

Oh yeah grabbing her hand and defensively yelling no is so subtle

Ooh caught in a lie. Shoulda got their story straight before Allison woke up. Tsk tsk

Scott knows nothing. Typical.

“Studying with Allison” yeah right

Dylan O’Brien has pretty eyes

I wanna punch Jackson

Derek (literally dying) goes totally unnoticed in a highschool are there no teachers or curious students??? Are they all that self involved???

Also Derek (still literally dying) gets jump scared by the bell love it

How did stiles not see Derek at some point while he was in the hallway?

And then Derek collapses in the parking and still no one notices him

“A silver bullet?”

“No you idiot.” Even dying Derek is not putting with stiles shit

Derek (literally dying) (going to help Scott even tho he has absolutely no reason to) needs Scott’s help

Scott grudgingly agrees to help the dying man what a saint

And then promptly gets distracted by Allison shocker

Ik Scott is like what 15 here but c’mon man someone is literally dying and counting on you to save him and all you can think about is getting in Allison’s pants

Oh good more cringey make outs. These are supposed to be teenagers I do not want to watch them make out 🤮

Am I old? I feel like that makes me sound like an old lady but it’s true

I love that somehow while still in town it looks like they’re almost to Derek’s house which is deep in the woods? Yes yes that tracks

“In fact I think if I wanted to I could drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead.”

“Start the car or I’m gonna rip your throat out with my teeth.” Yes threatening the guy trying to keep you alive is great.

Fuck Scott. Honestly. They’re are more important things in life than getting your dick wet

Archery how quirky

Ik it’s like a family thing but still

Cock block chris love it

Ooh awkward family dinner with the gfs family always fun sucker

Why do parent in tv shows offer teenagers alcohol as like a test??? So dumb

“Hockey on grass is called field hockey.” 😂

Poor stiles and poor Derek

“He’s starting to smell.”

“Like what?”

“Like death!”

Yeah let Derek die bc you’d rather not leave your gf. Can we say hero 🙄

Fortunately the bullet he’s looking just happens to be in a special box bc ofc and I get for plot reasons but still

Derek never loses his drama even when dying

I’m with stiles on the whole cutting off Derek’s arm

Love that this whole thing literally couldn’t not matter less to Scott 🙄

I read a couple great fics abt stiles actually cutting off Derek’s arm bc Scott was late that I still think about to this day. I reread them quite a bit

I hate Kate so fucking much even tho he did actually take smth from her

Allison whipping out that condom is probably her best moment ngl 😂

“You faint at the sight of blood?”

“No but I might at the sight of chopped off arm!”

I am so with stiles on this whole cutting off body parts thing

Derek’s Batman voice is really funny to me.

I get why the first idea is to stick your fingers through the grate but I’m pretty sure those things pop out at least generally speaking

Love that stiles punched Derek in the face. Pretty sure he nearly does it again later on in the show

Where did Derek get the lighter? Did he just have that on him? Also so did not wanna watch him stick his finger in his wound gross

Ah teenage stupidity. Gotta hate it.

Ohhhh we finally met Peter! I don’t like him for obvious reasons but later on he’s so sassy and it’s hard not to like him

Knowing what the argents did makes me hate Kate even more and love that Chris broke free of that.

Ofc Scott would defend the argents 🙄 again teenage stupidity

Poor Derek he deserved better

How was there still a lil shard of glass from Kate’s broken window on the edge of the car door??? That seems unlikely

I appreciate that Chris at least had some standards even they still sucked.

Kate throwing the match into the fireplace was sooooooo foreshadowing at the truth to be learned down the road and I do like that

#teen wolf #teen wolf rewatch #stiles stilinski #derek hale #anti scott mccall #chris argent #ep four of season one

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toecrust69 · 2 years ago

Note

I love the Batsis that’s obsessed with cat woman, can we see how she Interacts with Selina in person?

A/N: OMG IM LITERALLY SO GLAD U ASKED. Also, sorry if this took a long time to answer!!

Oh and ur like 13 or 12 in this and Bruce and Selina are in a relationship (sorry if this was a stupid thing to metion)

I feel like it definitely depends on the situation, yk?

By that I mean whether or not batsis knows about Selina being Catwoman

If she doesn't know about it, she'll definitely fangirl about it to her

Since nobody else in the manor wants to talk about it, she's your last resort

It doesn't make her uncomfortable tho, she actually finds it kinda amusing

Can you imagine your boyfriends daughter fangiling about how hot, badass, cool, and iconic you are without even knowing they're fangirling over you?

She'd listen closely to every word you say, pride swelling up in her chest

"She's so cool! I'm honestly kinda jealous of Batman." She smirked and looked over her shoulder at you before responding.

"Really? How so?" She asked curiously.

"I dunno man, I think it's the fact that he gets to hang out with her everyday. If I ever see batman I'm gonna ask him for her number."

"Hang on, how old are you? And how do you know Bruce won't blow up?" You stopped chewing on your cereal for a second, thinking about what you'd say next

"First of all, Bruce should be proud of me! I just got the phone number of one of the hottest and most iconic people to ever live. If he doesn't feel proud or at the very least jealous, I don't know how he'd feel" you shrugged mindlessly

"Ok, but how old are you?"

"... old enough"

Your definitely her favorite, but she'll never admit it

About the body pillow...

She'd probably buy you more just to piss off Bruce (he had no idea you bought it)

She'd also buy you a bunch of merchandise of her

This includes shirts, shoes, pants, hats, pillows, underwear, glasses, posters, socks, etc.

Are you sad?? Don't worry, she has a catwoman mug in her purse custom made just for you :))

On the other hand, if you already know who she is, it's gonna be a bit of a mess

You'd definitely figure it out after fangirling about her for almost 6 months

You'd feel a bit embarrassed for a second before quickly recovering and going back to normal (for the most part)

To say the least, you'd constantly try to get her number or at the very least flirt with her

You know those tiktoks talking abt poetic rizz? Just imagine that if they were brought to life and now it's you

You'd follow her around the halls of the manor and batcave while reading out one of the latest poems you either read or made just for her

She ends up having to stiffle a laughe whenever your reading it to her and Bruce comes in with a huge frown on his face

He'd tell you to stop only for you to continue shortly after he leaves the room

" I would rather swim in a stormy sea than sail calm waters without yo-" you were quickly interrupted when Bruce came busting through the door with a huge frown on his face

"Stop it! She's almost 20 years older than you, leave her alone"

"Oh my bad, I'll stop" you answered dryly

"Good" He said sternly before walking out the room, leaving you and Selina alone. You turned around to look at her with a cocktail smirk, "I think he's jealous I'm trying to steal his girl and it's actually working ;)"

Yea no Bruce absolutely hates it

He doesn't like the fact that her daughter is getting more attention from his gf than him😭😭

But he knows that she'd never leave him for a 13 year old girl with amazing rizz like you, right?

... right?

Every time she comes back from a mission without you, you'd ask he about it

You'll listen intently to every word she says, making tiny comments every now and then

Once you turn 18, you'd rent an apartment and let her know so she can visit whenever she wants (yea ur still obsessed with her)

One time, you ended up not going on patrol for a whole week because you were sickand she came to visit you with chicken soup in her hands

You thanked her profusely and kept on offering her some stuff like water or food but she always declined

She was your guest after all

Am iconic one at that

She'd watch movies with you for a while before eventually forcing you to sleep

Then next day she'd invite you to go rob some jewelry stores with her, ivy, and harley

Speaking of ivy and harley

they absolutely adore you!!

Ivy never fails to notice how all the plants around you seem to lean into you when you walk past them

Your like a magnet and she seems to have gotten stuck onto you as well

I REALLY HOPE THAT MADE SENSE😭😭

Harley also can't help but notice the way her hyenas cuddle up to your legs whenever you come over to her apartment

She'd smile softly from the kitchen as she watched you play around with Bud and Lou

Oh and Selinas cats also like u

You're actually kinda fond of cats but you've never met any until one day when you can over to Selinas appartment

You'd only ever seen cats on TV or on the internet but never in real life

You were having fun playing around with her 10 cats until you began aggressively sneezing lmao

You ended up spread out on the floor, arms outstretched as the cats began surrounding you

You were still sneezing, just not as bad anymore

That was until one of the cats walked up to your face and began licking your face

You could feel a strong sneeze coming up but you didn't want to scare him away so you ended up having to hold your breath so you wouldnt sneeze

You held it in for such a long time that even Selina wondered how you were still alive

But you couldn't hold it in for too long so you ended up sneezing anyways lmao

Sorry if this was kinda short, should I make a pt.2??

Oh and credits to @thesharktanksdriver , she inspired me to make this and u can tell bc I used the same layout as her. Her writing is amazing and I highly recommend you read it!!

#fake scenarios #fanfiction #batfam x reader #batfam x batsis #selina x bruce #selina x reader #cat woman x reader #headcannons #lovely anon #answered #catwoman #selina wayne #pt2???#im definitely better at headcannons than actuall stories lmao

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loversj0y · 1 year ago

Note

for the Wilbur Drabble Taylor swift thing can you PLEASE DO DELICATE

delicate

event masterlist

pairing: wilbur soot x gn! streamer! reader

tw: slight agoraphobia, bars, drinking, insecurities

notes: sorry abt the delays and stuff! love this song so fuucking much i <3333 this was my most listened to song last year

word count: 1.9k

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng / @core-queen / @zooone / @lillylvjy / @melunnek

It was almost a sick kind of amusing how easily words could be twisted. Within a week, you felt like you’d gone from the top of the world to the bottom of the barrel, when a stream clip of you talking about a fellow streamer got twisted into what felt like the whole world turning against you. It was stupid. You hated him for valid reasons, but you didn’t actually say anything, people just took things too far and now, even when you tried to clarify things, it only got worse. You watched with horrified eyes as friends turned their back on you, saying the worst fucking things about how you were a liar and a snake, over a stream clip taken out of context.

You wanted to hide. Entirely. Even knowing that you were only a Twitch Streamer, not some big time celebrity, it felt like every time you left the house you could feel people’s glares and angry stares (despite the fact that it was mostly in your head). Leaving your house became a stressful ordeal.

So you did hide. You stopped streaming and making content, except for all the ideas you wrote down because your brain was so wired for it at this point. But your dark bedroom became a sacred place, the only place you truly felt safe.

It was pretty late, nearing midnight when your phone buzzed on your nightstand, the screen lighting up the room.

‘hey, where are you?’ was all the text read. It was from Wilbur. You honestly barely even knew him a few months ago, but he somehow became your best friend. He stuck by you even despite what everyone said about you online, and you honestly questioned if he knew what happened.

‘Hiding again :(‘ You texted back simply.

He sent you his location, and you looked to check what it was. It was a shady dive bar on the outer part of town, away from most people.

‘I will literally pay for your uber. You need to leave your house and this place is really cool.’

You debated it for a long moment. You didn’t look perfect right now, but if you tossed on a better pair of pants and a jacket, you could fix up everything else easily. And it would be nice to get out of your house for at least a bit, even if the thought gave you anxiety.

‘Be there soon.’ You texted him after a few minutes of deliberation, standing slowly. You got dressed quickly and called an Uber, waiting for it to be outside before you actually left out your front door. The entire drive over mostly consisted of your fingers nervously drumming on your leg as anxiety filled you more and more.

By the time you arrived, you had half a mind to just ask the Uber to turn back around. But you already told Wilbur you’d be here, so you got out of the car and headed inside. It was a nice place, you did have to hand it to Wilbur. The front was primarily open, a patio with people chatting freely among themselves. None of them spared you a glance as you headed towards the main entrance, and you felt grateful for it. When you did walk in, a few heads turned, and your anxiety grew. After a moment of searching the slight crowd, you spotted Wilbur in the back, sitting at a two top alone. You smiled softly and waved as you started walking towards him.

He stood, coming up and giving you a hug, “You made it! I was getting a little worried you’d ditch.”

“I almost did,” you admitted softly, hugging him back, “But I think my Uber driver was getting pissed at my finger tapping, honestly.”

He laughed, sitting back down. You sat down across from him, smiling at him. He looked really nice, a blue vintage Nike jumper matched with a pair of dark jeans. The thing about Wilbur having stuck by you when no one else really did, was it lead to a fast development. The feelings you had for him went from friendly to romantic at some point, and although you couldn’t pinpoint when, it happened almost all at once and quickly. But you found yourself oddly content with it, the anxiety in your brain focused too much on your online life to focus on how you felt about a crush. It didn’t mean you weren’t nervous, but it was much more subdued when your mind was preoccupied with so much else.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t,” he smiled, “has it been bad today?” “Eh,” you shrugged, “Not any worse than the rest of the days, I guess.”

He nodded, “Every day it isn’t worse is progress, I’d say.”

You nodded, quietly taking a moment to look around the room. It had gotten busier, but it wasn’t overwhelming yet, especially with no one looking in your direction. You turned back to him, fiddling with the chipping paint at the edge of the table.

“Are you not worried?” You asked him, avoiding eye contact, “To be seen with me?”

He gave you a funny look, shrugging, “Honestly? I don’t give a shit. Isn’t it enough for me to know you and like you?”

You peered up at him, a soft flush covering your cheeks, “Yeah, I just mean like… I don’t want you to get into hot water for being seen with me.”

“Let them say what they want about me. I don’t do enough on the internet these days to even cause much talk anyways.” He smiled.

His smile brought a smile out of you, “If you’re sure.”

“Oh, trust me,” he chuckled, “I’m very sure.”

The majority of the night was fine, a few drinks keeping the conversation light. Wilbur did a fantastic job of keeping your paranoia at bay, for the most part. As the bar got a bit more full, it was inevitable for people to look at you both, and it became all too much when a couple gave you both several glances. Wilbur caught onto your growing paranoia, and he reached over, gently touching your arm.

“Hey, let’s get out of here. We can head to mind, if you want?”

You nodded, and in your slight panic, you took his hand into yours, holding onto him for support. He led you outside, hailing a cab.

He moved his hand to your back, rubbing it gently. “It’s alright,” he murmured, “You’re okay, alright?” You nodded, leaning into his touch, “Yeah, sorry, there were just a lot of people, and I just… yeah.”

“I know, it’s alright,” he smiled, pulling you in closer to him. He was warm, and you felt yourself leaning in to his side. He moved his arm, and you almost moved away from him, but instead he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in closer while you waited for the cab. He gave you a gentle smile, and you found yourself flushing under his attention. When the cab pulled up, he opened the door for you and ushered you in first, a hand gently staying on your back to remind you that you were safe, and that he was there. He got in, keeping you close, and he told the driver his address.

The drive was quiet and nice, staring at the city as it passed quietly. Your hand rested on the middle seat, and after a moment, you felt Wilbur’s hand gently rest on top of yours. Without turning your head, you turned your hand slowly, lacing your fingers together. He gently squeezed your hand, and you returned the gesture, a soft smile brushing onto your face.

Once the cab pulled up to Wilbur’s apartment building, Wilbur carefully got out of the car, never releasing your hand the entire process, even as you both walked upstairs. You were almost scared to speak, the entire environment felt delicate, like if you spoke, he’d pull his hand away and be added to the long list of betrayers in your life. You wanted to say something, to admit how he’s occupied a permanent home in your mind, but the cold air of the apartment lobby didn’t seem like the home for that conversation.

You took the elevator to the third floor, getting a bit closer to Wilbur and leaning your head against his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head ever so gently before the elevator arrived, and he walked you to his apartment. When you walked in, neither of you wanted to pull your hands away, so he gently moved you both to sit on the couch.

You looked up at him, and he met your gaze. You got lost in his eyes immediately, pretending you were actually his. Fuck, you liked him much more than you thought.

You didn’t want to speak up. You had to, because for once, it felt like maybe there was someone who liked you for you, and you couldn’t bear to get your hopes up only for it to fall through. But there was something your brain seemed more inclined to do first.

“Wilbur,” you started softly. Your faces were incredibly close now, and you could feel his breath against your face, “Can I kiss you?”

He nodded quickly, hand gently moving to rest on your cheek. He leaned in, and you met his lips, kissing him gently. Your hands went to rest on his shoulders, and his hand gently cupped the back of your head, not forcefully, just lightly threading his fingers into your hair. The kiss was gentle, yet full of passion and longing.

When you pulled away, your foreheads rested together for a few moments as you sat there quietly, processing how to speak up.

“I like you,” you spoke softly, “I- I know that’s probably obvious, but… even despite everything, you’ve stuck by me even though my reputation has literally never been worse, and I’ve been trying hard to seem composed and put together around you,” you started rambling as you continued, pulling away slightly so you were actually facing each other now, “but you’re on my mind a lot more than I should probably admit, and our friendship is already pretty delicate, so I’m honestly a bit terrified to have even brought this up, but I just really-”

“Hey,” Wilbur interrupted, chuckling softly, “take a breath. Relax. This is going better than your mind is probably telling you right now.”

You nodded softly, taking a breath slowly. “I just- I really like you. Is it cool that I said all that?”

He smiled softly, bringing a hand forward and brushing a strand behind your ear, “Yeah, it is. Because I really like you too. I don’t give a fuck what people say about you, honestly. I like you for you. You’re gorgeous, and smart, and you’re way funnier than you give yourself credit for.”

You flushed softly, taking his hand in yours once again as you thought for a moment, “Life is crazy, so, I know we can’t make any promises now or anything but… you know what you can make?”

He grinned, chuckled softly, “What is that?”

“You can make me a drink.”

He laughed, head falling back, before looking back at you with the most adoring eyes, “See. Funnier than you give yourself credit for.” He smiled and stood, kissing your forehead, “I’ll go get you that drink.”

You grinned back at him, and as you heard echoes of his footsteps, you relaxed and let out a breath, knowing that as delicate as everything is, you at least didn’t have to pretend he was yours anymore.

#mar's 200 follower event #mar writes #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x y/n #wilbur #wilbur soot fluff #mcyt fanfiction

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theloveinc · 1 year ago

Note

omg katuski as kendall…so true bestie…anyways i like to imagine aside from looks reader is actually really good at their job which inturn makes them EVEN MORE SEXY TO THE OFFICE!!!

(succession!au tag - here!)

do notttt make me turn this into a post abt character x smart!reader bc that's my whole fucking life and i'll die defending it before i die doing anything else. on god.

but anyway, in the succession!au too?? *starts foaming at the mouth and spitting*

LIKE, they're almost all fucking nepo babies of SOME sort, cuz even the ones with more humble beginnings (like Kiri and Deku) never had to work that hard w/ Bakugo and All Might by their sides, helping to both teach them abt business AND offer them fancy jobs...

so meeting someone (Y-O-U) who actually labored for what they have? and truly earned their position w/ hard work and genuine smarts???

ooooh it's so sexy to them, especially since you can see right through almost all of their shit and don't give into their stupid requests and business moves just bc you wanna be in their favor or suck dick for a better position.

(let it be known that Deku has fumbled a few good deals letting a new recruit make decisions on his behalf just because he wanted to get in their pants... a fact that never fails to make bakugo smug asf LOL)

But there you are, working hard + minding your business AND THEY LOVE IT; love when you charge into meetings and assert your points, or fight back when you think a plan is stupid, even if that plan is All Might's or Bakugo's... you actually care about the company and they can tell.

...which is why you end up getting invited to all the foreign business meetings where the boys drool over your nice, revealing vacation clothes at the same you negotiate business...

and if your blatant denial of their interest in you and focus on your work makes them all the more horny? THAT'S NONE OF MY BUSINESS.

#succession au #the first time deku tries to hit on you in the copy room and you roll your eyes and continue printing out your write up #deku gets a hard on sooo bad he has to jack off in his private bathroom #but by the time he goes in to. try his luck with you again youve already rejected bakugo todoroki AND kiri #with the excuse that your work makes it hard to date #deku is like ho ho ho time to change that time to have the smartest partner in the WHOLE world #lmao hopefully im not derailing #u get what i mean #they see u working hard and it just makes them wanna FCUK #and hold your smarts above the heads of other ppl #ughdaksdjnljkdfnka #i could talk abt it all day #of kiri or bakugo or whoever trying to ask u on a date AFTER you tell them something complicated abt econ #ur like 'were u even listening?'#FCK NO BABIEEE #hope this was ok!#caitie answers #caitie things #anon

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sensei-venus · 2 years ago

Note

what do u think abt omega moon and omega reader who r in a relationship with each other falling for alpha eli?

(Unedited) (Support Links🌺) (This is short, might make a smut follow-up if asked.)

Reader couldn't stop the big smile that pulled at her lips as she watched the tall boy grab a book off the shelf.

“Here you go- that's the one you wanted right?” Eli said as he handed her the thick textbook.

Reader nodded at him as she held the textbook to her side. She spent over five minutes trying to reach the stupid thing. Lucky enough Eli, the shy alpha from her English class, just so happen to pass by. He was looking for a place to study and found some form of solitude in the school library. He was sitting his stuff down when he first laid eyes on the omega who was clearly struggling for a book on the top shelf of one of the many book cases.

Of course he knew who she was but he had never really taken the opportunity to actually talk to her. He only studies her from afar while in class.

He knew she had a girlfriend, another pretty omega by the name of Moon. Be saw the two of them talking all the time and walking around together. How even saw them kiss a few times, right on the lips.

It was a shock at first, he had never seen two omegas kiss before let alone date. He was by no means against the idea of omegas being together, it was just the first time he had actually seen two together in public.

Sometimes he secretly wished he could be between them. Be a real alpha and own up, go over, and talk to them. But he just couldn't. Two pretty and sweet omegas, currently and clearly in love with each other, going for an alpha like him? No way.

“Thank you for getting that book for me. I don’t know why someone would put such a big textbook up there. Thanks Eli.”

“Uhh no problem- wait you know my name?” Eli questioned at the big-eyed omega. He didn't think she would actually know his name. They never spoke before.

“Of course I know your, your in my english class. You sit across from me and my girlfriend Moon. You got that A+ the other day in class for the lit test. Your a very smart alpha.” She almost giggled at his shocked face. He gulped before shyly nodding.

“Thanks again.”

“Your welcome Reader..”

That’s how it started and things only spiraled after that day.

Moon caught the alpha watching her multiple times in the hallway. His bright blue eyes watching her and following her. It wasn't in a creepy fashion like most of the alphas at school. It was more innocent. As soon as he was noticed by the small omega he would look away, scatter away from her. It was like he just wanted to look at her, not actually try anything. He never got close enough honestly.

When Reader told her about the library incident, things started to turn.

Suddenly dirty talk now consisted of things like-

“You wish it was that alpha fucking you right now.”

“You wish it was Eli’s fat knot in you instead of my fake one.”

“Bet you want his hot load inside you, inside that pretty fat cunt.”

Weeks of hot messy fun sex with the thought of the alpha.

School became a hot zone after that for the omega couple.

Reader and Moon couldn’t stop from looking over at the alpha. They both sat at the back of the lunch room, away from their own little group of friends. It was their day to just be alone together. Today they wanted to spend their time looking at the cute little shy alpha. The alpha caught both of their eyes and was now on their radar.

Moon giggled as she cuddled closer to the chubby girl, her head resting on her shoulder. Reader felt her cheeks get warm the longer she looked at the boy. He was sitting with his friends across the room with his head down. Borrowed into himself.

“He's cute, I don't think I have ever met such a shy and sweet alpha before. A real one that is, not a fake one that does it to try and get into omega’s pants all the time.”

“Yeah your right. I can't get over his eyes, their so pretty and blue! Aww hes adorable. I kinda want to just jump his bones.”

Moon laughed as she looked up at Reader, the two of them smiled before sharing a small light kiss. Reader giggled as they separated. Moon rubbed against the scent gland in Reader’s neck, the two of them gently scenting one another.

They didn't really care who saw them, it was a normal thing to do with your mate. Both of their eyes were closed as they scented one another. After a moment they stopped.

“So it's a yes on the possibility of-”

“Oh yes, definitely! I guess we just have to think of a way to ask him....”

The two omegas smirked as they accidentally locked eyes with Eli. His cheeks flared and his eyes went wide. He spun back around in his seat and hunched down. Clearly embarrassed after being caught watching the two affectionate omegas.

The two omegas watched from afar, waiting for the day to swoop in and claim the shy alpha as theirs.

Claiming him as theirs.

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candyredmusings · 2 years ago

Text

“Another One Of Those ‘Things My Discord Said’ Sentence Starters.

Things taken from DMs and a few group chats from Discord. CW: NSFT Change / Edit as necessary !

i am literally tom cruise

cum is cool.

[NAME] is fucked up cus he is straight man

[NAME] show me your fuckin tits

[NAME], you better not be standing catatonic in your room wearing your handmade jigsaw robe again.

its like they creampied me but instead of cum it was new music

like what about my pussy-area makes u think sea cucumber

the mind is weak. but the body is funky

so im reading that fanfic where 1d like, buys your soul or whatever and im shook

well tom servo is a sex god

and then i freaked it

FUCK YOU APPLE JACK FUCK

ILL SLURP WITH YOU

LEMME SHOW U DICK

ITS A SIDE QUEST YOU SILLY BITCH

I’m a zombie the law can’t stop me

LEAVE YOUR GOLDEN UNCRUSTABLES OUT OF MY HOME I WILL NOT FALL VICTIM TO THY TRICKERY

you, telling me to ignore a twink with side swept brown hair? foolish.

Hes so hot i briefly started texting like a straight person

and because I’m god and I’ve decided that. No. In fact. I’m not done.

MY DUMB BOTTOM BRAIN FOLLOWS COMMANDS TOO WELL

[NAME], I know you love bloopy reggae jams. Now is not the time

OH THATS WHAT I THOUGHT YOUD SAY YOU STUPID ACCIDENTAL HIMBO DEMON

man i rlly am attracted to paul mccartney.

its not that kennedy was gay af sleeping w jackies fat ass out, he just has a better one-

jealous of my massive honkeers

YOU BRAINCELLED BITCH

this forced open my third eye and i saw the devil--

oh me seeming romantically interested in u is making u uncomfortable?? noted

the only pussy this party city shake out wig looking mother fucker is getting

[NAME] expose your teeth right fucking now

IN THE DEPARTMENT OF OLD MAN FUCKING, WEVE GOT YOU BEAT

What if we kissed while one of us got called racist and we are both boys

i just jacked it to minecraft piss porn

I will pop a huge tentacle boner

i hate females fr fr

we left u to die to play minecraft

IM GONNA FRICKLE-FRACK YOUR WIFE

CAN I KARATE CHOP IT LIKE IN SPONGEBOB

DWIGHT FROM THE OFFICE IS NOT MY SKRUNKLY

she would never ever take away one of these stupid fucking hats

My brother in Christ you’re being haunted

i want to wring you like a wet towel and slap u against a wall

Yeah you'll come to learn I just have a thing for milk

Piss ur pants harder pls I wanna watch

I'm gonna corn on the kill myself

good morning to parappa and his stans. everyone else..... hi ig

lol look at this clown with no slurs

God has abandoned his children but unfortunately for you I pay child support and I will smite thee.

this is how I reveal myself to be homophobic

I have no sluts

idk what it is abt it but boba makes me become like an actual whore

im homophobic suddenly

he was like ‘You're so big”.... and i just started crying

anyones penis can be hard hes not special

for the love of god please help me

i can talk about piss for hours

im sorry i havent recognized mickey mouse clubhouse ost as the cultural landmark that it is

I ASKED IF WE WOULD RP AFTER FUCKING BIBLE STUDY OR WHATEVER

the benefits of being a yandere is that i dont have to forgive OR forget and I am a living breathing PVP zone so Fuck with me white boy.

When toxic by ashnikko comes on I enter the gaslight gatekeep phases of my girlbosshood

im like a child in line for the newest fucked up disney ride

[NAME] is just all fucking Sorts of fucked up

im clownfaking

why are we here? to suffer? every other day i get messages from a whore

always thinking abt when my friend called me a "white boy whore"

you gotta PUMP the errand girl with cocaine

im beyond shame bc i love all cock try again

people have fetishes.

They really do crucify anyone these days huh

u may have never hungered for cock but you have hungered for a sub sandwich and honestly? theyre basically the same thing-

hi im drawing hentai

[NAME] idk why but that really. makes me want to stab you

“Don't have sex FOMO, [NAME], no! “

“TRY AND NUKE THIS, BITCH.”

“There's a group of golden skeletons behind you hitting the griddy “

“GRANDPA’S ASHES SUCKED MY COCK AND TOOK ME TO ARBYS.”

“You’re lanky with no gender and silly goofy with the rizz it works.”

“You can’t just tell me I could be a Tumblr sexy man to my face at 4:30 PM.”

"I have strong opinions about the soviet union"

“CALL THAT PUSSY THE MATRIX CAUSE IM IN THIS BITCH AND I CANT GET OUT “

“dont cry. 8000 types of reptiles on the planet, okay?”

[NAME] lives his life like he’s an RPG character but picks only the rude dialogue options.”

“I need to beat off to this before God destroys California.”

"No amount of pussy could get me on a rollercoaster with three loops"

"I love your senior citizen pussy"

"Gerber is pretty reliable .. I mean .. The Gerber baby didn't die .... did it?"

“you are white i assume”

"I hate you terrorist, and you may quote me on that"

"I love watching you play minecraft. It's like watching a baby fawn."

"I've never seen old men who fuck harder."

"i don't need him to KILL i need him to FUCK ME"

"well maybe if you just dicked down your wife she wouldn't have gone on a murderous slut rampage"

"why cant these BIG titty bimbos stop HANGING around me"

#txt #rp meme #rp memes #roleplay memes #roleplay prompts #sentence starters #ask prompts #inbox memes #inbox prompts #dj khaled voice: anotha one #candyredtext

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teddybeartoji · 6 months ago

Note

HELLO I’M SLIDING INTO YOUR INBOX NOT SO SMOOTHLY

5, 13 and 33 for your ask game :3

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEELANIBABYYY:333333333333

5. tell us some funny drunk story

😭😭😭 idk how funny it is to everybody else but it sure is to me. it's more embarrassing actually but i'm gonna tell you anyway:333 soooo cue me going to the club after a 12h shift. i hadn't eaten anything since like 3pm and my work day ended at 9 aaaand we were at the party at like 11 already. it's not looking too good already now is it.............. i also vaped at that time. and i am a terrible lightweight :D so i am starving and two drinks in, vaping and dancing my ass off, and i'm already starting to feel a little off yk? so i think that taking a piss will fix me.

it did not.

oh and also this was during february so it was cold as shit and we didn't even take our coats off (just bc we kept going outside and then back inside). so now. i'm in this bathroom that's exactly the size of ONE toilet i kid you not. it's literally the door - you - toilet and that's the whole room😭😭😭😭 i was already struggling with my long coat bc fuck my head is dizzy and there's no room and there wasn't anywhere to put the damn thing either so i ended up just holding it in my lap. i finally manage to actually take a piss and then...

oh no...

i feel SO bad. like sick. like i'm about to vomit. FUCKFUKCUFKCUFK THE ONLY THING IN MY HEAD WAS HOW THE FUCK AMI EVEN GONNA PUKE IN HERE?????? AHGSHASHGAGHSGHA I WAS ABT TO FREAK THE FUCK OUT. i took a few deep breaths and made a plan that i'm gonna rush outside immediately. i will not vomit all over the floor of the club. i will not. i know most of these people i would actually have to kll myself.

i push up i manage to pull my PANTIES on and... voila.

so i just ended up bent over the toilet bowl with my big ass coat in my hands with only my pink panties on i didn't have the time to pull up my pants, and since my ass was facing the door i just couldn't stop thinking abt the lousy ass lock on the thing... what if somebody actually pulls it open😭😭😭😭😭😭

i was just stuck in that pose for like two whole minutes bc i just... was kinda shocked that it even happened lmao AAAND THENNN as a cherry on top - i could fucking hear my friends ahshgasgha calling from me. i heard them talking to someone else being all like ":oo we lost mickey we lost mickey" but i didn't have the free hands to reach for my phone eitherrrrrr ajshhgsghaghsaghsgha plss it was so ridiculous.

after i finally regained some energy lmao i dragged my ass outside into the BLIZZARDDD BTWWWW IT WAS SO FUCKING COLD and i was sat there for like 40 minutes i think. my friends came out with me dw they brought me tea and everything:3333 but yeah the whole thing was soo stupid esp since i don't puke. like ever. i don't even get hangovers lmao

13. if the whole world listened to you right now, what would you say?

FIRST OF ALLLL THIS IS SCARY AS FUCK HELLO😭😭😭 I DO NOT WANT THAT MANY PEOPLE LISTENING TO ME HASHGAHGSAHA hmmmmm but... i'd either just go for the good old "i love you" because why the fuck not orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr i'd fucking rick roll all of you:33

33. something you are good at?

mmmmmmmmmmmm being very straightforward lmao and taking things literally. can be a bad thing but i think it's good too. i think i'm pretty good at finding solutions for the silliest problems just bc i think a bit differently than most i guess. autism<333

interview the mayor

#HEHEHEHHEHEE #THANK YOU SM FOR DROPPING BY ANGEL:3333 #THESE WERE SO FUN LMAO #MWAHMWAH MWAHH I LOVE YOU!!!#I HOPE UR DAY WENT SOOOOSO WELL!!!!!!!!!!!#AND I HOPE U ATE SOMETHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#I AM LOOKING AT YOU I AM IN YOUR WALLS #lani <3 #friends!!#mayor of loserville

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kimikiui · 2 years ago

Text

Why You Should Vote for Hakupo

Hello. Good evening, morning, afternoon, brunch, sleepytime whatever time it is for you right now. I am here to sell my little autism creature to you. This is going to be a fairly long post so, just sit tight.

The second round of polls will not be out for a couple of hours. I wanted to reblog the post with this, BUT- I have class at 3 when the polls are released. Plus, gotta get those non Hakupo believers before they vote for anyone else, amirite?

Also the stickers used between catagories are the official line stickers by Pikomaru ➜ https://store.line.me/stickershop/product/3951590/en

Reminder; It's only Shinji sweep until its Hakupo sweep.

No, I'm not putting a section breaker because even if you don't read it, I want you to see the sheer size of this... It's an essay at this point. Let's get started shall we?

What is a Hakupo?

Hakupo Tsukishiro is a energetic and powerful masculine voicebank for Utau (and amadeusy but we dont talk abt brunnnoooo). He was released all the way back in 2010 and has had many important milestones in his 13 years of distribution. Four compilation albums, 7 voicebanks, 2,500+ fanarts (that i all have), and uses by really awesome people *points to the crowd*. That's all of you guys out there. <3

Hakupo as a character is inspired by moe, thanks Clarice. Like most moe characters, he's a bit air headed and happy go lucky person. His positive attitude is sometimes brought into original songs he's featured in, which just makes me smile- girlbosses love a good pick me up song.

Also he has a stupid little coat and pants. This is all you need to know to vote for Hakupo, but I will continue forward incase you are still on the fence.

Cool Hakupo Facts

He almost has the same exact suggested range as Miku (C3 to E5)... His is actually larger... he goes higher (C3 to G5).

The "Do Re Mi FâåÁaæ↓" incident of Christmas 2020, contact me I will elaborate further.

There is a little bit of an evil twin thing going on. Yeah. This is a win.

His genderbend design Kohaku is revealed when you turn down the brightness of his official reference sheet (he pulled a scott cawthon guys).

He hates to be called cute and have his head patted... which is cute.

Despite looks- His description says he has curly hair come on guys- LITTLE FLUFF.

By looking at his official Twitter bot, there's a few extra things we can learn about him. He is very stupid, very impatient, has a horrible sleep schedule, bad at multitasking, and can't stand still (I can elaborate more on these if asked).

I wrote a 43 page Utau cartoon pilot script with Hakupo as the main character. Shameless plug.

I also wrote my college admissions essay about Hakupo. Thanks for getting me into college Bobo!

Sick Bobo Uses

Get boboed.

What does Bobo mean to me?

I found Hakupo 7 years ago now, sitting in the middle of an Utau melody. I told myself I would just turn off my tablet and listen to the music. Yeah that worked- guess who was next after the screen turned off. BOBO! I needed to see the little creature creating this melody. I turned on the screen, and was not disappointed. Fancy twink in a oversized tailcoat with weird pants. I remember rambling to my mom later about how cool he was, why he was so unique, and why this one specifically caught my attention.

He's been my special interest since then, everyone around me knows Hakupo wheather they like it or not. He's about 80% of everything I draw, 50% of what I talk about, and 100% of my little creature I snuggle up with every night.

Literally.

I have a Hakupo bodypillow. Can't sleep without him.

Anyways, he's helped me find a lot of my best friends *coughcoughmeatcoughrevcough*, never fails to make me happy, and helped everyone around me realize I'm extremely autistic. The least I can do is write an ungodly long propaganda post while drinking my coffee at 9 am.

Stan Bobo Oobieero.

Hakupo Memes for Propaganda

GO VOTE FOR HAKUPO ON @utaupoll AT 3 PM EST

Thanks, have a nice day.

#kiui speaks #i am so pissed that im gonna b in math #why is 30% of my grade attendance #utau poll #utau #hakupo tsukishiro #propaganda #hakupo sweep #i spent 3 hours writing this

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spiteless-xo · 1 year ago

Note

Im so sorry this ramble is so long but here u go🙁

The absolute terror that came over me when i saw the email notification for the new chapter😭😭😭ok before i read im gonna put my final insights here,, ive literally been scrambling around my house procrastinating reading it bc im TERRIFIED and honestly im so sad its ending,, ive been reading since like february??? I think???Idk atp but i cannot express how much ive loved this story i wish it couldve just continued forever🥲🥲

Ok my predictions are that this will not be a one way path ik tiff is evil and likes to fuck w our feelings😞 i think smt twisted like reader picking eren but eren not picking reader could happen BC HE REALISED HIS SELF WORTH MAYBE😭😭but im not intricate enough to actually use that to decide but i honestly am at a loss i have no clue,, its an honest gamble but i do think eren is endgame??? Help i have no clue😭 but i do remember someone analysing the smells? Vanilla is more home and comfort so like a foundation? And citrus was for summer and things but i was thinking how summer is a temporary thing where people live out crazy activities for the sake of it but the whole thing abt it is that its temporary like we always have to go back HOME to our foundation aka vanilla aka eren????

Thing is ive been eren for endgame since DAYY ONEE i only almost switched up once during the arc with erens confession (idky😞) but other than that ive stayed loyal LMAO idk if im just being delusional tho convincing myself I think she'll end up with eren but

ALSO my other point right

I wanna take this back to tiff bc she IS the author😋 from what ive seen in her tumblr,, a lot of the reader owns resemblance to tiff?? She's mentioned a lot how the readers job is based off her irl experience in an office and some of the readers habits shes claimed to have herself i remember she was saying how people bashing the reader made her think like 'wait thats kind of me tho’ i remember it too vaguely to quote but ANYWAY off the basis that the reader is in some aspects (not all) a projection in some ways?? Its gonna influence,, we ALL know tiff is a strong jean girl😭 we love that and so u'd think jean would be picked BUT in between chapters i saw a few tumblr posts abt her growing liking for eren? I wont deny that she is DEFINITELY still a jean girl but i think for some form of variation in her work bc i think as far as i know she only has one other eren story on her ao3 and so i think her growing crush ok eren may be enough to win her over for just this fic even if jean remains her favourite?? I have like ten million other theories but i need to read the chapter now i will be back😋😋 (im so scared im shitting my pants)

Im back!! its been like 6 days since i read it but i just didnt have time to write out my reaction after bc i was so fucking immersed i lost track of time and was late to meet up w my friends💀💀💀anyway it was such rollercoaster omd😭 the letters from jean we’re honestly so cute and i think the year time skip made everything all the more realistic in her choice bc she frl needed that break😭 OMD AND THE WAY I WAS PANICKING when that girl came out the elevator istg i thought it was mikasa,, with all generic eren fanfics if theres ever a third party to make the reader jealous theres some unspoken rule to never use mikasa for some reason and i was dying thinking it was gonna be her😭😭 commonly people use historia so when even a mention of eren having a new gf came up my mind shot to historia i swear i was worrying just as much as the reader💀 anyway back to jeans letters i was honestly like getting a bit swayed that i wouldnt even be upset if reader ended up w jean and especially considering how offstandish eren was when reader went to see him at first he was like not following up on anything like he was rushing to see his stupid gf (it was armin🎉🎉🥳) AND THE READER WAS SO CUTE FOR THAT GUNDAM (tysm tiff its such a silly headcanon that eren collects those and builds them i can see it HELP) and i think it was so cute seeing the reader and sasha as bsfs more bc i think there was long periods of time that that relationship w sasha wasnt as strongly shown so its so nice AND OMGOGMOGM LEVI????? U made the dynamic w them so well how he has that small bit of warmth telling her she can work there whenever she needs its the cutest thing ever i love it more than ever and the way levi talks abt petra UGH u made everything so endearing, and istg the reader has never been real until this chapter bc she is so right saying that a bunch of paper doesnt change him bc I KNEW AS SOON AS HE SAID HE NEVER LEFT TITAN AND BECAME BASICALLY HIS DAD that he was not gonna be endgame,, i always had the theory that titan and the kirstein status is a metaphor for the status jean has from the reader bc shes loved him for so long thinking hes someone that hes really not,, jean was painfully aware how he could make any mistake at work and have no punishment similarly to how even if he hurts the reader she will always forgive him so if he couldnt avoid reaping the benefits of his kirstein status then it means he’d continue to take advantage of the reader but thing is this status dissolved when she took that year away from him which is why I appreciate how realistic it all is logic wise,, Eren evidently changed and omg i wanna know abt the pictures on his wall bc when reader was first there there was mention how there were no family pictures or any sign of him really living there but when she came back there were pictures,, i was trying to figure out the meaning but i cant get my finger on it😭 my guess is that he found more purpose in life?? Idk bc that seems so vague and farfetched i was wondering what ur intentions were with that🙆‍♀️ and i had a theory AGES AGO that piecks ‘bad bf’ before jean or smt was zeke?? Bc knowing how zeke was in that gc and stuff like that it sounded like smt was gonna link together? I just think the added details abt piecks past was left unfinished so i was also wondering abt that😋 anyway ugh the ending was also so cute usually i hate when characters dance in fanfics but it was so cute and fitting for the moment like THEM AT THE POINT omg i loved it i love u thank you SO MUCH tiff for an amazing story i hope u have a good day bb❤️❤️❤️

omg thank you for a such a lovely message 🥰💗🥰💗 i’ll hide my response under a cut here because it’s long

reading since february!! omg that’s like the beginning! i think i dropped the first chapter on valentine’s day

“tiff is evil and likes to fuck with our feelings” 💀💀💀 yes.

ugh the smells!!!!! that was my biggest slip up frfr 🙈 i said way too much when i responded to that ask because i was so excited someone asked!! and you guys were all right of course. eren was home and jean was just temporary (like the summer season)

lmao ok literally. i was still a hardcore jean girlie when i started writing tbaw and even after i decided it was gonna end w eren. so throughout writing tbaw….. i literally fell in love w eren jaeger 🙈 and i almost fell out of love w jean!!! tbaw!jean is so awful he almost ruined jean completely for me

hehehe yes yes you’re 100% right w jean. he’s so used to taking advantage and never getting punished (w reader and titan) that he doesn’t really see a point in changing because tbh his life is pretty good?? but then when reader spent time away from him, her blind infatuation w him wore off and then when he tried to pull that same shit again, she’s like nah bro.

ok this is probably not clear at all, but the deal w eren’s apartment is that in the beginning it’s very sanitized and show-homey because he feels distant and detached from his friends/family after the death of his mom and becoming close w zeke. he’s like internally ashamed of the way he’s acting because he knows he’s in the wrong so he’s almost punishing himself by distancing himself from everyone.

and then after a year when he’s changed and the pictures are on the wall, its because hes worked his way out of that hole of self loathing and is happy with the person he is now. so he’s able to feel more comfortable, even in the privacy of his own home, and having his mom “watch over him” in a sense, and cherishing his previous relationship w jean and his ongoing friendship w armin, etc etc.

yes!! pieck’s bad bf was zeke! i was originally going to have her have a bigger role in tbaw to show like how eren’s past behaviour can affect people, since she was a victim of that treatment when she dated zeke. but i scrapped it because it would’ve extended the story so much and also i didn’t really like writing pieck lol

so there are like lil bits and pieces about the pieck/zeke relationship and how the way he treated her makes her seek validation in men, but it’s super underdeveloped in tbaw.

thank you again for such a lovely comment!! i’m glad you enjoyed it 🥰💗

#tiff.ask #tbaw.fic #aot #usuibu

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90sbee · 11 months ago

Text

god i don't usually enjoy this trope but jdkfjsdf OH GOD !!!

You almost ask him to keep driving when your apartment building comes into view. There’s an air of understanding and comfort in the car, and you’re worried you’ll never see it again once you leave. You hope he doesn’t notice your disappointment when he pulls over.

ngl crazy abt this part like just. i can see it so clearly.

“I’ve never seen you smile before,” you say. “You should do it more, it’s nice,” Leon looks beautiful in pink, cheeks reddened and round. When he releases you, you consider falling again just so he’ll return. Instead, you gesture for him to follow you into the building, which he does. Although the stairs are a tough bet, you manage to stumble up them. You swear you hear Leon huff a laugh behind you when you stagger.

I AM VERY NORMAL SO VERY NORMAL ABT A CUTE BLUSHING LEON !!!

“I’ll be right here,” Leon returns. “I’ll keep watch,”

pls i would kill for this man to keep me safe HELLOOOO

He holds you, gently and carefully, cradling you as you fall apart. And you know, in that moment, that he won’t hold it against you later.

excuse me. how dare u write something so soft and gentle UGH IM GOING CRAZY

“Getting tired of me already?” he teases. Spending actual time with Leon has made you realize that he’s funny and playful. He’s not always stoic and unforgiving. He teases, he jokes, he smiles. You didn’t think the latter was possible. You just assumed that he was always unhappy.

NOW THIS WHOLE EXCHANGE I AM SO DUMB SO STUPID FOR HIMKFJDSFD WHAT A FUCKING DORK HE IS AAAA

“I just thought…you might be more comfortable here,” You smile at that. You can hear the insecurity in his voice, something you find sweet. “I’d like to stay here,” “Okay,” he says. You can almost hear the smile. It makes your heart flutter.

NO WORDS. MY BRAIN IS MUSH

He grins at you, and you feel like the entire city lights up a little more.

MY POOR HEART !!!!!!

Almost as if he senses you moving, he follows you, caging you into his arms. You feel like your heart stops when he pulls you in, sighing into your hair. His breath wafts down your neck, pulling up goosebumps in its wake. Your heart hammers against your chest.

yeah i'm gonna need like. 3 business days to recover from this one, boss

He’s slowly consumed every part of your life. It’s nice, you think. He looks so domesticated in these instances, like he’s your friend rather than someone to look after you. You like it. You like that he sometimes steals your shampoo when he runs out. You like that he learned what foods you like. You like that he made you a key. You like him. And that is a scary thought.

WHY WOULD YOU PUT THIS INTO SUCH LOVELY WORDS I AM LOSING MY MIND. !!!!!!!!!! MY POOR DOMESTIC HEART AAA

You know you’re on edge, but you can’t help it. It feels like a sin to want him.

A SIN???????? OOH GGFOGGFKGOFGK GODDDD

His smell permeates everything around you. Even in your new apartment with new furniture, you can’t wash away his cologne. Everything smells of cedar and smoke with a hint of citrus. You washed your clothes three times when you moved in, a feeble attempt at ridding yourself of him. You bought new shampoo.

JESUS CHRIST I AM NOT OKATY

You feel safe around him, regardless of the anger. You know he’d protect you regardless.

...... yu know it is embarrassing how much i'd trust this man. how pathetic i'd be for him. SOBBING

A cold hand slips beneath your shirt, soft and delicate against the red hot skin of your waist. You shiver against it. Devotion makes you dizzy as you pull away, breathing like you’ve nearly drowned. You steel yourself against his shoulders. He looks pretty like this, you think, lips kiss swollen and pulling in a grin around his teeth, face reddened with flush and excitement, hair falling into his eyes. “I resigned,” he says, panting. “So I could do that,” You laugh. “You could’ve done that anyway,” you say. He grins. “Felt wrong,” he says. “I wanted to do it right,”

you deserve a standing ovation for this one. holy shit. it flew so effortlessly and gosh. JDKDSFDKJF.

heaven is not fit

summary: what does it take to be loved? | bodyguard!leon x f!reader

word count: ~8.5k

warnings: mentions of violence, leon is kinda mean for like two seconds, strong language, mild trauma bonding (i guess??), not beta'd, incredibly mild angst (like fr you have to squint)

notes: this is sort of old and has already been posted to ao3 if you'd rather have a look there

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter,” you hiss. Your father’s face scrunches up.

“Language,” he mends, holding a hand up. “It’s just a precaution. He’ll be responsible for public spaces, taking you places, the like,”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “Dad, I’m an adult. I’m pretty sure I can take care of myself. The last thing I need is some stranger on my detail,”

Your father runs a hand over his worn features. He’s tired, you can tell. “I’m not making the same mistake twice,”

Ashley. She lives with her friends now, rather than alone, so there’s no real need to supervise her. Your heart twists with a twinge of guilt, but you hold your ground. “I’m not happy about this,”

“I didn’t expect you to be,” he says. “But, you’ll play by the rules, at least for me. For my sake, dove,”

You frown. “Fine,”

You meet him in a random conference room. He’s tall, with sharp features and blue eyes. He doesn’t seem friendly, which makes your mouth sour. He doesn’t speak through the introduction, just sort of stares straight ahead, like he’d rather be anywhere else. You don’t blame him. It’s not exactly a promotion he’s getting. You barely catch his name when he says it.

Leon.

It suits him, you think. You want to ask what his middle name is, if it’s as fitting as his first, but you don’t. Instead, you toe the carpet, listening to your father drone on about rules.

“Dovie, I’m serious,” he says, forcing you to look at him. “You don’t go anywhere alone, got it?”

“Got it,”

Despite your sickly sweet voice and feigned sincerity, you have no intention of keeping that promise. The ride to your apartment is silent. You notice that Leon drives with one hand, the other perched on the gear shift. When he stops outside your building, you hesitate for a moment before reaching for the handle, just in case he has something to say. As you shoulder the door, he grabs your elbow.

“Call if there’s an emergency,” he says. His voice is low timbred and honey sweetened, coating your nerves in warmth. You can only nod in response. He releases your arm, the tension from the area slipping away.

You hurry into your building, and you notice he waits until you’re through the door to drive off. It comforts you in a way. You make your way into your apartment. There’s a distinct heat on your neck when you enter, one that you hope disappears with a long shower. When it doesn’t, you find yourself staring at the phone. What would happen if you did call him? There wasn’t an emergency, unless you count this sudden bout of loneliness as an emergency. Would he show up? How is it any different than calling the police?

Six hours have passed since being demoted to babysat. You’ve been shuffled between rooms to meet with people, answer questions you don’t understand, and fight with your father. You find that being surrounded by people all day has made you exhausted. You take a breath, but jump when your phone vibrates.

“Hey, Ashley,” you say, sighing.

“Did you meet him?” she asks. You almost laugh.

“Yeah,” you say. “He doesn’t talk much,”

“No, he doesn’t,” she says. You can hear her friends laughing somewhere in the background. “You gotta get him to open up before he starts talking,”

“I can’t imagine that’ll be easy to do,” you huff. Ashley laughs. “He seems kinda stuck in his ways,”

“He is,” she agrees. “He’s…been through a lot. But, he’s a good guy. I think you’ll like him,”

You glance out the window at the rain. You wonder if it ever rained like this in Spain. “Well, if you trust him, so do I,”

…

You don’t see Leon for a week. You almost think he’s quit, but you know he doesn’t exactly have a choice in the matter. You consider calling him, just to see if he’d really show up, but you decide not to test it.

Instead, you go about your life normally. You go to work, you see friends, you buy groceries. You pretend you don’t have a babysitter.

On Monday, when you return home from work, you spot Leon’s car outside your building. Rolling your eyes, you prepare for the worst, and work your way into the building. Sure enough, he’s sitting on your couch when you enter your apartment.

“Make yourself at home,” you say, closing the door behind you. He doesn’t look at you.

“You haven’t called,” he says. You roll your eyes again.

“You said to call if there was an emergency,” you explain, cocking a brow. “There hasn’t been one,”

“You shouldn’t walk to work alone,” he continues. He turns his head finally, staring at you with the same stoic expression you first saw on him. You blink at him.

“How do you know I walk alone?” you ask. “Have you been following me?”

He nods. “It’s my job,”

You sigh, turning away. “Definitely not creepy,”

“Have you noticed anything weird?” he asks, standing to follow you into your kitchen.

“Other than you? No, I haven’t,” you say. He doesn’t laugh, not that you expected him to. “Seriously, I haven’t noticed anything amiss,”

He nods. “Good,”

He turns to leave, and you raise your eyebrows, surprised at the quickness of the interaction. “That’s it?”

“Yeah,” he says, grabbing his keys from the counter. “That’s it,”

“You don’t want to, like, scope out the area?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “Make sure no weirdos are lurking behind my curtains?”

“Do you think there are?” he asks, looking at you. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“I mean, no,” you say.

“Then I won’t waste your time,” he says. “You’re an adult. I trust that you can take care of yourself,”

With that, he leaves. You’re taken aback at his cut and dry attitude. You would’ve thought he would be more hands on, given what you know about his time with Ashley. You choose to ignore it; you should be grateful he’s not up your ass. He said it himself, you’re an adult. You can take care of yourself. It’s not his fault–or yours–that no one else seemed to agree. He has plenty of other things he can spend his time doing besides watching your every move.

Which is why, the following morning, you’re surprised to see Leon waiting outside beside his car. You look around before crossing the street to him. Without a word, he opens the passenger door.

“I take it I’m not allowed to walk alone anymore?” you say, ignoring his gesture. He stares at you.

“Rules are rules,” he says. You roll your eyes, filing into the vehicle.

He joins you a moment later. You ignore the heat on your neck when he brushes his hand against your knee to reach for something in the glovebox.

“I’ve been walking this way for years,” you protest. “I don’t need a ride,”

“You don’t have a choice,” he says, cutting a glance at you. He almost makes a wrong turn before you correct him. “I make the rules, you follow them,”

“And rule number one is: don’t walk to work by myself?” you ask, annoyance lacing your tone.

“Well, rule number one is actually to call me if something’s wrong,” he corrects. “But, this is rule number two,”

The rest of the ride is silent. Leon doesn’t so much as glance at you, which almost upsets you. He pulls up to the curb outside of your workplace, and throws the car into park.

“What time do you get off?” he asks, finally looking at you. There’s a gentle tone to his voice, one that throws you off guard.

“Four,” you say. “I’ll be off at four,”

“I’ll be outside,” he says. At this, you exit the car, rounding it before entering the building. He waits for you to get inside before driving off. You wonder what he’ll be doing for the next eight hours. If his job is to follow you around, that means he doesn’t have another job to get to, so what does he do? You wonder what he does when he’s at home.

“Since when did you have a chauffeur?” Marnie asks, jabbing your shoulder.

“Since now,” you say, still looking out the window.

Four o’clock rolls around sooner than you expect. You find yourself a little excited to sit in the car; it’s a nice change of pace. As expected, Leon’s waiting outside the building when you walk out. Again, he’s leaning against the car, waiting for you. When he sees you, you think he’s going to smile. Your shoulders deflate when he doesn’t. Instead, he jerks his head in a gesture to hurry up. You cross the street, and he rounds the car to the passenger side.

“I can open the door myself,” you say. He looks at you.

“I do it for show,” he bites. You swallow, stunned by the harshness of his tone. You allow him to open the door for you.

The ride is silent. Again, he doesn’t look at you. You can feel the tension about him, the way his shoulders are square and strong. His knuckles are almost white from the way he’s holding the steering wheel. You ignore the guilt that brews in your stomach.

“Call me if there’s an emergency,” he says. You nod, hurrying out of the car to avoid any further conversation. Again, he waits until you’re in the building to leave. You wonder if that’s a gentlemanly habit or a job habit.

…

It’s Friday night, and you’re going out with friends. You stare in the mirror, like you have for the last half hour, analyzing the intricacies of your outfit. You can’t decide if you like it or not. You tug at the shirt again, wondering if you should change. There’s a knock at the door. You huff, deciding that the outfit will have to do.

You’re not sure who you expect to be at the door, but it’s not Leon. He looks collected, jacket slung over his shoulders, hair framing his face. He looks normal, not like a man constantly working. He blinks at you.

“Where’re you going?” he asks. You sigh.

“Hello to you, too, Leon,” you say. “I’m going out with a few friends,”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t have to ask permission for things,”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. You can practically feel the anger radiating off of him. “You kind of do, actually. So I can be where I need to be,”

“Well, I don’t need you to be anywhere,” you bite. He frowns. “I can take care of myself,”

At this, you go to shut the door, but he stops it with his foot. He pushes his way into the apartment, closing the door behind him.

“Look,” he says, voice low and gentle. “I get it. But I have a job to do, and I’m not going to let your stubborn independence get in the way, alright?”

You stare at him. “Stop being such an asshole, and I’ll think about it,”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of playfulness to it. “Sure, deal,”

Leon doesn’t follow you into the bar, and if he actually does, he makes it so that you can’t see him. You spend the evening laughing and enjoying yourself, which is relieving. You needed a break from everything. Your friends ask about the fact that you got a ride here, rather than walking.

“My feet have been killing me lately,” you lie. “And have you seen these shoes? I’d probably die ten feet from my building,”

When you’re sufficiently drunk, you call Leon. It’s the first time that you’ve actually called him, rather than just expecting him to show up. He’s kind enough to act like he’s not in the vicinity, and you pretend that he’s not. Instead, you lie to yourself and say that he drives very fast. He’s standing outside the bar, waiting for you again.

“My hero,” you say, voice flighty and gentle. “I shouldn’t have worn these shoes,”

He doesn’t answer, just helps you into the car. You ramble about your night on the drive home, not giving him the room to answer because you know he won’t.

“Did you learn to drive on a manual?” you mumble, whirring your head away from the window to look at him. He glances at you.

“What?”

“A manual,” you say again. “Manual transmission. You drive with your hand on the shift, like you’ll need to use it at any given moment. In an automatic, you don’t need to do that, but in a manual you do. So, if you learned to drive on a manual, you would’ve picked up that habit,”

He doesn’t respond for a long while. His eyes are focused on the road ahead of him. Finally, he says, “Yeah, I did,”

You feel satisfied with yourself, surprised that you were able to figure that out. “You have a lot of habits like that,”

“Name some,” he says, cutting a glance at you.

You take in a breath. “You wait outside before leaving so you can make sure I get into my building safely. You bite the inside of your cheek when you’re thinking about something. You square your shoulders in public, like you’re prepared to shoot,”

“You’re observant,” he says. You grin.

“Gotta know who I’m spending time with,” you reply, grinning wildly and returning your focus to the window.

“Do you need help getting in?” he asks. The gentle tone is back, and you pretend, for a moment, that he genuinely cares. You shake your head.

He watches you almost fall out of the car, stumbling on your tall heels and drunken legs. You right yourself, flashing him a smile. He returns it, then follows you out of the car.

“I can make it,” you say, balancing against his car. When you almost fall again, he’s there to catch you. His hands fall against your waist with ease, like they’re meant to be there. You feel heat flush your cheeks, and you almost move away. He steadies you, giving you a look to make sure you’re alright.

“We’ll see about that,” he says, still smiling faintly.

“I’ve never seen you smile before,” you say. “You should do it more, it’s nice,”

Leon looks beautiful in pink, cheeks reddened and round. When he releases you, you consider falling again just so he’ll return. Instead, you gesture for him to follow you into the building, which he does. Although the stairs are a tough bet, you manage to stumble up them. You swear you hear Leon huff a laugh behind you when you stagger.

At your door, you pat your pockets in order to find your key. Sensing your loss, Leon holds out the key he has. You accept it gratefully, turning the knob to make sure it’s actually locked.

Your heart sinks to find it unlocked.

“Did you forget to lock it?” he asks, voice hushed. You turn to him, fear evident on your face, and shake your head. He steps between you and the door, and holds a hand out to tell you to stay put. You find yourself willing to listen.

He enters the apartment slowly, quietly. You pretend there isn’t a gun in his hand. He rounds the corner into the kitchen, and you catch his frame again when he crosses the room to the bedroom. He returns in a few minutes.

“It’s clear,” he says. He pushes the door open more to allow you to enter. You feel uneasy, suddenly sober.

“I never forget to lock my door,” you promise. “Ever. Is…is the window open or something?”

He shakes his head. “You must’ve forgotten this time,”

“No, no I don’t do that,” you say. You wander to the window, finding it closed. Your head hurts. You feel on edge, like there’s someone watching you.

With a sigh, you sit on the couch.

“There’s no one here,” Leon promises, sitting beside you. You look at him. “Trust me, I checked,”

“But what if someone was here?” you say, looking at him. “I don’t…I don’t want them to come back,”

He reaches out for a moment, then decides to return his hand to his side. “No one’s coming back. I’ll make sure of it, okay?”

You can feel your hands shaking. “Will you stay?”

He softens when he looks at you. He can see the fear in your eyes. You think of your sister, stolen from somewhere she felt safe. You feel safe in your home, as anyone might. You don’t want to face the same fate. You know Leon knows that.

“Yeah,” he says. “Go change, I’ll be out here,”

You nod, rising to your feet. You wander past the window again, double checking that it’s closed. You find your clothes in the dark, not caring too much about what you put on. A shower sounds nice. You’re afraid to be alone for that long, though. Instead, you wash your face in the sink, then throw on your clothes, a loose t-shirt from a far off ex-boyfriend and sweatpants. You feel vaguely comforted by the thought of Leon sitting right outside the door.

“I’m going to try to sleep,” you call from the door. You want nothing more than to curl up in your bed.

“I’ll be right here,” Leon returns. “I’ll keep watch,”

You shuffle into bed easily. You feel safer knowing he’s outside, waiting for any potential threats. You feel especially safe knowing his reputation precedes him. There’s no doubt in your mind that he would protect you. It makes it easier to sleep.

You wake sometime later to a creak beside your bed. Your eyes shoot open to find a figure looming over you. You move to scream, but your eye catches the glint of moonlight against the barrel of a gun. You swallow whatever scream you had left, and rise to your feet. You’re moving without much thought, just doing whatever instinct tells you to. The figure says nothing, just motions to the window. You run through your options. If you shout, you’ll be dead before Leon even makes it into the room. You can’t fight him off, you’re definitely not strong enough. If you leave with him, you’ll be dead before Leon notices you’re gone.

You turn to face your attacker, who seems to grow frustrated with you. He, again, gestures to the open window. You take a breath.

Follow your gut.

In a fluid motion that surprises you, your fingers wrap around the barrel of the gun, shoving it towards the ceiling. You feel lucky; just as it’s pointed away from you, it’s fired. You knee the attacker in the stomach, and you’re out the door before he rises from the ground.

“What’s going on?” Leon shouts, assessing you for injuries quickly before entering the room.

You’re crying now, fat tears rolling down your cheeks before you can stop them. Your hand screams with pain, seared flesh crying out angry and red. You feel stupid, weak, small. You collapse onto the couch while Leon takes care of things.

The next two hours are a blur of police and your father. You answer questions vacantly, absent from the situation. Leon sits beside you, dressing the wound on your hand.

“Dovie,” your father says, holding your face in his hands. You begin to cry again. He pulls you into a hug, holding you as close as he can. You grip the back of his shirt, and sob into his shoulder.

“I’m okay,” you say. It’s true. You’re alive, breathing, hugging him. “I’m okay,”

When the crowd shuffles out, they take you and Leon with them. You vaguely hear them discussing where you’re supposed to stay, Lord knows you can’t stay here. You feel sick.

“She can stay with me,” Leon volunteers. You somehow feel worse. “Makes sense,”

You follow him to the car. You stare out the window. The sun is coming up on the horizon, a new day. You can’t help but think about how just 24 hours ago, you were in this passenger seat, on your way to work. Now, though, you’re swollen and hurting and scared. Your hand feels like it might just burn away.

“I didn’t know what to do,” you say by way of explanation. Leon doesn’t respond, so you continue. “I just grabbed it. I didn’t know it would burn me,”

“You’re lucky nothing is broken,” he says calmly. “Your fingers’ll be stiff for the next few days,”

You look down at them. They’re swollen for sure, round and angry red around the knuckles. There’s a strip of gauze against the burn on your palm now, courtesy of Leon’s deft and gentle hands. You graze it with your opposite hand. It aches beneath the dressing, a painful reminder of your night.

“I’m just up here,” Leon says quietly. You nod absently.

He lives in an apartment, same as you. He resides on the third floor, which is much nicer a walk than your seventh story apartment. His apartment is small, quaint, but you aren’t surprised by the lack of decoration. Blank white walls wrap the room. There’s a few pieces of furniture, but only the necessities like a couch, a few tables, a dining area, and a coat rack. He doesn’t even have a TV, which surprises you. He ushers you into the space, gently pushing against your back to get you to move.

“Go lie down,” he says. You turn to look at him. His gaze is softer now, full of sympathy. “You deserve peaceful, uninterrupted sleep,”

You don’t move. “You saved me,” you say. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there,”

“You handled yourself pretty well,” he says, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. You can feel tears resting in your eyes, begging to spill over. “I was there, and now you’re here. Nothing else to it. You’re safe with me,”

“I know,” you whisper. “I know,”

Without thinking, you wrap your arms around him. His embrace is comforting. His arms encircle your waist, holding you in an almost practiced way. He’s strong, holds you up where you can’t stand on your own. You can feel yourself beginning to cry again, relief washing over you as you recognize that you’re truly safe. You’re mostly uninjured, save for the burn on your hand, and you’re alive. You sob gently into Leon’s shoulder, and he holds you. He lets you cry. You half expect him to mock you, or to reject your plea for comfort, but he doesn’t. He holds you, gently and carefully, cradling you as you fall apart. And you know, in that moment, that he won’t hold it against you later.

…

You spend the next week off work, curled away in the safety of Leon’s apartment. He goes out, although rarely, for groceries and other things to entertain you. He even buys a TV. He claims that he’s been meaning to get one, but you know that he did that so you didn’t die of boredom. Initially, you were concerned about the sleeping arrangements. However, Leon is generous and lets you sleep in his bed while he shacks up on the couch.

“When can I go home?” you ask over Chinese takeout and an episode of Wheel of Fortune. Leon smiles at you.

“Getting tired of me already?” he teases.

Spending actual time with Leon has made you realize that he’s funny and playful. He’s not always stoic and unforgiving. He teases, he jokes, he smiles. You didn’t think the latter was possible. You just assumed that he was always unhappy.

“No,” you say honestly. “I just don’t want you to sleep on the couch anymore,”

He waves a hand at you. “It’s pretty comfortable,” he says, reaching down to pat the cushions. “I’ve slept in worse places,”

“This is your home, though,” you say. He wordlessly passes you an eggroll. “You should sleep in your own bed in your own home,”

He shrugs, which makes you frown. “As long as you’re safe and comfortable, I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to,”

“Damn it, Leon,” you laugh. He grins wider. “For the love of God, sleep in your own bed tonight,”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine, but you don’t get to sleep on the couch either, just so you know,”

Heat creeps up your neck, blushing against your cheeks and nose. You’re still smiling, but it’s more flustered now, shy and sweet.

Leon notices, and begins to flush himself. “That’s…that’s not what I meant,”

“I mean,” you begin, turning your eyes back to your food. “We can both sleep comfortably and not worry. I trust you,”

He lets out a barely audible breath. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, we can,”

That night, as you’re getting ready for bed, you notice Leon shifting nervously. You try to ignore it, pretend like nothing’s wrong. It’s easier to pretend. He keeps a decent distance between you on the bed; another person could easily fit between you. You’re suddenly self conscious, aware of each and every movement, how much blanket you take up, where your feet are laying.

“You never answered my question,” you say when he flips the lamp off. The room is flooded in darkness. You feel a little more confident now that you can’t see his face.

“What question?”

“About when I can go home,” you answer. He shifts beside you, almost like he’s about to get up.

“Not for a little while,” he says. You sigh. “It’s not safe for you at the apartment. Your dad doesn’t even want you going to work, but I worked something out so that you can. You can…you can stay here as long as you want,”

“Okay,” is all you say. You feel a little far away, removed from the world. In just under a month, you’ve lost all sense of independence, something you valued greatly, and have been reduced to someone that needs to be looked after like a child. You hate it.

“We can find a temporary apartment, too, if you think that’d be better,” Leon amends. “I just thought…you might be more comfortable here,”

You smile at that. You can hear the insecurity in his voice, something you find sweet. “I’d like to stay here,”

“Okay,” he says. You can almost hear the smile. It makes your heart flutter.

You turn onto your side, facing him. He’s still lying on his back, watching the ceiling as if it’s going to collapse. He glances at you. “If we’re going to be living together, we should get to know each other,”

He laughs. It’s a real laugh, not just a huff of air through the nose. “And what do you want to know?”

You think for a moment, tongue poking between your lips. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Don’t have one,” he replies easily. You snort.

“Everyone has a favorite color,” you say. He looks at you with a smile resting on his cheeks. It’s not compulsory; it’s genuine.

“What’s yours then?” he asks, voice low and gentle. You feel like you might melt away under his gaze.

“Blue,” you say. You almost tell him that his eyes have become your favorite shade of it, but you refrain. “Like the ocean,”

His smile widens. “Then that’s mine, too,” he says. You roll your eyes.

“No way,” you tease. “What is Leon Kennedy’s favorite color? And give me a real answer,”

He laughs. “Green,”

“Like, Kermit the Frog green or forest green?” you ask. He shrugs.

“Just…green,”

“So if I were to paint the apartment bright green you wouldn’t have a problem with it?” you ask. His expression sours. “So you don’t like every green, then,”

“I like dark greens,” he says finally, still smiling. “Like pine trees,”

“I never thought I would get an honest answer out of you,” you joke, but there’s truth to it. You don’t imagine him as someone who likes to share.

“To be fair,” he says. “It wasn’t like I was withholding information, I’ve just never thought about my favorite color,”

“Well, now you have,” you say. He grins at you, and you feel like the entire city lights up a little more.

He’s quiet for a moment. The moonlight casts over his face in a way that somehow makes him prettier. “If you could only bring one thing to a deserted island, what would it be?”

“God, your questions are so lame,” you tease. He rolls his eyes.

“Just answer it,” he says.

“I’d bring you,” you say honestly. “Knowing you, we wouldn’t get stuck there, and I’d be home in a few days,”

“I wouldn’t get stuck in the first place,” he says. You shake your head. “Honestly, I’d probably bring something to listen to music on,”

“Then you better hope it doesn’t die,” you say. “Good to know the sentiment is equally held, by the way,”

“Would you be able to get us off the island?” he asks, poking your shoulder. You shake your head. “Exactly,”

“I’d keep you company while you got us off the island,” you say. He laughs. Your heart seizes for a moment at the sound.

“What would I do without your terrible jokes?”

“My jokes aren’t terrible!”

“Totally terrible,” he promises, turning over to his other side, facing away from you. “Some of the worst I’ve ever heard,”

You laugh. “Yeah, well, yours are pretty bad, too, y’know?”

“You wound me,”

You fall asleep easily beside Leon. The safety his presence brings is immeasurable, and you’re coaxed into sleep without a second thought. When you wake, your head is on his shoulder, arms wrapped around one of his own. You cling to him like he’s keeping you alive. His breathing is slow, giving away the fact that he’s still sleeping, so you steal a glance at him. His other arm is slung over his face to block out the sunlight peering through the window. Feeling strange, you roll onto your other side. Almost as if he senses you moving, he follows you, caging you into his arms. You feel like your heart stops when he pulls you in, sighing into your hair. His breath wafts down your neck, pulling up goosebumps in its wake. Your heart hammers against your chest.

…

It becomes routine. Until your father deems it safe to return to your own apartment, you shack up with Leon, spending your nights watching television and lying beside him. If he ever notices that you cling to each other, he doesn’t mention it, which you silently thank him for. He goes about life as normal, as if he hasn’t changed the way you look at him.

There’s menial touches exchanged. The grab of a hand during a movie, a palm to your lower back as he passes, the brush of hands when you pass him something. And although you welcome these bits of contact, they often leave you a blushing mess that struggles to even get words out.

He drives you to work still, which you’re becoming accustomed to. He’s there when you finish up. He’s the person you split groceries with–which he only let you start doing after you argued with him for days about it. He’s slowly consumed every part of your life. It’s nice, you think. He looks so domesticated in these instances, like he’s your friend rather than someone to look after you. You like it. You like that he sometimes steals your shampoo when he runs out. You like that he learned what foods you like. You like that he made you a key.

You like him. And that is a scary thought.

It makes you freeze up around him, stumbling between words until you find something to say. It makes you stare at him in awe because you can’t believe you get to be around him all the time. It makes you blush any time he meets your eyes. You feel childish because it makes you that way.

“Gonna tell me what’s up with you, or do I have to interrogate you?” he asks one night over pizza. You’ve been sitting with the plate in your lap for ten minutes.

“Nothing’s up,” you say, lying through your teeth. You’re a bad liar, and he knows it. When you look at him, he’s watching you, analyzing your body language. You know you’re on edge, but you can’t help it. It feels like a sin to want him.

He looks pretty like this, you think. He looks comfortable, wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, no weapons stuck to him. Your hand twitches with the desire to reach out to him.

“So you’ve been acting weird the last few days for fun?” he asks. You nod. “You’re such a shitty liar, sweet girl,”

His voice is gentle; it warms you up. “Really, Leon, I’m alright,”

He holds his hands up in defense. “Okay, I won’t pry. But, I’m here to listen,”

You force yourself to eat, to be normal. You can’t even look at him because you’re afraid of what you might say if you do. He wouldn’t mock you for it, and that’s somehow worse. You almost want him to belittle you, to call you stupid, because that would make pushing him away much easier. If he doesn’t, then who are you to cut him off?

“I can practically hear the gears turning, doll,” Leon calls from the kitchen. You sigh. “If you’re not going to share, don’t be so loud about it, huh?”

You know it’s meant to be a joke, but it makes your mouth sour. He can’t help the curiosity, you know that, but you wish he would back off. It would make your life so much easier if he pretended that you didn’t exist.

“I don’t have to tell you everything about me,” you say. It comes out harsh even though it wasn’t supposed to. “I’m entitled to my own thoughts. Or is that another thing you’re paid to infiltrate?”

He stands in the doorway of the kitchen, staring at you. “I don’t think I’m infiltrating anything,” he says. His voice is even, but you can hear the hurt in the words.

“Then keep it that way,” you say. He inhales deeply, beginning to gnaw on his cheek. You feel guilt wrapping around your throat. You turn your gaze back to the television, feigning interest in the commercial that clogs the speakers. He disappears back into the kitchen.

You’re almost thankful when your phone rings. You don’t get many calls, so when you see it’s your father, you’re less than surprised.

“Hey, Dad,” you say breathily.

“Hey, Dovie,” he returns. “Getting all packed?”

You pause, glancing toward the archway into the kitchen. “Packed?”

“He didn’t tell you, did he?”

“Tell me what?” you ask, sitting up on the couch. You can hear Leon shuffle in the other room. “What do I need to be told?”

“We’re moving you,” your father says, plain as day. “We’ll be finding someone else to watch over you, too,”

“Huh,” is all you say. There’s less guilt around your shoulders now, replaced by anger and humiliation. “Well, if that’s how it goes,”

“I’ll get back to you later, okay, Dovie?” he says. “Get to packing, I’ll tell you more when I can,”

You bid your father goodbye, staring back at the phone screen long after it goes black. You feel your shoulders deflate, allowing the melancholy to consume you a little bit further. You stand, return to Leon’s room, and pull open the dresser drawers where your clothes have resided for the last few weeks. Slowly, almost on autopilot, you begin pulling them out one by one. A shirt, pants, sweatpants, a lone sock; they fall onto the floor with an unceremonious thud. You go until the drawer is empty, the contents piled up on the floor beside your feet.

“I was going to tell you,” comes from the bedroom door. You take a breath. “I didn’t know how,”

“I assume it would’ve been pretty easy,” you say, turning to look him in the eye. He stiffens at the cruelty lacing your tone. “All you had to do was let me know you were done with me. Not like you were in all that deep anyway,”

He doesn’t say anything. You cross the room to the small closet that holds your suitcase. You begin to haphazardly stuff it with your clothes.

“I didn’t want to disappoint you, sweet girl,” Leon says softly, taking a step forward.

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty fucking disappointed right now,” you spit, glancing at him. “Would’ve liked to have known my life was getting upended days ago. Would’ve liked to have known that I was wasting my fucking time,”

“Wasting your time?” he asks, catching your wrist as you push down the top of the suitcase.

“I tried so hard to get to know you, Leon,” you say. He winces. “And to think, that for a fraction of a second, I thought you liked me? I feel stupid. You never cared. It’s not in your nature. You go in, do the job, and get out. When’s the last time you talked to Ashley, huh? Or is that something else you like to keep boxed away?”

He releases your wrist. You continue packing your things, and he leaves the room. He returns a moment later with your nearly empty bottle of shampoo.

“Don’t forget this when you leave,” he says coldly. You ignore the ache it leaves in your bones.

“Might as well keep it,” you say. “You’ve used most of it anyway,”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Isn’t that one hell of a metaphor?” you say before you can stop yourself. “I gave and gave, and you just took. I told you things I’ve never told anyone. And what do I know about you? Your favorite color is green. And even then, it was like pulling fucking teeth to get it out of you. Just keep it. I don’t want it anyway. Can’t put the shampoo back in the bottle, right?”

“I get that you’re angry,” he mumbles. “I understand,”

“No, you don’t,” you say, turning to him finally. He’s staring at you. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t place. “You have no idea what I’m feeling right now,”

“You’re right,” he says. You falter for a moment. “I never once said that I did. I just…understand. I can follow the logic between you and your emotion,”

You roll your eyes, choosing not to respond. Your suitcase finally zips closed, and you haul it off the bed, nearly knocking yourself down. He drives you back to your apartment. He doesn’t say anything the entire ride, not even when you finally get out of the car. You leave the key to his place on the center console.

…

You feel ridiculous. Your heart aches, and for what? A man who never showed interest? You ignore the acrid taste in your mouth that seems to never go away. You ignore the yearning in your bones. You ignore the burning in your chest. It’s easier that way.

He tries calling. You ignore those, too. You pretend he’s a telemarketer, or a prank calling kid, or an old man with the wrong number. You pretend you don’t recognize the number, and that the messages he leaves on your machine are empty. You find that pretending makes the hurting stop for a while, even if it creeps back up when you’re staring at the ceiling at night because you can’t sleep alone anymore.

You cook breakfast more often now, finding that it takes up the empty time in the morning before you go to work. The new guy is nice. He talks about his wife a lot, which you find sweet. You like that there’s no unresolved tension when you get into his car. You just wish you could remember his name.

“Do you know him?” he asks, pointing across the parking lot. Leon leans against his car, watching you pull in. You sigh.

“Yeah,” you say. “He’s friendly,”

“Doesn’t look like it,”

“Well,” you say. “He’s not actually friendly. But he’s not a threat,”

He lets you leave. You can almost see the way Leon stretches back up when you approach. You set your jaw.

“You haven’t been answering my calls,” he says. You raise your brows at him.

“I don’t have to,” you say. “You lost that privilege.”

He shakes his head. “I’d still like to know if you’re okay,”

“I’m fine, Leon,” you say. He nods. “What are you doing here?”

“Just checking in,”

You feel like a fool the second you invite him upstairs. You can’t help it. You want to be around him. You feel safe around him, regardless of the anger. You know he’d protect you regardless.

You feel insecure about the state of your new apartment. You haven’t gotten around to breaking it in, so to speak, so the walls are bleak and empty, there’s a loveseat and nothing else, and a single lamp lights up the room. You wring your hands together.

“Missing a few things,” he says. “Where’s all your stuff?”

“Haven’t gotten around to putting it up,” you lie. It’s more like you haven’t wanted to put anything up. You don’t want this place to feel like a home because it isn’t. This is temporary—as long as you keep telling yourself that, it feels true.

“I’ll get you a rug,” he says, meeting your eyes. It almost feels like a peace offering.

“I don’t need a rug,” you say. You see his shoulders slump. “I prefer socks anyway,”

“Right, yeah,”

He’s silent for a while, just watches you as you set up for the night. He sits rigid against the cushions of your couch, hands clasped in his lap. You grab a frozen pizza from the freezer for dinner. His eyes don’t leave you. You don’t feel uncomfortable under his gaze, it’s almost comforting.

“I owe you an explanation,” he says finally. You almost laugh.

“I don’t need an explanation, Leon,” you say. “I get it. Your job makes you move around a lot. You were never intended to be permanent,”

“I resigned,” he says. At this, you turn to face him. He’s searching your features for a reaction, and you fight to keep them neutral, but you know he can see the discomposure. Heat creeps up your neck, threatens to swallow you whole.

“You resigned?” you repeat, far quieter in order to conceal the stutter in your breath.

He nods. “I did what I thought I was supposed to,”

“And that was leaving me?” you say. He averts his eyes. “How on Earth is that what you were supposed to do? You were being paid to be around me, and you thought you were supposed to leave?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he says, returning his gaze to you. “You have to know that that’s not what I meant,”

“Leon,” you say, leaning against the counter. “I don’t know a thing about you. I don’t know if what you’ve told me about is even fucking true!”

“My middle name is Scott,” he says. You blink at him. “My favorite color is green, that was true. I slept with a baby blanket until I was thirteen years old. I lost my parents when I was young. I used to be a cop,”

He unloads. For the first time since you met him, he lets you into his head a little bit. You take in a breath.

“I don’t…” he begins, then shuts his mouth again. He gnaws on his bottom lip for a moment. “I don’t know how to be…like this anymore. Vulnerable,”

You join him on the couch. He watches you carefully. “That’s okay,”

“It’s something I’m working on,” he says, smiling slightly. You can’t fight one of your own. “I think you make it easier,”

“I’ll be here to listen,” you say quietly. “You know you’re always welcome,”

He grins then. “Whether you want me here or not, right?”

You laugh. “I always want you here,”

There’s something left unsaid between you, but he’s looking at you and laughing at your jokes, and you feel like the world begins to spin again. You feel like the sun shines a little brighter outside, and the colors are clearer, and songs sound like music.

…

You find out that his name is Ryan. He’s more like a personal chauffeur than his intended job, but you like him well enough. Leon spends most of his time on your couch. Things are normal again. He offers to cook dinner most nights, which you appreciate. He does end up buying you a rug–he claims it’s because his feet get too cold without it.

“If you do that one more time, I’m kicking you out,” you scold, swatting Leon’s hand away for the millionth time. He laughs loudly, widely, and it breathes a new air into your lungs.

“I swear to God, sweet girl,” he says between laughter. “There’s something on your face,”

“Then just get it!” you say, wiping your hand aggressively against your cheek. “It doesn’t take a thousand pokes to get something off my face,”

“Hey, I keep missing because you keep moving,” he says, shrugging his shoulders dramatically. You roll your eyes. “C’mere,”

You lean in a bit more, and he swipes his hand against your cheek. For a moment too long, it remains, delicately holding you as if you might break under increased pressure. He clears his throat and retracts his hand. You feel heat creep up in its place.

“You staying tonight?” you ask. He shrugs. “You know the couch will miss you if you don’t,”

He laughs at this. Your heart swells at the sound. “You just like using me as your personal alarm clock,”

“Not true,” you gasp, clutching your heart in feigned offense. “My couch grows increasingly lonely at night,”

He rolls his eyes. “Sure,”

It occurs to you, in that moment, just how much you want him to kiss you. It would certainly make things a lot easier if he did. You’re almost desperate for him to kiss you. The feeling you have for him is akin to idolatry, an offshoot of worship. He’s magnetic, pulls you in in a way you can’t describe. You can see the entire world in his eyes. He is divinity in its most basic form. Whatever religion he’s created, you would gladly follow it until your last breath.

Want consumes you. An insurmountable degree of yearning swallows you, floods your senses, makes you unstable.

“Why did you resign?” you ask. His expression falters for a moment. “You never explained it to me,”

He doesn’t answer, just swallows thickly. You take in a breath like it might be your last.

You wring your hands. “I’m owed at least that,”

“I thought it would make things easier,” he says. The answer is vague, like you’d expected. It doesn’t answer your questions.

“That’s not an answer, Leon,” you say, frowning. “Can you give me a straight answer, just this once? I don’t care if you lie to me for the rest of my life, but, please, just give me this,”

He stares at you, as if he’s trying to get one last look at you. “I wanted to start over,”

Your brows knit together as you watch him. He’s stiff against the arm of the couch he leans on. His shoulders are square, jaw set, eyes forward. It’s been a while since he’s gotten a haircut, you notice.

“Start over?” you repeat.

“With you,” he says, staring into the wall behind you. “I wanted you to know me…differently,”

Your heart hammers against your chest. You hope you’re reading this the right way, because if you’re not, you might just die where you sit. “How did you want me to know you?”

“As a person,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “I wanted you to…like me. Not just see me as a guy that follows you around,”

You smile. “I liked you anyway, Leon,” you say. He flushes.

“I mean,” he stutters. “I mean that…I wanted to be right,”

You don’t know when, but he’s leaned in. You can feel his breath on your lips, floating back against your ears. He’s looking at you through his lashes, all starry eyed and vulnerable. His cheeks are pink, rosy and soft. You want him to kiss you. You wonder, for a moment, what it would be like if he did. Goosebumps surface across your skin at the thought, shivering against the flesh like you’d stepped into the cold. You want him to kiss you.

With a shaking breath, you ask, “Right about what?”

He brushes a strand of hair away from your face with a trembling hand. It slots against the curve of your jaw, just below your ear. You notice that his hands are freezing, but it’s a welcome change in temperature given the heat that resides in your cheeks. You wonder if he can feel the beat of your pulse, hammer strong and rapid against the muscle. You wonder if his would feel the same.

“Leon?” you breathe. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “Are you going to kiss me?”

His breath is shaky. “Do you want me to?”

“Please,”

He indulges. He’s soft against you, sugary sweet and easygoing. He breathes you in like he’ll never get the chance to again. Your hands wind into the collar of his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer, an attempt to fuse into one. It’s a crescendo at the end of a symphony, harmonies and melodies colliding into one final note. Your ears are ringing. It’s a soft collision of warmth and intimacy, lips and hums that finally get to meet.

“I resigned,” he says, panting. “So I could do that,”

You laugh. “You could’ve done that anyway,” you say. He grins.

“Felt wrong,” he says. “I wanted to do it right,”

#fic recs #AAAA LOVE IT LOVE IT SO MUCHFJFD

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