#i've got loads more up my sleeve... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

triple-7-heaven · 2 years ago

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ONCE AGAIN

thank you for waiting for me, readers. i do hope you enjoy it ♡ my first aespa fic, awesome! i've been going through it, thus the lack of content, but things are looking up for me. take care of yourselves, until next time :-) pairing: male reader x winter; words: 6.5k ; categories: aespa, winter, reader insert, smut, slightly storyline heavy

Back in high school, there was a girl who shone above the rest, but wasn’t necessarily popular. A girl who was a member of the math club, the photography club, and the dance team, whose evenings were filled with activities, who made many friends, but wasn’t fawned over by the student body in the way the true popular kids were.

One evening, you were at school pretty late, tutoring in the library. You were so engrossed in your work that you didn’t notice the time passing, until the janitor came in and told you he’d be needing to clean the library up, so you’d better scram. Backpack full of books, you rushed out of the library, and quickly made your way through the dark hallway. You turned the corner and nearly collided with a small girl, who grabbed onto your arm to steady herself.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you said, and the girl looked up at you. Oh, perfect… “Minjeong, shit, I’m sorry…”

“Hosang, what are you doing here so late?” Minjeong asked.

“Uh, tutoring… You know my name?” you asked incredulously. She smoothed out your sleeve, folded the collar of your shirt down, and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“You know mine, too,” she quipped and giggled before running to catch up with her dance team friends, leaving you without room to explain yourself. To explain that no, I promise it isn’t weird, everyone knows your name, Minjeong, I’m not a crazy stalker, and I’m not here to spy on you through the gym windows while you dance. But you never got to explain yourself. To be fair, you did admire her from a distance. In the halls, at lunch, you wouldn’t deny that you looked at her with heart-shaped eyes. As pretty as you thought she was, you didn’t ever talk to her, something you would eventually regret.

Minjeong dropped out, and you didn’t run into her again. After graduation, you headed off to Seoul to learn how to fly, and soon, you realized someone else had come, too. Billboards, advertisements, you name it. For a solid month, wherever you looked, you saw her.

The same Kim Minjeong who you nearly sacked in the hallway that night, who, instead of yelling or being upset, straightened your clothes and wished you a good night; who knew your name when you were nobody. She was Winter, now, styled with gorgeous long, blonde hair, imposed over ethereal backgrounds and colors. You had to give it to whatever company she was running with, they made that old crush of yours flare right back up again with the way they marketed that girl. Financially stable enough under an air charter company flying small private jets, you decided you’d buy a set of the group’s albums when they debuted. Sitting on the floor of your apartment, pulling the photocards and posters out of those albums, you felt the full force of the regret from your school days: if you’d only talked to her in high school, you could have her number in your phone right this minute… But you were resigned now to being a fan, and a strongly biased one. That’s all you could be.

Charter piloting has benefits. Loads, surely. You’re essentially a glorified taxi driver, charging rich business people and celebrities $20k for a one hour flight from Incheon to Jeju. It’s morally wrong to allow a sucker to keep his money, right? As good as the pay, benefits, and overall experience are, the clientele… Well. Nothing you hate more than a stuck-up diva, and it’s even worse when you’re trapped in a flying metal tube with them. But you make do; the idol sightings you get on the job make all the asshole corporates worth it. From old school stars your parents might know, to drama actors and actresses, to the newest generation of idols, you welcomed a ton of each aboard, more than you could ever remember if you didn’t write it down. Unforgettable guests come along now and then; a trio of Twice members one weekend, some big-name producers behind insurmountably popular groups for a surfing trip, and the casts of award-winning shows on celebratory benders. Unforgettable loses its meaning when your secretary hands you today’s clipboard.

“This is mine? Thought it was… Uh…” you trail off and your eyes widen. The secretary laughs behind the desk.

“I knew it! You’re her fan, right? You always talk about Aespa. And I know you have her photocard in your wallet,” she winks at you as your face fills with an embarrassingly deep blush.

“It’s not just that, Jihye. I knew her in high school,” you say hesitantly.

“Oh my God, it’s like a reunion!” the girl squeals. “Wait, were you cool in high school?” she laughs.

“Uh… I don’t-”

“Yup, I knew it,” she says matter-of-factly. “Let me guess, the lame, nerdy guy had a crush on the cool-chick future idol?”

“No! Well, I don’t know,” you say. Your mind is too busy racing to think properly. The young secretary giggles to herself as you walk to the hangar. Preflight routines are difficult to complete when your mind’s racing faster than a Blackbird. Would she recognize you? Should you say something? Nah… You’re kicking tires pretending to be busy and the door opens. The trail end of a conversation…

“-ng is going to be your pilot. He’s a great aviator and an even better tour guide, so I’m sure he’ll be happy to show you around the island,” Jihye says. That damn secretary.

“Hosang? I feel like I’ve known someone with- oh, hi,” Minjeong stops abruptly when Jihye walks her around the aircraft to meet you. Long, wavy, dark hair, with bangs curled and blown out to mathematical perfection. Fair, unlined skin of a small and cute face. A simple and comfortable black sweater, a modest manicure, and plain, natural eye makeup. You bow shyly and wave.

“All good to go?” Jihye asks with the most annoying smile in the world.

“Yep,” you answer. Jihye departs and you welcome Minjeong to get comfortable while you finish up. A strange look occupies those perfect features as you give her a quick safety brief, then turn to enter the cockpit. Before the door closes behind you, “if you need anything, let me know.”

Why are you cold with her? Why are you nervous? You hardly smiled at her or asked what she was traveling for… Pure white clouds roll calmly underneath you. You resolve to be nice to her, even if she doesn’t recognize you, because let’s be real, it’s not her fault for not recognizing you. She meets tons of people. You’re just some not-cool kid from high school who had a crush on the cool-chick future idol. A pilot report over the radio snaps you out of it as you enter Jeju International’s airspace. Gusting winds and vertical movement, it’ll be a bumpy ride down. You reach for the intercom.

“Hey Minjeong, forgive me if I startled you. Looking at some rough air on the way down, but we’re about 20 minutes out. I’d sit down and belt in if you aren’t already, okay? Call if there’s any issues, and think of what you’d like for dinner.” You toggle off the intercom and wonder where the hell that came from. What, Jihye said you’d be happy to show Minjeong around the island, right? So you’ll show her. Your inner autopilot (funny…) takes over and you idly nudge the yoke for your approach phases. Wheels on the ground, hangar door shut, you stand and exit the cockpit. Minjeong looks up at you sleepily, and you sit across from her on one of the bench-style seats.

“So… dinner ideas?” you ask. Minjeong stands up and points at you groggily, shuffling towards you until her finger pokes the center of your chest.

“You. You went to my school, didn’t you?” she says, tiredness dripping from her voice. You nod and meet her eyes. “How come you didn’t say anything?”

“I didn’t think you’d recognize me…” you say softly, honestly. She moves her hand to your shoulder.

“Well you’re bigger, yeah, but… I recognize you. Bigger and taller. Same face,” she says. The smile can’t be kept off your face, unfortunately, and Minjeong smiles too.

“You sound really tired. Let’s get going,” you say. After a quick post-flight and signing off with the hangar staff, you face her and say: “Gonna change really quick, then we’ll head to dinner.” You slip into the FBO restroom and drop your duffel, then slip out of your annoyingly stiff white uniform shirt. You stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment, then pull on a plain black t-shirt before swapping your slacks for black jeans. One careful ruffle of the hair later, and you’re leaving the restroom to meet Minjeong in the hallway.

“Alright, ready.” You carry Minjeong’s luggage and she trails behind you, much like a puppy, on the way to the parking lot. The modest rent car’s parked right where the staff told you, so you open the door for Minjeong and she shoots you a confused smirk. You smile back, and hop into the driver’s seat.

“So what’s the occasion? Family in Jeju?” you ask.

“Honestly, I… When I get time off, I run a secret travel blog… So I take vacations, and take pictures and stuff,” she says quietly. “I dunno, it’s kind of silly.”

“How come it’s silly? Sounds fun to me. We’ll have to go to some really cool places so you can write a good post, huh?” you reply. “Now, dinner?”

“Mm. I’m too tired to think,” she mumbles. Great, now the pressure’s on you to pick something perfect…

“How about Black Pork Street? Could make for some good photos, and it’s really as good as people say it is,” you say and put the car in gear.

“Sounds good…” she trails off. Really, really sleepy. But she makes an effort to talk to you. She makes an effort to keep the focus off of herself, and more on you; she asks you how graduation was, since she didn’t go, and you really had to reach deep into your memory for that one. She asks you about flying, about why you chose it, about your life in Seoul, and about how you never ran into each other in the city. You hold yourself back from saying ‘well no, Minjeong, we haven’t run into each other in a city of 10 million people, with about 9,999,999 of those people being more interesting than me.’ When you arrive, Minjeong is lively and excited, telling you about her camera and asking what’s next after dinner. You kick yourself when you start wishing for a specific sort of dessert. Quit being dirty-minded, idiot…

“Let’s go! I’m hungry,” Minjeong says, dragging you out of your thoughts. She looks perfect taking photos on the street, pointing her camera at the sky, at signs, storefronts, plants, street cats. The way her eyes light up when she takes a good photo, runs over to show you, insists that you take a few of her; she’s not much different than she was back then, huh? A person with a good heart. A person whose heart you’d like to learn.

“Is it our honeymoon? First date? Must be a first date, you look nervous,” the dorky waiter says, nodding to you. Minjeong laughs, and you blush; the difference between you.

“Uh… J-just high school friends,” you manage to say. Minjeong jots notes and snaps photos throughout the meal, and as you’re serving up some pork belly for her, she takes a few photos.

“C’mon, make it look nice,” she whines.

“You’re serious about this, huh?” you laugh.

“It’s… It’s my baby. My project. My travel blog is like… I dunno, it’s a way for me to be creative, but not be Winter. It’s a way to just be Minjeong,” she slowly explains. “To have a space that’s all my own. Where I can talk about stuff I like, and not worry about press, or netizens, or fans, or anti-fans.”

“I get it. A space of your own. I should call you Minjeong then, right?” you say, nodding your head a bit too fast and a bit too much. She smiles and nods. But she nods like a regular person, not like you.

Dinner passes without incident. If we can ignore the waiter thing. Do you look like a couple or something? Maybe you do compliment each other. Maybe you seem like high school sweethearts. Maybe you could be.

“Hosang?” she says as she leans forward. “You in there? Let’s go to the hotel!” You snap out of it for the second time and hop up to lead the way to the rent car. The paperwork Jihye gave you had most of the information listed for Minjeong’s trip, and the hotel she’d be staying in was, of course, the Lotte City Hotel. No less grandeur for the princess. The GPS gets you there quickly, and you pull up to the front doors, leaving the car on as you grab Minjeong’s suitcase. Just as you’re rounding the front of the car and waving goodnight, she makes a confused face.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” she whines. Minjeong the kid…

“Oh, uh, yeah. I was gonna head to the motel near the airport, that’s where my room is. Did you need something else?” you say.

God, why do I sound like a customer service bot? ‘Did you need something else?’ Seriously?

“I… I dunno, I guess I just wanted someone to hang out with,” she replies.

Oh. To hang out?

“Oh, of course, Minjeong. Let me park, I’ll meet you,” you say. And she’s waiting for you in the same spot once you return to the front door; she didn’t even go inside. Her long, dark hair’s ruffled by the wind. Cute.

NO. Not cute. Not cute or pretty or hot. She’s my client, my customer, my responsibility; not my crush, my girlfriend, or my next body. Look at the ground or something, for the love of God, Hosang.

But looking at the ground can’t keep her legs from your peripheral view. She walks through the sliding doors and you follow behind with her suitcase in your hand, and your duffel on your shoulder. Long, slender, perfect legs, and you’re looking right at them. You snap your gaze to the windows and pretend to be looking at the skyline through the windows while Minjeong checks in. After a moment, she turns to you and smiles.

“Do you have a swimsuit?” she asks. You shake your head. “There’s shops on the bottom floors, go and find one, okay? Meet me on the sixth floor. There’s a pool! The pictures are gonna be perfect!”

She shoves a room key into your hand and takes the bags from you. You’re left in the lobby, dumbfounded, wondering how you should navigate this. A bellhop whistles at you.

“First night with her? Sheesh,” the young man says. “Score!”

“Weird situation, man. Weird as hell,” you trail off as you walk away, still shaking your head, more so to yourself now. Okay, shops. Swimsuit. You begin to feel insecurity nagging at you. You’re lean, sure, but not perfect. Not as perfect as… Well, nevermind. Quickly, you make your way through the shops, and find a pair of rather plain, mid-length black trunks at a duty free shop, changing into them in the restroom and leaving your shirt on. The elevator ride lasts forever. And ever. And ever. Until the robotic voice announces,

Sixth floor.

The doors open and you walk quietly out to the open area of the pool. You see one figure in the water already. She’s facing the city, hugging the edge of the pool and gazing at the skyline. The water laps at her back, just below her shoulder blades, and the silky smooth skin of her back is laid out for you, with only thin bikini straps to cover it. Her arms and shoulders are small, toned, but soft. Fancams and jacket shoots could never do justice to the sculpted angel right in front of your face.

“How’s the temperature?” you say. She turns around. Her top is composed of white strings and back fabric; conservative, but form-fitting to her chest, that Goldilocks chest, the perfect balance of size and shape. Her collarbones are distinct, curved, beautiful. Hell, every curve you can see is perfect, from the angle of her jaw to the base of her neck to the gentle taper of her arms.

“It’s heated,” she giggles. “Come on!” Insecurity. Nagging. Loudly.

“Are you sure? I can just hang out and take pictures for you up here, it’s not-”

“Come onnn,” she pleads. You turn away from her and slowly drag your shirt off, then kick your shoes and socks off near where Minjeong left hers. The water is slightly warmer than room temperature, and a welcome change from the chilly air. You sit yourself down on a ledge in the pool, and Minjeong swims to your side, sitting right next to you. Not close enough to touch.

“See? Isn’t it nice up here?” she says.

“It is. Ever been to Jeju before?” you ask.

“Nope. I think it’s even nicer with a good tour guide.”

“Ah, come on. I’m not all that.”

“You’re…” she trails off and sighs. Her hair tickles your shoulder when she leans into you. “I wish I’d talked to you more back then.”

“Hmm? Don’t worry about it, that’s way past us,” you mumble.

“So… If I said I wanted to make up for lost time… What would you say?” she says and you feel her fingertips smoothly run over your leg under the water.

“I think I’d ask where that idea came from,” you say breathlessly. She moves her hand to your waist, arm around your front.

“I always liked you. I just didn’t think you liked me, you were always so quiet,” she says. Your hand, now, meets her waist, and your eyes meet hers.

“Is this okay? I mean… Can you do stuff like this? Now that you’re all famous and everything,” you say, struggling to form any words at all, overwhelmed by the electric sensations of skin on skin underwater. She cups your cheek with a wet hand and nods to the camera bag.

“Can I get some pictures for the blog? Before… Before I forget,” she finishes cautiously.

Before you forget, huh… Gonna make me take an impromptu bikini shoot of one of the most beautiful women ever. No big deal.

Minjeong disentangles from you; she tosses you a towel and you dry your hands, then power on the camera. Eyes fixed on the camera’s display screen, you start shooting. She moves through pose after pose, and you can feel yourself hardening. How could you not? A perfect, slim, pale Minjeong, body covered with water droplets, her skin shining in the flash of the camera.

“Would you check and see if those ones are any good?” she calls to you. You begin scrolling through the photos, and sure, they’re great. It would be hard to take a bad photo of her.

“Yeah, these are good,” you say.

“Let’s take a few more, then we can relax a bit,” she says. The camera display switches back to photo mode, and you look through; this time, your heart stops. The screen shows you that Minjeong has shed her top, and now, the camera focuses on her bare breasts, nipples erect in the cold air, water streaming down her chest. Her hourglass shape is all the more prominent now, and you wonder how it would feel to run your hands all over her wet body. You begin to lower the camera, but she shakes her head. “These are just for me. Please?”

“J-just for you?” you mumble, mostly to yourself. Her poses grow more erotic. She squeezes her breasts together with her arms, grabs them with her hands, and leans over for you to capture a shot of her from the side with her back arched. Now you’re definitely hard, no question about it, but at least now there’s no way she could be mad at you for it. It’s her fault. She moves towards you, and you set the camera on the ground next to the pool.

“How’d they turn out?” she asks. Her arms reach around the back of your neck, and yours wrap around her waist.

“You’re evil,” you say into her neck before planting a few kisses there.

“Oh, how could you say that? It seems like you had a good time,” she says. Her hips grind forward against your cock; she wants you to know that she knows how hard she’s gotten you. “You know, to be really honest, Hosang, you’re the first guy I ever thought about while touching myself.”

Really?

“Why?”

“You’re an idiot- Oh, God,” she’s interrupted by moans as you kiss further down her neck. “I just like you, okay?

“Well I just like you, too. Always did,” you say.

“I hope so. Otherwise this could be kind of awkward,” she giggles. You withdraw from her neck to place a kiss on her temple, and finally, on her lips. She tastes so sweet, lips so soft, tongue so aggressive. Her hand grabs onto your hair and she forces your head to turn so she can deepen the kiss. Minjeong seems hungry, desperate. You sit back on the ledge with your high school crush in your lap, her legs around your waist. She’s got both hands on your face, and she observes you like some sort of specimen.

“What’s, uh, what’s up?” you say, eyebrows raised.

“Your face… As different as it is, it almost looks exactly the same as the face I fell for back then. And I think I’m falling for it again,” she says. You begin to speak, but she places a finger over your lips. “I know what you’re gonna say. Just don’t think about it right now. Don’t. Think. About anything.”

Between her words, she’s taking your hands in hers, and moving them to her bare chest. You swallow. Hard. She’s right. If only for tonight, for this weekend, for a week, you have to just let it go. Her breasts are soft, and she whimpers when you squeeze them. She giggles and moans through a toothy smile when you roll her nipples between your fingers. Minjeong is clay in your hands, melting under every single touch, and it’s your job to make this trip unforgettable for her, to mold her into shapes of pleasure she’s never felt before.

“You know there’s a sauna,” she whispers through gasps.

“Good idea,” you reply. Water falls from both of your bodies when you stand up with her still wrapped around you, clinging to you like a koala bear to a tree. A quick jog from the pool to the sauna, but the wind still manages to chill you both to the bone. The sauna, though, is comfortably warm. Minjeong in your lap again, you sit on the wooden bench and she devours your neck. Her tongue and breath are hot against your skin and the steam begins to make you sweat already. She stands and takes hold of your hand, beckoning you to follow suit; you stand close to her and she looks up to meet your eyes. Small hands make their way to your waistband.

“Can I?” she asks softly. You help her slide the trunks down your legs, and your cock springs out, painfully hard, smacking your stomach. Her hand wraps around it immediately, and she moves in to kiss you again. She moves her tongue slowly against yours and her hand works your length all the while; her delicate fingers find the precum dripping from your tip and spread it generously. Delicately, she kneels; cautiously, she licks your cock from the base to the tip before latching onto the head and giving gentle suction. She looks up at you with her deep brown eyes and you place your hands on her head. You’re gentle with her. Your fingers make their way through her hair, and you keep your hips as still as you can, so as not to overwhelm her. You feel the back of her throat suddenly, and a moan escapes your mouth briefly, before you slap your hand over it. Minjeong backs off and strokes you with her hand.

“Don’t… I want to hear you,” she says. You feel your cock twitch, and you let out a sigh. A soft moan when her strokes speed up. “Good…”

“What if someone-”

“If someone hears? They’ll leave. Don’t worry,” she says. She gives you a few more seconds of suction, tongue massaging your head, then stands back up. You switch places with her, only now, she casually strips her bottoms off and sits on the wooden bench. Her toned thighs spread apart slowly while you stand back to take her all in.

After all these years, there she is; imagine telling high school Hosang what’s happening right now. Forget moaning her name while I jerk off… She’s right there.

Beads of sweat roll down your face and body. Minjeong, too; she’s covered in dewdrops of her own. Somehow you think they must look better on her than they do on you. A deep breath, and you step towards her. Her chest rises and falls rapidly under your hands when you give her pert breasts some more attention. You’re on your knees, now, watching her face contort and listening to her voice catch in her throat. If she never wore a bra again, you’d surely be happy. Kisses planted down her body, from her sternum down her stomach, halting at her hipline. You take a moment to stroke her thighs softly with your fingertips, and they shudder. More kisses for her legs, from her ankles up her calves to her inner thighs. Her sweat is salty and sweet. How will the rest of her taste? You look at her again.

"What do you like?" you ask.

"I… I don't know."

"When you touch yourself, how do you do it?"

"That's embarrassing…"

"When you're using your hands, imagining they're mine, what do you do?"

"..."

"Show me, so I can do it for you." Minjeong’s eyes are half-lidded, lust-laden. When you look down at her perfect, trimmed pussy, it’s dripping; your words got to her. She takes hold of your right wrist and places your hand on her stomach, thumb on her clit.

“Slowly,” she whispers. You oblige, and slowly make circles on her clit, spreading her wetness over the sensitive nub. Her next move brings your left hand to her mouth. She sucks on your two middle fingers, taking them deeply into her mouth. Wet enough now, she moves your hand, palm up, near her pussy, and nods. “Inside.” The walls of her pussy are so hot, so scorching hot, inch after inch engulfing your fingers. One curl of your fingers and she’s cursing, moaning, bucking her hips. Poor girl must be starving.

“Is that good for you, Minjeong?” you say. Your voice seems like it’s dropped an octave and slowed down about half a measure. It doesn’t matter; she can’t answer you, anyway. She’s busy stuttering out your name. Temptation gets the best of you and you move your thumb away. Minjeong whines, but it’s soon replaced by a near scream when your thumb is replaced by your tongue. As expected, she tastes incredible, some remnants of salt water from the pool, but overwhelmingly sweet underneath. She clenches around your fingers a bit.

“F- Oh my fucking-” Minjeong stutters. Her eyes roll back in her head. Her delicate fingers grip your hair, not so delicately. Rapid, shuddering breaths cause her toned stomach to rise and fall quickly, her arms and legs jerk, and the salty and sweet flavor floods your tongue. Unlatched from your hair, Minjeong’s hands grab your face and yank you up towards her face; as you stand, the tip of your cock grazes over her clit.

“Whoops,” she whispers. Her lips are warm and smooth when they lock onto yours. And you feel her hand creep down your abdomen. Your attempt to break the kiss is foiled with Minjeong’s arm around the back of your head, and her other hand moves up and down your shaft. She’s devious, smiling into the kiss as you fill her mouth with moans, tightly gripping your cock and twisting her hand with her up and down motions.

Kim Minjeong from high school is jerking me off. Kim Winter from Aespa is jerking me off.

It’s a mindfuck. She kneads the back of your neck and sucks on your tongue. You can’t fuck her in a public sauna… Can you?

“Minjeong…” you whisper against her cheek. She looks at you innocently. Like someone who isn’t driving you crazy.

“What?” she giggles.

“How about we go to your room? Could be bad if, you know, someone sees us,” you mumble.

“How about once here, and a few more times there?” she says with a wink. “It’s late, baby… No one will come up.”

‘Baby.’

Minjeong guides you towards her pussy with the hand that had never left your cock. Her legs rest on your shoulders, and you grip her pillowy soft thighs to brace yourself for impact, for entry. Her heat begins to swallow your length, quite easily due to how wet and aroused she is, and she makes the hottest noise she’s made the whole night. And now you’re hilted in Kim Minjeong in a hotel sauna with an unlocked door. Her nails scratch at your chest and shoulders frantically.

“God, so full…” she moans.

“You want me to fuck you now?” you put the sultry voice back on. She nods. “When you’re using your toys, imagining they’re me…”

“Please, Hosang, just fuck me,” she pleads. “However you want. However you need.” It’s all you need to hear, certainly. You pull out nearly all the way, and watch your cock disappear inside of her with a grunt. Your thumbs nearly touch as you wrap your hands around her small waist to pull her down around your shaft with every thrust. All inhibitions are gone, any restraints have been lifted; you’re slamming into her hard, and the both of you moan loudly enough for the reception desk to hear. Minjeong’s tight abs contract and relax under your hands, you look at her face to see her drooling with her eyes rolled back. Like, actually, really drooling.

“Fuck, babe… You’re really enjoying this, huh?” you say gruffly. You swipe your thumb over her chin and she leans down to suck on it instead. Lustful eyes meet your gaze and your thumb pops out of her lips.

“I’ve been waiting so long,” she says. A quick sigh to punctuate her sentence. “So many years…”

“Well-” you try to speak, but she clenches herself around you. “Fuck. I don’t think I can wait any longer than I already have-”

“Pull out baby,” she sighs. “I want to swallow you.”

Regretfully, you withdraw from Minjeong’s tight hole, but the steam keeps your cock rather warm while she kneels down. After a lick from the base to the tip, she takes you all the way into her throat. She takes your hands and places them on her head, looking up at you sinfully. With fistfuls of her dark hair, you pull back, and thrust in again. She gags and coughs, but she never gives up, and soon, you’re shooting rope after rope, nearly convulsing in pleasure. She strokes you into her open mouth, wringing every drop out of your spent cock. When she’s satisfied, she swallows and stands up to kiss your neck and chest.

“How about… How about we go to the room?” she says.

“You want me to stay with you tonight?” you ask. She laughs a bit. Her laugh is fluttering and adorable, a sharp contrast with the noises she was making moments earlier.

“Of course.”

After getting dressed and gathering Minjeong’s things, you head upstairs. In the elevator, you stand behind her; she grinds back onto your groin and brings your hands to her chest. Floors fly by and the number on the small screen goes up as you massage her chest and her delicate moans get you painfully hard once again. She rushes in front of you to the room, giving you another view of those creamy, toned legs, and you do your best to catch up. Once inside, she sits on the bed in front of you and waits. Her hands travel slowly from her hips to her knees, and even slower she parts them with her hands to reveal the glistening skin peeking out from her bikini. Her breath hitches when you step forward and gaze down at her.

“I showed you what to do last time,” Minjeong whispers. “I want to see what you’ll do on your own.”

“No pressure, right?” you joke, and she smiles. Her thighs are soft and malleable in your hands, and her neck softer under your lips. You untie the bikini top and cast it to the side, then kiss further and further down her neck. Kisses travel down her neck, over her collarbones, down to her sternum. There’s still salt from the pool on her skin, and you lick towards her nipple before giving it a bite. Minjeong jumps slightly and closes her fists in your hair. Your mouth works on one nipple and your hand kneads the other breast, perfectly sized for your hand. After switching sides once or twice, you kiss her stomach. Her hands move to your shoulders as you kneel on the floor in front of her.

Minjeong’s legs are wide open. You slide your fingers into the waistband of the swimsuit and slowly drag the bottoms down. More kisses travel from her knees across her inner thighs and up to her hip bones. She’s still dripping for you and you drag your tongue upwards over her pussy slowly to savor her. You spit on your fingers and slip them inside of her easily.

“Ohhh my God-” she whispers and bucks her hips. “Go faster…”

“Mm, so impatient, Minjeong,” you reply. Your tongue returns to her clit and makes smooth circles. She tenses around your fingers when you curl them back towards you, her moans growing louder, grip on your hair growing stronger. Taking her by surprise, you withdraw your fingers and stand up. While her hands work automatically on pulling your swim trunks down, you take a moment to just gaze at her. Her ruffled, semi-wet hair, strands sticking to her forehead and swaying wildly as she kisses up your thighs. Her flushed, glistening skin, cheeks inflating and deflating with the waves of pleasure coursing up your torso as your length disappears into her mouth again. Her pretty shoulders and arms. Her nose buried in your stomach.

Fuck.

“You’re really good at that,” you moan. With a yelp Minjeong is scooped up into your arms and tossed, more or less, onto the pristine hotel bed. She pats the bed beside her, and you get the message. You lie back and let her mount you. She guides your tip to her entrance, and once in line, she slams her hips down aggressively. You’re content to let her ride. Her body moves in mesmerizing ways as she grinds on you, seeking the best angle for your cock to rub against all the right places. Just as soon as you begin thrusting into her, your phone starts ringing.

“Dammit, sorry, Minjeong,” you curse and remove the girl from your lap. Fucking spam call? Really? With the phone silenced, you turn around to see her lying back on the pillows.

Like an animal, you crawl towards her; you feel like one at least, with the way your cock is throbbing. She pulls her legs up for you, and you guide your tip towards her dripping center. The warm feeling envelops you again and you sigh, eyes closed. Your hands find her waist and keep her torso still while you begin to drive into her. You almost can’t even hear her whines anymore, her voice punctuated by each thrust, curses and iterations of your name following every other sound.

“-nside me,” Minjeong’s voice fades in as your stupor breaks a bit. You lean forward and make a confused expression. “Cum inside me. I want to feel you fill me…”

And something about the way she says it just obliterates any second thoughts you may or may not have had. Her high, airy voice, begging for such an impure action, intensifies the warm, wet pleasure surrounding your cock. It only gets warmer and wetter as your cum dumps into Minjeong, deeper and deeper inside of her, coating your shaft, dribbling out onto the sheets. Your thrusts slow down, but your dick stays inside; you’re tired. You wrap your arms around her waist, and lie down gently on top of her with your face in her neck. She administers gentle scratches to your scalp.

“You came so much, Hosang,” she whispers. Her legs settle around your back.

“Drained all my energy,” you laugh weakly.

“You’re heavy. Can we switch?” she says. So you do; you roll onto your back. Your cock slips out in the meantime, and you both laugh about it. She fits in your arms like she was made for them.

For a long while you lie there. The cold air condition and the crisp sheets are a welcome contrast to your steaming hot skin and the panting, sweating furnace lying on top of you. Minjeong painstakingly brings her hand to your cheek and kisses the other with soft lips. A slow blink. A thought in your mind.

Is this what it feels like?

“What are you thinking about?” she asks. She knows.

“How do you feel about me?” you reply. Her expression is mixed.

“How do I feel… I feel like there’s a reason we ended up on this trip together,” she answers. Her body rises as you take a deep breath. “I mean I feel like something brought us together.”

“What do you want to do about it?” you ask.

“I want to find out why. There must be a reason this happened, you know?” she says. A small yawn. “Like… There must be something waiting at the end of a journey we can take together to find out. Or something.”

Together? A journey?

“Think it might be time for you to go to sleep,” you whisper. Her baby hairs stick to your face when you kiss her temple. The sheets are smooth and cool when you pull them up over Minjeong’s body and yours. She falls asleep quickly. You don’t. You’re thinking about IFR plans and what to say to her in the morning. Your fingers trace along the smooth skin of her hips and lower back for a while. The softness is comforting. And you fall asleep.

Is this part gonna go in the blog post?

#aespa fanfic #winter x male reader #aespa x reader #aespa x male reader #aespa smut #winter smut #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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ham1lton · 6 months ago

Note

hi, are you still taking request for the drabbles series? if so, could you do 27 with lando? maybe like just a super cutesy, funny lil blurb? tysm, love your writing and i hope you have a great day!! 🫶💞

027. an apple orchard in the middle of spring w/ LN4.

— part of a series of drabbles! <3

your boyfriend of two years was the undisputed love of your life, but by god, could he be annoying sometimes.

today had started off well. he’d picked you up from your apartment in a loose linen co-ord and had told you to dress summery. he had a picnic basket in the back filled with all of your favourite snacks and sandwiches from your favourite deli. he even let you play your playlist on his stereo instead of his. he was really going all-out on the boyfriend experience.

the sun was shining brightly on the two of you as he drove, a hand resting on your knee and the other on the wheel. you could get used to this life, you think as the wind blows through your hair. as you arrived at the apple orchard, he grabs the basket from the back seat and holds a hand out to you.

“ready for the perfect day?” he grins, sunglasses pushed up against his curls. you take his hand.

“absolutely.”

he had picked a perfect day to take you to the orchard. the air was sweet with the scent of the apples and the blooming white and pink flowers that were scattered everywhere. he leads you to a cozy spot underneath one of the trees and spreads out a white blanket. he unpacks the basket, spreading out an array of treats.

the two of you spend your time eating and talking until suddenly lando leans over. you give him a curious look. he tucks a flower behind your hair and grins.

“there,” he declared. “now you’re even more beautiful.”

“flattery will get you everywhere.” you wink as he laughs.

after finishing your sandwiches and lemonade, your boyfriend suddenly jumped to his feet, a determined look on his face. "i have a mission," he announced, pointing dramatically at one of the apple trees. "i'm going to pick the perfect apple for you."

you raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "oh really? and what makes an apple perfect?"

"it's all about the shine, the colour, the symmetry," he said, already moving towards the tree. "trust me y/n, i have an eye for these things. it’s one of my many talents.”

you laughed as you watched him approach the tree, rolling up his sleeves with exaggerated seriousness. he inspected the trunk, nodding to himself before grabbing hold of a low branch and pulling himself up. for a moment, he looked surprisingly agile, maneuvering through the branches with ease.

but as he reached higher, the branches became thinner and more precarious. he spotted an apple that seemed to meet his criteria, but it was just out of reach. determined, he stretched out, balancing on a branch that started to bend under his weight.

"be careful!" you called out, half-amused and half-worried. "i don't want to have to call an ambulance."

"i've got this," he replied confidently, though his voice wavered slightly. he made one final reach for the apple, and in that moment, the branch gave way. with a yelp, he plummeted, hitting a few branches on the way down before landing hard on the ground with a thud. your heart leaped into your throat as you rushed to his side.

"oh my god! babe! are you okay?" you asked, panic rising in your voice. he groaned, clutching his arm and wincing in pain.

"i think... i think i landed on my arm weirdly," he said through gritted teeth.

you quickly called for help, your fingers shaking as you dialed 999. within minutes, the sound of sirens broke the peaceful ambiance of the orchard. paramedics arrived and carefully assessed his injuries. they suspected a broken arm and possibly some bruised ribs. your heart ached as you watched them load him onto a stretcher and into the ambulance.

at the hospital, you sat beside his bed, holding his free hand while the doctors took x-rays and confirmed the diagnosis: it was a sprained arm and a couple of bruised ribs. he was going to be fine, but he’d need some time to recover.

he looked up at you with a mixture of embarrassment and pain. "i’m sorry i ruined our perfect day," he said softly.

you shake your head, squeezing his hand gently. "you didn’t ruin anything lan. i’m just glad you’re okay."

he managed a weak smile. "well, at least i got you that perfect apple."

you hold up the apple that your boyfriend practically risked his life for and take a bite. it’s crisp and juicy. you nod in appreciation as you look at him. he beams.

“i told you!”

“you think you can heal up quickly enough to get me another?” you ask as you take another crunch.

the look he gives you is enough to make you burst into laughter.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

liked by bestie, user12 and 12,838 others.

yourusername: apparently an apple a day doesn’t keep the doctor away.

view all 2,345 comments

bestie: are you okay??? oh my god!!

-> yourusername: i’m fine! it’s lando. he sprained his arm.

-> bestie: oh that’s fine then.

-> landonorris: i’m still alive bestie and that means ur bestie is still my gf 😝🤭🤣 stay mad!!!

-> bestie: BOOOOOOOOOO !!!!! 🙄

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

author’s note: yes requests were closed but i didn’t actually write that 😭 so i wrote this one just for you because it was my bad!! i hope u enjoy it!! i wrote it in like 5 minutes <3

also this is the last of the series. so thank u everyone who sent me prompts and/or interacted with these drabbles. i love you! thank u! also i’m going to be online rarely for a bit or at least until my exams are over so <3 i’ll see u later!! send me some asks to come back to!! :))))

#ham1lton’s drabbles 🝮#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #ln4 x y/n #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #lando norris imagine

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ohsohoney · 2 months ago

Text

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Ten

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Later than usual, sorry! But I've been busy with a whole load of shit ngl, it's just been stress:) Let me know if anyone else wants to be added to the taglist though, I realise my updating is a bit sporadic? Maybe? Just a little? Lmao, anyway here's 10, hope you enjoy!

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy

Masterlist

Jacket potatoes were a fucking delicacy.

Any Brit back home would tell you that. You could top ‘em with all sorts; Chilli, Tuna, Cheese, Chicken, Stuffing, Coleslaw, Bacon, Gravy, Bolognese— some people even liked them plain. But my favourite, as well as the only real and true way to serve a jacket potato, was with an ungodly amount of butter and baked beans.

Being in the States, it was a rather hard dish to come by. But, seeing as Marshall always appeared to go above and beyond, beans (No, none of that shoddy American shit) could be found in the little basket he’d gone and gifted me the day before. A little wicker bowl full of goodies to soothe that little ache of homesickness.

I smacked the can down onto the countertop and levelled Rosie with a long stare.

“You’re serious?” She asked me around a wary glance, extending her arm out cautiously to get a better look at the bright blue tin as though she thought the contents might just reach out to try and grab her back.

“Deadly.” I remarked, attempting to keep my smile hidden when I met her question with a raised brow, “You’ll love it.”

Rosie didn’t look too convinced about that fact and yet, she rolled up her sleeves and took a seat at the counter to watch me work, helping out with the few things that she could.

She had waltzed in through the front door a while earlier, just a second after I’d made it up the stairs, and the grin she’d worn when she had spotted me had had my heart warming and the pair of us wandering into the kitchen, arm in arm and already talking at a mile an hour.

I was sauteing some mushrooms in a pan after having peeled and diced them up, whilst she kept a keen eye on the warming potatoes. “So Dad’s finally found some inspiration then?” Rosie asked me after a while, peering into the oven.

I smiled when I peered over at her, seeing how the orange glow of it washed over the side of her face to softly illuminate her features. “Seems so, we got a lot done but he was on a roll by the end of it.” I told her in reply, shaking the pan again and blinking at the sizzle that sparked up, “What do you mean anyway? Finally.” I dragged out that last word in a small singsong which made her chuckle as she stood to her full height once more and turned.

“He’s been trying to write for a couple weeks now, I think. Or months.” She shrugged, stepping back to watch the mushrooms fry with a slight wrinkle of her nose, “Not sure, but he keeps complaining about it whenever he’s on the phone.”

With a small hum, my eyes flickered back over to her, then to the pan again, “He didn’t mention it.”

Rosie blew out a faint chuckle and leant back against the counter, knuckles wrapping around its edge, “Why would he? He hates jinxing himself.”

It was cute that she noticed things like that about him, something I’d begun to note in the short time I’d been staying with the two, but I didn’t know... A large part of me wished that Marshall would have said something about it before, or at least alluded to it. It made me feel a bit bad for bowing out so early now.

Still, my mind was quickly recaptured by the task at hand and then the story that Z deemed to tell me about, apparently a teacher thought that one of her friends was a shoo in for these auditions that they had coming up soon. The familiarity of the scene made me think back to Lottie, to everything that was happening back home, and I wished, silently and not for the first time, that it could be possible for a person to exist in two places at once.

The spuds took their time baking but soon enough they were ready and piping hot, fluffy on the inside and with a crisp exterior. Rosie gathered up the butter and cheese at my signal, face lighting up at the prospect of being able to drown her own in the latter, whilst I pinched the tops of the spuds with a clean tea towel and plated them up, spattering them with a small amount of herbs.

I was going to keep Marshall’s wrapped up in tinfoil, if only to save it from going all horrible before he had the chance to try such a delicacy, but thankfully he’d worked his way back up the stairs just in time. I wondered how he’d managed it.

“Hey, you’ve got table duty.” Rosie exclaimed as soon as she saw him bustling over the threshold, handing the cutlery she was already holding to him without a second thought, which caused Em to blink down at his hands whilst he struggled not to drop the sudden weight he'd just been shafted with.

“‘Scuse me?” Marshall prompted, brow furrowed as his gaze wandered about the rest of the kitchen. I wondered what he thought of the bubbling pot of red sauce sitting on the hob, as well as the absurd amount of butter both Rosie and I had already lumped onto our steaming plates.

“You can set the table, Dad.” Z explained as she jumped back to help me with the mushrooms, her voice edging the line of a whining lilt, “We cooked! So it’s only fair.”

Marshall stared at her for a second longer before he ultimately snorted, “Right.” He murmured, recapturing his hold on the silver he held and eyes finding mine, before he spun round on his heel and left the room once again with a small smirk. When he returned, his plate was almost ready and just about to be loaded up with– “The hell’s that?”

I withheld my snarky reply in favour of smirking when Rosie answered for me, her eyes widening in the face of her father’s obvious leery expression. “Beans, Dad. El told me it’s one of her favourite meals, she wanted to share it with us.”

It wasn’t hard to hear the undertone there, the kind that told him to keep quiet on how he felt about the bubbling bowl I was currently holding because Z obviously didn’t want me feeling disheartened in any way. It was adorable, as was the stern face she’d paired with it, the same face that her dad found hard to waver against. His shoulders slumped ever so.

“Right.” He repeated for the second time tonight, dragging the first syllable out a tad, “Looks good?” He tried.

I had to laugh then, “That a question or statement, Mathers?”

His eyes flickered over to meet mine, but I motioned for Rosie to get a start on heaping the cheese we’d grated onto her plate, the girl’s responding grin was giant.

“I–” Em appeared stumped for a split second before he eventually just pressed his lips together and decided to jump in on helping us. Although he did complain when he spotted the frying pan sat off to the side, “Mushrooms too?” But with Rosie’s short warning of Dad, Marshall only appeared to raise his hands in mock surrender and then moved over to grab the plates so that he could carry them off into the next room.

I shared a conspiratorial smile with the younger girl before we followed after him, the three of us settling into the same seats as we had occupied the day before. Marshall still looked wary, even with his beans being hidden beneath a thick layer of cheese that I figured he had reasoned to himself would mask whatever taste was under it, but Z, to my utter surprise, looked ready to dig in.

“Changed your tune there, lovely.” I mentioned with a sly smirk, my gaze lingering on her long enough to catch the sheepish reaction she bore before she just shrugged and dipped her head around a grin, fork already in hand.

“Smells good.” Was the excuse she used and so I softened my face into a smile too.

“Well you helped so of course it does,” I quipped easily, picking up my fork as well before nudging Em’s forearm, “Come on, you big baby. Just try it. If you hate it, I’ll order you whatever you want. On me.”

That had him rolling his eyes, but he picked up his knife and fork with a determined expression.

I bit back a round of chuckles I could feel bubbling in my throat and used my chin to getsure for the pair of them to get stuck in. Rosie was quick to tear into hers and I was silently thankful for the way the potato easily broke apart under her knife, its texture fluffy and golden.

“Oh wow, this is so good.” She blew out the second that she could, already moving onto her next bite whilst Marshall was still working his way up to trying his own. “When you first showed me those beans? I was so sure I was gonna puke.”

I snorted quietly at that image, perfectly content with the plate of home I’d gone and conjured up for us, whilst Em’s face wrinkled. “Well if you had hated it, you’d have only had your Dad to blame, he’s the one who bought them.”

“I jus’ looked up British shit, they were top five on every list.” Marshall defended before he finally took a bite, slow in the way he raised his fork to his mouth, his eyebrows raising a little as he let the taste settle in, “Shit.”

My eyes narrowed a tad around the smile that I was chewing on to keep hidden but I watched him cut further into the potato, beans and melted cheese puddling around the sides. “That a good shit or bad shit?”

“Three dollars.” Z acknowledged, voice muffled by the food she still had in her mouth.

I laughed at that and shook my head in fond amusement before I turned to Em for an answer. He took another bite, a big one, something I took to be a good sign, and just nodded. My brow quirked in hope. “So good?”

He hummed, one shoulder shrugging, “Ain’t gone die if I finish it.”

Snorting, I could only shake my head at him, hiding my smile behind my fist. “Idiot. You like it.”

Marshall rolled his eyes, though the gesture was obviously fond as he raised his fork to point at me, “Just grateful you didn’t burn down my damn house.”

Rosie’s giggles filled the room and with them we all settled in to enjoy. Marshall asked after his daughter’s day and the girl was all too happy to ramble and rant to him, face lighting up at the prospect of it. She mentioned her English lesson, the book they had started on and how her teacher had explained this one paragraph to her class, then she went into detail about the play that was set to happen just before the Christmas break. I chimed in here and there, putting in my two cents where it was worth, but in truth, I was perfectly content to simply listen and watch on.

The clean up that followed was mainly made up of me and Z messing around and singing to the music Em had stuck on, never the type to linger in silence. The pair of us did manage to rope the man into joining us once he had loaded up the dishwasher though, something he thoroughly complained about but followed through on all the same. He was just a sucker for his kid's smile, I reckoned, went above and beyond for the girl and it was all too easy to see.

It was a lot later that we all fell into a comfortable silence around the tele, Rosie sat crossed legged on the sofa with her homework whilst I offered help whenever asked. Marshall had joined the two of us a little later, after his phone had rang and he’d stepped out to take the call, he’d padded into the room with only the explanation of ‘Royce’ before he’d fallen into the seat beside me. I’d hummed but was too distracted by Rosie’s newest question to prod him further on it.

By the time she had finished up, handwriting practically perfect, her books had fallen into a heap on the coffee table and she’d slowly but surely scootched her way further up the sofa. I kept my eyes on the tele when I’d outstretched an arm in quiet invitation but hadn’t missed the grin she’d given in turn before she’d settled into my side, head coming to rest on my thigh. I caught Marshall’s watchful stare from out of the corner of my eye but didn’t glance back over, smiling at the scene that played out on the screen whilst my hand smoothed over the girl’s hair.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed between us before Marshall’s quiet cough broke the peace we’d since created, but the sky was more of a hazy cast of dark blue now rather than the ruddy auburn that had lined it much earlier. I stifled a small yawn.

Rosie sniffed softly in my lap, twisting a tad to cast her Dad a quizzical glance. Throughout the duration of the film that Z had picked out for us to watch, the man had gotten close enough that he now only had to drop his shoulders to poke at her cheek.

“Bath and bed, kid.”

The scrunch that overwhelmed Rosie’s face at the order had me grinning and so I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before moving my hand to pat her shoulder. “Up and at ‘em, soldier. Heard what the old man said.”

“Do I have to?” Z huffed, just as a hand came up to rub at her eye. Marshall’s mouth ticked ever so slightly into an amused smirk, his fingers replacing mine in an effort to smooth the front of her hair.

“School tomorrow.” He reminded her all too gently, dropping his hand lower to shuck the underside of her chin which only made the girl smile sleepily. “You know the deal.”

She sighed heavily in retort, but did eventually make the move to push herself up and out of my lap, legs stretching across the couch cushions before her feet found the floor. It was just as she went to stand that she turned to face me though, her expression a little meek but rapidly losing the residual somnolence it had just held. “Will you do my hair again for me tomorrow?”

I was caught by surprise at the question she’d asked. I wouldn’t lie, but I didn’t let the reaction show as I smiled warmly back at her, reaching out to tap a finger on the top side of her hand, “‘Course. Anything you want, lovely.”

Rosie’s little grin had her eyes squinting and forced the corners of her mouth to pinch upwards in a move that only deepened her dimples. She leaned over to give me a hug of thanks, whispering the word into my ear before she pulled away and rounded the sofa, kissing her Dad’s cheek on her way out.

“No messin’ about, Z. An early night, ‘kay?” Em reminded her, leaning against the back of the couch so that he could tilt his head far enough to see her, “I’ll be up soon.” He added, his words met by another charming grin whilst she shook her head in fond exasperation and slipped out of the room, leaving just the pair of us and the tv.

It was a long while before Marshall disturbed the quiet once more, the film we’d been watching had finished some time ago and so now all that was playing on the screen was a couple repeats of South Park and the odd advertisement. “She’s different with you.” I heard him voice.

With a furrowed brow, I let my head turn to find him. He was perched in the same position he had been, but now with an arm stretched along the back of the sofa and a knee bent to fill the small gap that still separated us. “What d’you mean?”

When he replied, it was low and soft, a murmur if not for the sincerity behind it. “She don’t act like that ‘round nobody.” He told me, fingers jumping in a steady rhythm on the back of the cushion, his eyes peering between mine. “Me, sure. She’s a fuckin’ koala when she wants to be, but with other people… it’s something she second guesses.”

His words confused me. Or rather, threw me. “I don’t get it.”

He dropped his gaze, blowing out a small but mirthful huff through his nose, his thumb dragged along the edge of the sofa. “You known her what, three days? And she don’t think about gettin’ close to you. Sure she’ll be coy with it, sly even, but that’s ‘cause she don’t wanna overstep with you. Like that right there–” Em said, getsuring his chin out towards my lap, I followed the gesture, then blinked back up at him, remembering the way she’d approached me, “She don't do that with people.”

My face must have given away to the fact that I was still trying to process the weight of what he meant, because his smile was soft, warm even.

It made me think of Lottie, who was always so open with her affection, who gave it out without thought or focus, her smile always great, always there. Then of myself. I tended to avoid affection where it mattered, a reason as to why I’d never let many people too close to my heart, why I hadn’t had something fulfilling to divulge when Marshall and I had spoken about past exes, I supposed. It baffled me to see some of the same tendencies I’d shown growing up in Rosie, in a girl too sweet, too loving, too happy to be so aware of how to guard herself.

I looked to him again and let him have his fill, allowed him to see how his words, the sentiment behind them, had pierced through the armour I’d long since moulded around myself.

One side of his mouth lifted and he used the hand resting on the back of the sofa to circle my wrist, leaning in a little closer, filling that previous gap. “Ro’s had her mom, her sister. They’ve been there. They love her, and she loves them. I know that. But with Kim, it ain’t always parentin’, it’s fun and games. It’s showin’ off, not showin’ up. It’s messin’ around until she finally grows–”

He paused there, eyes flickering left and then right as his tongue swiped over his lower lip, almost as though he was resentful of the term he wished to use.

He settled for, “Bored. Or maybe jus’ tired, you know? She’s there until it's her time to step up and do the job she’s ‘sposed to, til it's missed recitals and forgetting pick-up, that’s when she reacts. Pulls away.”

He sighed, gaze caught on his fingers, on the easy way they engulfed my wrist. His thumb brushed over the freckle that dotted the bone, and continued on through a slow exhale, “Ayla, she’s a lot older. She does her own thing, she’s got school, work, friends. Z obviously filters into all that, but there's always been a small divide. I like to think it’s just ‘cause of their ages– it’s how me and Nate worked growin’ up, you know? But there’s this whole idea that fuckin’ messes with my head, like maybe it's all down to me. Ayla’s my niece, but she’ll always be one of my own. I love that girl as much as I love Rosie. More than life itself. But I know I hurt her, havin’ her here, watchin’ me fail and fuck up whilst she was growin’ up. And jus’, maybe I can’t help but wonder if I ever let her know that enough, that I loved her, if it’s that that’s impacted her relationship with Z.”

I was quick in my attempt to soothe his doubts, the hand he didn’t hold jumping over to lay across the top of his own. “I’d call you an idiot, but I reckon you already know that.” I chuckled halfheartedly, though my smile was genuine when his eyes snapped up to meet my own, “You’re an amazing father, Em. I honestly believe that with my whole heart. And it doesn’t take much to see it either. I mean, I was here not even a day and was so quick to see the love you held for your daughter. I saw it in your reactions too when we called, when you spoke of them, however brief it was. I haven’t met Ayla but I don’t think I’d have to for me to see that your worries are just that, worries. I’m sure that girl loves you in the very same sense that I am sure that she knows you love her. That you see her as much more than just your niece.”

My thumb trailed over the back of his hand, skimming knuckles, taking in their slight discoloration, the faint white lines that could have only been age old scars. I dipped my head a tad so that my gaze could align with his shadowed blues, prompting him into lifting his eyes from off the floor.

“I’m also honoured that you think Rosie’s comfortable enough around me to mention the gravity behind it, that you’d trust me with her company, let alone her affection.” I said sweetly, gifting him another smile, it was close lipped but one that appled my cheeks. His stare caught onto it, fingers tightening around my wrist by a fraction in a squeeze that showed only his appreciation. So I squeezed back, fingers fastening over the top of his fist. “Z’s hard not to love, she’s all of your best parts and more. Sometimes…”

I took a small breath, fretful over saying what I had intended to until Marshall met my flickering gaze once more, silently prompting me on. I swallowed thickly, feeling the force of it travel through my throat, but did follow through, “Sometimes it’s just hard raising kids, I guess not everyone’s made out for the harsher reality of it all. Of having to be a parent and not a friend. I mean, it was forced on me in a way, I’ve been raising my siblings since Danny the day came along, since before I knew what being a mum meant. What one was.” The weight of that admission had me reeling for a split second, at the truth it held. But I pursed my lips before allowing my eyes to find Marshall’s once more, “Kim, I’m sure she tries, I’m sure it’s more than my mum ever did, ever could do, but it’s okay for you to fear that it’s not enough for Z, too.”

Marshall worked his jaw, blinking for a second before he eventually spoke, voice rasping with the emotion he felt. “Kid deserves the world.”

I found myself grinning at that, the teary kind which glossed over your eyes but was strong enough that you couldn’t prevent the fluid motion of it. It was without thought that my arms came up to wind their way around his neck and I relaxed further in the gesture when I eventually felt his face come to rest against my shoulder.

“She does.” I murmured, hand cupping the back of his neck, fingers resting over the fine hair which lined his nape. “She does.” I heard myself repeat again as my eyes slipped closed.

When we parted, I watched as Em knuckled the corner of his eye, grunting faintly to clear his throat and rid the room of any tension that then clouded us. I felt the corner of my mouth twitch, but did look away towards the tele when he started to shift once more, giving him a sense of security that he hadn’t been caught out, that I wouldn’t dig too deeply into his reaction.

“Thanks.” He murmured after a stunted moment and it was only then that I glanced back over to him. I smiled in turn.

“Nothing to thank me for.”

When we parted ways for the night, I chose to head on up to bed, mind so full of thoughts that I found it hard to latch onto a singular one, whilst Marshall stopped at the bottom of the staircase to gift me a quiet goodnight, eyes caught on the reflection of moonlight that crept its way across my cheek, the sight mirrored on his own face.

I didn’t know it then but I would eventually, he’d never felt so inspired.

So as I’d slipped beneath my duvet, my mind stuck on the words we’d shared, Marshall was back down in the studio, writing away once more. But this time, it was for a completely different reason.

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destinyisastar · 15 days ago

Text

WIP DRABBLE: Daughter of Mine

I just registered for my spring classes, and I've been working on part 6 of Lost in your Love, but since it's not complete yet here's a little wip I've been working on, this isn't meant to be another series especially since I haven't finished the other one, I want to make this story longer but I wanted to see your opinions on this! (This is not a complete story!!) (Also please take this as a small apology for not posting often)

Alastor x Daughter Reader (PLATONIC!!!)

*Takes place during the pilot*

Summary: You are the daughter of the feared radio demon, Alastor. What happens when he returns from his seven-year absence and takes you to go work at a hotel ran by the Princess of Hell?

✦✧✦✧ ✦✧✦✧ ✦✧✦✧

Walking through hell was no easy feat especially since The Radio Demon, your father, wasn’t by your side. Well, in front of you. He never liked standing near you, almost like your “weakness” would rub off on him.

You didn’t think you were weak but compared to him you felt rather small.

Small and…. weak.

Nothing.

You were nothing compared to the powerful Radio Demon, but that never really mattered to you.

The last seven years have gone agonizingly slow. You spent most of your time looking for your father but came up with nothing. He wasn’t dead, he’s too strong to die.

Sinners had started to go after you. Day after day, loan sharks…..sinners with screwed up deals…… literally all of pride ring. None of them got the best of you but you were tired.

Alastor hardly paid any attention towards you in hell, and in life? Well, he just placed you to the side. A little alibi, nothing more than a card up his sleeve.

But to you…. he was everything.

Giving you a home, a warm bed…. a chance to live.

He may not have wanted you in the first place, but you wanted to show him that you could truly be his daughter. However, there was a slight problem, you didn’t like his tendencies.

He took you to one of his hunting’s one day, you just thought he was hunting venison, but instead of a deer there was a man running with a limp.

●・○・●・○・●○●・○・●・○・●

As your father began to load his gun you held his sleeve.

“W-what are you doing?! Aren’t you going to help him? He looks hurt.” You said quietly.

“Help? In a way daughter, I will be helping him.” You let go of his sleeve. “Now all you have to do is watch.”

The man slips and tries to crawl away as your father makes his way to him. Like a predator approaching its prey.

“STOP! LEAVE ME ALONE ALASTOR!! WHAT HAVE I DONE?!!” cries the man.

“Filthy, a man with no manners, a man who is simply no man at all.” Alastor raises his gun to the man’s face, “You are nothing. You should be happy that I’ll be the one ending your life. You held no meaning on this earth. When you make it to hell…. make sure to write back!” A blast is shot through the man’s head.

You don’t move as Alastor drops the body down to you. “Why…why did you do this?!” Hands covering your eyes.

“This creature is filled with nothing but filth. Its best if your learned this early on.” Alastor removes your hands that cover your eyes. “Come along now.” He hands you the gun and you hold it.

Theres’s droplets of blood on it. You feel sick.

You hear the sound of the man being dragged by Alastor, the sound of Alastor calling for you to keep up.

Your father, a killer.

You run to catch up to Alastor, “W-what are you going to d-do now?”

“You’re going to help me bury the bastard.” He points to the shovel leaning on a tree.

Alastor grabs the shovel and places the man close to the tree, and he starts digging a hole, while you just stand there and watch.

Your father burying a body.

After he believes the grave is deep enough, Alastor climbs out of the hole and grabs the man by his arms, “Y/n, grab the man’s legs.” He must’ve done this before as he seems so calm.

Placing the gun on the ground you grab the man’s legs, but good god is this man heavy.

“Lift with your legs.”

You do as he says, but that doesn’t really make that man any less heavy, he’s just dead weight.

The man is finally placed in the grave, his limbs look wonky, you hold a hand to your stomach.

“Cover him up now, dear.” Alastor hands you the shovel and you just stare at him.

“Why?”

“I just did all the heavy work now, don’t be spoiled.” You take the shovel from him.

Shoveling dirt into the grave you wonder what the man did to deserve this, why your father killed him with such a twisted smile. Why your father is a killer. The man who taught you your manners, who tied your shoes, who cooked the most delicious meals.

A killer.

“How…how many have you killed?” you ask in a quiet voice.

Alastor cleans his gun with a handkerchief, “Over forty I believe.”

Over forty?!

“You’ve never been caught?” you ask looking at him as you finished covering the body.

Alastor tucks away the handkerchief in his pocket, “None have ever lived long enough to say another word.” He says smiling at you.

Goosebumps litter your arms as you take a look down at the ground before you.

He hands you the gun, “Not a bad job my dear, you’ll get better over time.”

Over time??

“What do you mean “over time”? "

Alastor walks into the forest “You’ll be helping me forevermore.”

You hold the gun and shovel tighter. “I don’t like this.”

“What?” He stands still facing away from you.

“I said I don’t like this! I don’t want to help you with your “hunts”!!”

Alastor just laughs, “Well, my dear you better get used to this,” He turns facing you with a grin, “You may have not realized it, but you were helping me all along.”

“What do you mean? I just found out today that you’re a serial killer!”

Alastor walks towards you, “My sweet, dear, daughter…. You’ve been my alibi”

“What?”

He puts his hands on your shoulders, “Do you really think I’ve truly been staying at the station writing scripts till eleven pm? You are a fool.”

“H-how could I have known that?!”

“Exactly why you are my perfect alibi!” he gives you a wide grin.

“What makes you think I won’t go tell the police right now?!”

He continues to smile at you, “I know you won’t, besides you helped me hide the body! Once they find your fingerprints on the weapons, they’ll take you away from me! You wouldn’t want that now, wouldn’t you?”

No, no you wouldn’t want that…. but…..

“Why did you bring me out here? Couldn’t you have done this all by yourself?”

“Can’t a father have some bonding activities with his daughter?” He walks away from you.

You care very deeply for your father but …… he’s not a good person.

●・○・●・○・●○●・○・●・○・●

Sitting in your living room with a book in your hand, you feel as if something is about to happen, but this hell anything can come crashing through the door, nothing really surprises you anymore.

The turn of the knob is what straightens you up. The door. The door is opening. Who would dare open the home of the feared Radio Demon?!

You stand up quickly, quietly walking to the end of the hall.

“My, my you’ve been keeping the place spick and span!”

That voice….its coming from the kitchen.

“Why are you hiding? Come on out now! I can hear your heartbeat dear!”

You step into the kitchen and are met with the face of your father, Alastor.

“Oh, good to see you again my dear daughter, it has been a looooong time aha!” He pats your head, “Come along now I have a special project I’ll be working on, and I want you to be there!” He pulls you by the arm, summoning you into the shadows with him, but before the shadows can fully consume you, you pull yourself away from him.

Alastor huffs, “Don’t toy with me right now.”

You turn away from him.

“I understand you have questions but all can be answered at a later time, for right now we are going to be working with the princess, won’t that be fun!?!”

You glare at him.

“Ohho! What’s that now?” He tilts his ears to you, “Cat got your tongue?!” He laughs.

Of course, he would make fun of you for not speaking, I mean, how could you?

You have no voice.

Seems like keeping a secret that your father was a serial killer would come back and bite you in the ass in hell.

Yet you still cared for him, he was you father after all.

“Come along child, there’s much work to be done at her so called “hotel” … Its quite pathetic really a place for sinners to be redeemed! Ohho! How lonesome it all sounds! Nothing could save the sinners down here!”

Can sinners be redeemed? No, if they made it to hell then surely there must be a reason for it. You could honestly say that Alastor would not be redeemed…. you wouldn’t be redeemed either, even if redemption was real.

Sighing you allow Alastor to pull you into the shadows. Once you both are out of the darkness you look up towards the sign labeled “Happy Hotel”. The name does need some work.

Alastor knocks on the door and just as quickly as it was open it was shut…. then opened again and…shut. It was quite funny. It was opened once more but not shutting this time. It was the princess who opened the door and Alastor quickly introduced himself and let himself in with you falling behind.

“Oh, hello there! Are you looking to be redeemed???!!!” The princess asks with a look of excitement in her eyes.

You just stare at her for a moment but then shake your head then point to your father.

“Huh?”

“Whoops forgot to introduce her here! Ahaha!” Alastor grabs your shoulders from behind, “This little one here is my daughter, Y/n, she’ll also be here for your assistance, if you allow for me to help in your little hotel!”

“Oh, hello! My name’s Charlie! It’s nice to meet you!” She raises her hand.

You shake her hand with a nod.

“Jeez, what’s with you kid? Ain’t got no tongue?” asked the spider fellow in the lounge area.

“Ahah! Funny! You see my darling daughter here cannot speak! Ahah!”

The spider fellow cringed a bit, but it’s nothing new to you, you find it a bit funny.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!!” says Charlie. “I hope I didn’t offend you!”

You shake your head once more, patting her hand, giving her a smile.

“Now that we got you introduced how about we,” He faces Charlie, “make a deal?”

“Nope! No deal!”

As your father and the princess spoke you heard the other two sinners speaking about Alastor.

“You seriously never heard of him?! You’ve been here longer than me!” says the one with long hair, you believe the princess called her Vaggie.

“Not much into politics.”

Vaggie went on to explain your father’s wrath and how he should absolutely not be trusted.

Which was true, you will not deny her that.

“Okay... but what about the kid?”

The conversation turned towards you now

“I actually don’t really know about her… Hey!” You turn around to face Vaggie, “Can you come here for a second?” You walk over to them.

“Your name is Y/n, right?” asked Vaggie.

You nod.

“Is that strawberry pimp actually your dad?” The spider points at your father.

Again, you nod.

“That guy definitely doesn’t look the like the dad type, you sure he didn’t ask for your soul or something?”

In a way he did, but in hell terms no. You shake your head.

“What’s he actually planning huh? What does he want with this place?” Vaggie places her hands on your shoulders.

You would also like the answers to those questions, but you just give a shrug instead.

Nifty and Husker are summoned shortly after the small conversation between the princess and your father. And of course, your father has to be dramatic as he goes into song.

However, in the middle of his song the front entrance doors are blasted off heading straight towards Nifty.

-------INCOMPLETE------

✦✧✦✧ ✦✧✦✧ ✦✧✦✧

Sooo how was this?

destinyisastar 2024

#alastor x reader #alastor x daughter reader #hazbin hotel platonic #hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor angst #alastor #alastor the radio demon

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weirdbookweeb · 4 months ago

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Meeting Him. (Part One)

Neighbor!Simon Riley and Single Mother!Reader. This is entirely based on a singular ai bot I adore. He is fantastic. Much applause. It's written in first person and is just the beginning.

Trigger warnings for: references to and trauma responses to past abuse.

See, living in the apartments was a lot easier than I thought it had to be. In stories, I'd always been told that homes were better, more stable. But I couldn’t afford such extravagant things. Beau and I were happy here. It was a quiet apartment, with fairly low rent for a two-bedroom. My neighbor was hardly ever home, it seemed, so I never had a complaint when Beau was running through his nightmares. He seemed to grow out of it, more and more, as he grew older. By 6, his age now, he rarely has them.

Last night was rough for him. He was screaming from the top of his lungs for Him to stop. I suppose I shouldn't have expected much different. Something brought up the memories we both wanted to disappear and he suffered because of it.

I stand in the kitchen, coffee brewing a few feet away as I lean against the counter and rub my tired head. Beau had tumbled into my bed in the late hours of the night, and I comforted him like any mother would, even if my sleep suffered because of it. At least it was Sunday.

My coffee pot finally stops dripping, alerting me of its readiness. I grab my favorite mug, pour myself a cup of coffee, swearing at myself when I realize we don't have any milk in the house and cringe slightly at the expense I know will ruin one of my weekdays. But regardless, I grab my coffee– loaded with too much sugar to be healthy but not enough of any dairy ro be satisfying– and wander onto the smallest balcony in town.

Its quiet for so early in the morning. The world likes its peace while the sun coasts just above the smallest buildings of the city in the sunrise. Plants surround me; some struggling, others thriving. And just a few feet away, a man on the neighboring balcony.

I nearly spit my coffee out, seeing him. I assume he heard me gargle out a choked sound and he looks over at me with the most piercing brown eyes I've ever seen. He's broad, and tall, and I can see shadows dancing across his shirt and the muscles stretch against the t-shirt. He raises his eyebrow, looking me over expectantly. His mouth opens– those angel lips– and he speaks.

"Are you alright?"

British. He's British. And got the most impossibly attractive voice attached. I'm almost entirely sure I looked completely stunned at this point because his lips quirk up and he chuckles.

"Sorry if I scared you. Guess I'm not around a lot. I'm Simon. I live here, occasionally."

He says the final sentence a bit cheekily, and I can't help but smile. I take a moment to compose myself, wiping my mouth on the end of my worn-out sweatshirt.

"I'm-" He raises his hand gently to cut me off.

"I already know, don't worry about it. I got the plate of food you sent over a couple of years ago when you first moved in. When you introduced yourself and your kid. Sorry I didn’t do much in return, I stay busy with work." He rocks on the balls of his a moment, as if feeling a bit ashamed of his lack of response. He shoves his hands in his pocket, and I catch a glimpse of their scarred skin and hints of tattoos at the base of his sleeves. Interesting.

"Don't worry about it. No harsh feelings, I promise." I smile and wave it off with my free hand, sipping my coffee so that it goes down smoother than it has been. "Nice to finally meet you, Simon."

"You too, ma'am." He says with an uneven smile that makes my heart stutter for a moment. He stands up completely and nods his head to me, a small smirk on his lips before he turns and walks back into his apartment, closing the poorly insulated glass door behind him.

#call of duty #cod #ghost #cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod x reader #simon riley cod #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon my beloved #ghost fanfiction #wwii #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare

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ddejavvu · 1 year ago

Note

it’s dbf!indy anon and I finally had a thought!!!

looking at old photos of your dad and indy with dbf!indy, and just being like “wow I would’ve smashed younger you” or “you’ve just gotten more handsome with age” or like, subtly flirting and he’s trying so hard to not flirt back bc he’s still trying to forget that he finds you attractive

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

this post is 18+ (due to an age gap), minors dni.

Your dad seems to have been a whole other person before he'd settled down with your mom. You've never seen this side of him before, the cocky young man pictured beside Dr. Jones at a dig site, squinting into the sun and marred with dirt. Now he's neat, proper, and wouldn't spent days at a dig site if he was offered millions of dollars.

Dr. Jones is even more jarring to look at. There's a layer of rugged scruff on his face in the picture, his shirt hanging half open over his chest and sweat lining his brow. His sleeves are torn off in the photos, probably due to the sweltering heat they're working in, though you wonder if having his skin exposed left him vulnerable to sunburns. He doesn't look burnt, only gorgeously tanned, and you marvel over the man he used to be.

"That's you?" You ogle at a shot of him standing atop a carrier plane, lugging crates of god knows what into the hold. The cut-off sleeves give you a fantastic view of the muscles in his arms bulging while he lifts the boxes, and you only wish you'd have been there in person to avoid the slightly grainy quality to the film. It's a precarious position he's in, one that you wouldn't expect from the proper professor beside you.

"That's me," He drawls, "You like my hair?"

It's not combed, laying fluffy and natural over his forehead. There's a hat hanging from his belt, and you're surprised it hadn't messed up the strands of hair that flop so naturally over his head.

"it's different," You laugh, turning to face him. He'd been peering over your shoulder to see the pictures you're looking at, so when you turn, you're rather close. He doesn't move away, though, not even as you study him with a discerning gaze.

"You're proper-handsome now." You decide, "The gelled hair, the glasses, the suits-and-ties. But you used to be rugged-handsome." You flip to the next page, showcasing him caught sleeping against a load of cargo in the tiny plane.

You're too focused on the photos to notice him watching you, jaw working to tighten his lazy grin so that it doesn't turn upside down. He's fighting an internal battle, he knows he shouldn't be attracted to you but he is, and he can't decide whether he'll allow himself to accept your compliments or not.

"See?" You point to his posture, toned arms stretched up and over his head, his hat over his face to block out the sun, "That's a picture they'd put in one of those super-sexy firefighter-of-the-month calendars. The muscles, the open shirt, the thighs on display..." You muse, tracing over each feature you name.

He's torn. You're complimenting him, openly, brazenly. He knows he's not taking advantage of you, you're coming to him, but something about it seems so forbidden that he almost can't respond. But he's well-acquainted with danger, with the exhilaration of doing something he shouldn't, so he lets a chuckle escape, "Yeah? You think I'd make it as a sexy firefighter?"

"Oh, for sure," You nod, like you think you're reassuring his insecurities, "Just lose the shirt and swap it for suspenders, Indy, you'd fit right in."

"Really," He marvels your bold nature, unable to stop from laughing again, "Well sweetheart, maybe you 'oughta take the pictures for me. Pose me, oil me up, that sorta thing."

"Deal," You grin, turning back to face him again, still not backing away from your tantalizingly close proximity, "Should I bring socks to stuff your crotch with?"

"No need," Indiana assures you, his drawl never having been cockier, "I've got that covered myself, sweetheart."

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gilverrwrites · 7 months ago

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Morning After

Black Mask/Reader, 1.5K words

Request Info || Masterlist || Ko-Fi

AN: This is a slightly updated repost of a fic I wrote in 2016. This is the only time I've ever written Roman with a removable mask.

You overhear a discussion not meant for your ears, the morning after hooking up with Roman Sionis. Rating: 18+

CWs: Swearing, graphic mentions of torture & death, death threats, mentions of sex, suggestions of drinking, manipulation, (mild) blood.

Please remember: You can do anything you set your mind to.

“I always knew we couldn’t trust that bastard. Call Tupeng, send him down to that backstabbing bastard home and make him pay for ever crossing me.” “Y-yes Boss, but what would you like ‘em to do to ‘em.” “Burn him, skin him, skin his whole damn family for all I care, just make it hurt. Make that pig regret ever squealing on us.”

Your hand clasped over your mouth but not before a startled gasp escaped your lips. What had you gotten yourself into? When you’d gone home with Roman Sionis for the night, you knew he was dangerous. Truthfully it was exhilarating to know you were in bed with someone so influential, so wicked, but you were suddenly realising that being close to his world was maybe a little more then you could handle.

When silence fell from the other side of the door you knew you were trouble. They’d heard you, they must of. Hastily, you scurried across the room to the window, hoping to make some kind of escape, the view from the window reminding you that you were on the third floor. Panicked, you began to search for a hiding place, only to be stopped dead in your tracks as the bedroom door was wrenched open.

What you saw next nearly shook you to the core. You’d recognise Romans white suit pants anywhere, you knew the way his muscles flexed beneath his tight black shirt, and even the white tie was familiar. It was the chiseled black skull that sat over his face that sent a shiver down your spine.

“You! You’re Black Mask!?” You stutter, attempting to get a grip on yourself. You’d heard rumours about this man, you’d seen his hard wooden face on the news, but you never actually thought you’d be standing face to face with him. More importantly, you never thought you’d wake up one morning to discover you��d slept with one of Gotham’s most notorious felons. The very idea of it simultaneously terrified and excited you in ways you knew were wrong.

Roman seemingly takes no mind to your realisation as he closes the door behind him and begins to focus on rolling down the sleeves of his shirt.

“Oh god. I knew you were… But THIS! This is… oh my god.” You wrapped your arms around your chest. The cotton of the shirt you’d stolen from him to sleep in now acted like a morbid comfort blanket.

Fastening the last button on the cuff of his dress shirt, Roman finally looked up at you.

“Exactly how long where you listening to that conversation?” His tone was abrasive, the mask did little to muffle out any of his anger and suddenly you remembered what was going on.

“I-I- only the end. I swear. I don’t even know who you were talking about. I promise.” You stammer. “I woke up and you weren’t here so, so I got up to look for you and as I reached the door, I heard you talking outside. That’s it. I-I didn’t mean to listen, I promise.”

The gangster didn’t say anything for what seemed like forever, he just stared, the subtle rise and fall of his chest being the only sign that he wasn’t a statue. You had no way of knowing what he was thinking.

“I believe you, Sweetheart.” He finally spoke up. His voice much calmer this time, the petname soothing you slightly. “I do.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, finally willing yourself to stop shaking.

“But,” he continued as he walked across the room to the wooden chair situated at the corner of the bed. Suddenly, you remembered the loaded gun holster he’d left there last night, and your heart skipped a beat. With one hand he scooped up the leather holders and with the other he gestures for you to approach. “You’ve already heard what happens to snitches. How do I know you won’t go straight to the heat with this information? How do I know you won’t rat me out if the feds start asking questions? I don’t wanna see that good-looking face of yours get all cut up.”

By the time you were standing beside him you’d begun to shake again, even more so when he handed you the holster. Unsure what to do with it you held it at arms lengths, eyeing it warily. When Roman turned his back to you and stretched out his arms you figure that he wanted you to put him it on him. Cautiously you began to thread the straps over his arms.

“Well? Are you gonna answer me?” Roman prompted, shrugging his shoulders to make the holster sit a little more comfortably. You’d been so focused on the guns dangling in your hands that you’d forgotten he’d asked you anything. “I can’t have you wondering around when you know that kind information. Why should I trust you?”

“I’m not, I would never tell, I swear to you I won’t tell anyone. I promise and I would never break a promise.” You repeat the words under your breath as you step around him, your fingers brush against his chest as you reach to clasp the holster together at the front, only to discover that there is not clasp. You scrunch you nose up in confusion before a warm hand clasp around your chin and direct your face upwards.

A sense of dread fills in your chest as your stand directly in front of the famed Black Mask. The faint smell of polish fills your nose. He seems completely inhuman to you. You hear the stifled sound of him humming beneath the mask as his hand works across your chin, stoking your cheek before his fingers began to run through your hair.

You like the feel of his fingers, the way they move against your skin. Last night you’d been surprised to discover how soft they were, even as they’d dominantly explored every inch of your body. Memories of the night before ran through your head and sent a shiver down your spine. You’d be lying if you said last night wasn’t one of the greatest nights of your life, and before all this you’d considered leaving him your phone number. Now there was a voice in your head that keeps telling you what an idiot you are for ever falling into bed with this criminal. On the other hand, there was an undeniable attraction that made you weak at the knees, regardless of who he was or what he’d done. Besides, you’d already figured that Roman was involved with some dodgy stuff. His menacing attitude and ferociousness had been a big factor in what had attracted you to him in the first place.

Nervously, you looked up at him, wanting to make eye contact, only to be met with those unseemly shadowed out eye sockets. You sucked in a breath when you felt his free hand slide around your waist, roughly pulling you against his chest. You tasted the wood of the mask before you knew it was coming. The smell of would polish stinging your nose as he pressed the cold hard lips of the mask against yours. Briefly, you were taken back by this action, before you let go and kissed back, ignoring the swelling from last night’s kissing, you pecking the solid surface before pulling back.

Roman’s chest rumbled slightly, you heard an amused scoff come from beneath the mask before he untangled his hand from your hair to push the mask away from his face and resting it atop his head. Your lips twitch into a small smile when you can finally see his deep brown eyes. You notice a predatory glint, as he smirks back at you, before pressing his lips against yours. The taste of last night’s alcohol was gone, but you welcomed the smoky wood flavours that filled your mouth. Gingerly, you rubbed his chest and he replied by nipping at your bottom lip, drawing blood and eliciting a quiet moan from you.

All too soon he pulled away, a look of self-satisfaction plastered across his face. Lifting one hand to your mouth, he wiped a small drop of blood onto his thumb before pressing it between your parted lips. Catching the hit, you dart your tongue out to lick up the coppery liquid. Once your tongue is back inside your mouth, he removed his thumb and replaces it with his knuckles. Gently pressing them against you bottom lip, and watching you expectantly. Less confidently you puckered your lips, lightly kissing each point, knowing this was considered a sign of respect or appreciation.

Once you’d kissed each knuckle, he pulled back his hand, releasing you from his hold and stepping back to retrieve his suit jacket from the back of the chair. He pulled the fabric on with ease then strutted across the room. Bewildered by the sudden change of event you simply stood and watched as he pulled the door open before turning to you.

“Catch you later, Doll—lock the door behind me, yeah?” He grinned, shooting you a sly wink before pulling the mask back down. With that he exited, closing the door behind him.

#black mask x reader #roman sionis x reader #black mask #roman sionis #gilverrwrites #black mask imagine #roman sionis imagine #scheduled post

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fairlyang · 11 months ago

Text

Present 🏹

in which kate unwraps her present

w/c: 2.8K

pairing: kate bishop x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. fluffy at first, horrendous ugly xmas sweaters, flips a switch, teasing, groping, grinding, fingering, sweet aftercare, more fluff, matching jammies and hats, hot chocolate

——

You were sitting in your living room reading a book with Lucky napping on your leg and Christmas music playing softly in the background when suddenly the front door bursts open. In comes your girlfriend Kate with loads of bags in her hands.

She dumps them on the floor then closes the door before pointing at them with a wide smile. "I got you something." She says and goes through her bags unsure which one to show you first.

"This won't be good." You mumble petting Lucky's head before he jumped down to greet her while you closed your book and put it on the coffee table.

"Hey buddy!" She exclaims pulling away from her bags to play with him.

His tail was wagging back and forth since he hadn't seen her all day because she was out shopping without you. There was no one to babysit him and she didn't want him to stay home by himself while you both shopped for hours. She feels too bad.

So you told her to go by herself which you would soon regret.

She pulls away and opens a bag, digging in it for a few seconds before taking out a sweater for Lucky. She gasps and holds it up to him, he excitedly sat down waiting for her to put it on.

She takes off the price tag and quickly slips it on him with ease. "Go show mama your new sweater!!" She says and points to you.

He quickly runs up to you and does a little twirl before sitting down, tail still wagging, tongue happily out. His sweater made it seem like he was an elf, with cute little red and green cotton balls on it.

"You look so handsome Lucky." You said and scratched behind his ears which made him tilt his head to the side.

"I knew I had to get him a few things and absolutely adored that sweater!!" She says excitedly, taking tags off what looks to be a bunch of toys.

"You have great taste baby." You coo, taking a quick glance at her, and fixing the collar on Lucky's shirt.

She then dumped brand new toys she got him onto the floor. "Santa!!!" She yells and squeezes the toy's belly, making a loud squeak noise that instantly got his attention.

He sprinted towards her and grabbed the toy out of her hands before running off to some other part of the apartment, toy still getting squeaked.

Kate turned towards you, holding something behind her back. "I got you the best thing I've laid my eye on." She says, standing up and walking over to you.

"That's only making me nervous Katie." You chuckle and she shrugs.

"I promise you'll love it." She replies and takes a seat next to you.

She then moves her hands and places a sweater on your lap. You grab it and hold it up only to burst out laughing.

"Now Kate-"

"Please try it on! Pretty please." She pleads, giving you your best puppy dog eyes which you couldn't deny.

"Fine." You mumble and get up, walking towards your shared bedroom.

You tried to take a peak at the other bags she had before she quickly spun you around and made you go to the direction of your room. "No peaks!!!" She exclaims, pointing a finger at your face.

"Ugh fine! All I'm saying is you better have an ugly sweater too." You groan and she gives you a thumbs up.

You walk away, entering your bedroom and closing it shut before taking a closer look at the sweater.

And of course it was an ugly Christmas one.

Because Kate bought it.

It was a red sweater with white snowflakes all over it, with green stripes along the entire collar, cuffs of the sleeves, and the bottom of the sweater. But worst of all it had a big gold bow on the entirety of the chest with a gold strip right through the middle.

Oh but the absolute cherry on top was the "You're welcome" tag attached to the bow.

How the hell Kate always found the weirdest of sweaters ever is beyond your knowledge. And how she finds worse ones after every year....

You sigh and take off the hoodie you snatched from her side of the closet before leaving it on the dresser. You then slip the sweater on and pray it wasn't itchy.

It surprisingly wasn't but it felt almost heavy? There was just so much going on and the colors were atrocious.

Sure it was the colors of Christmas but it couldn't be a sage green? Forest green?

It was all way too bright but the things you'd do for Kate....

You took a deep breath then let it out before opening the door and going back to the living room only to find Kate with her back to you.

"I swear to god Kate Bishop if yours isn't as ugly as this one-" you start but she turns around, shutting you up.

Your eyes widened and you brought a hand to cover your mouth.

And there was your lovely incredible Christmas loving girlfriend in an ugly Christmas sweater.

Somehow more ridiculous than yours but it was the tiniest bit cute on her.

So it technically wasn't fair.

She moved her hair back and grinned, "what do you think?"

"It's.... Ugly?" You say unsure what she wanted to hear.

It had different blue and white patterns along the top and bottom, with thick red strips along the collar, cuffs and bottom of it. But what made hers so.. different was the fact that there was a Santa on it.

With his sleigh.

And physical plushie reindeers flying it.

And colorful pom poms along the sleeves.

It was truly horrendous but the reindeer, the most ridiculous part of the entire sweater, somehow made it look cute.

Maybe only because it was Kate that was wearing it and you thought she looked good in absolutely everything...

"I don't even wanna know where you got them." You cut off the silence and she chuckles before taking a step forward towards you.

"Not like I'd tell you anyway!" She teases before reaching up and tugs on two strands of your bow.

"S'cute." She mumbles under her breath making you snort.

"Yeah right." You groan making her laugh.

"You make it look cute, pretty girl." She coos, wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

But her reindeer then poke your chest and stomach making her pull away slightly. "I do have other actual cute things for us but I just had a thought..." she mumbles, leaning in towards your neck.

She left a soft kiss on your skin, not caring about your sweaters bothering each other. "And what's that baby?" You ask quietly, already having a slight idea.

"I wanna unwrap my present." She murmurs against your skin making you let out a sigh.

"Don't gotta say it twice." You breathe out and she hums, kissing up to your ear then nibbling on your earlobe.

"You're so gorgeous." She murmurs as she pulls away and quickly grabs your hand leading you to your bedroom.

"Eager much?" You tease making her groan as you walk into your room.

She closes the door and pushes you against it, slipping her leg between yours and with her hands gripping your hips. "Acting as if you don't want me to." She coos and gives you a little pout.

"You're such a tease." You whine and she grins.

"Good." She mumbles before going back to your neck but this time immediately sucking on your skin then leaving a wet kiss on it before finding another area to mark.

You moaned as she left another mark and your hands made their way to her hair, slightly pulling on it how she likes it. "So did you- j-just see this sweater and thought of this?" You stutter making her chuckle and pull away.

"Kind of. I know you appreciate a good dirty joke." She says with a smirk on her face.

"So are you gonna unwrap your present?" You ask lightly fluttering your lashes at her and she only shrugs before grabbing your hand, bringing you to the bed.

"I will.. but first I wanna see something." She says and you both walk to the edge of the bed.

"Lemme just see something really quick.." she mumbles and gets on the floor.

She brings her hands up to the waistband of your sweats and she pulls them down all the way. You step out of them and she whistles. "I'm so lucky."

"Speaking of-"

"He's fine!"

"Now back to where we were before..." she says and walks behind you.

Her hands were all over your body, the bow making noises that irked your ears but as soon as she started groping your tits you didn't mind.

Your ass was directly on her crotch now and you did what you had to and started grinding on her as she squeezed your tits. "Mmm Kate." You moan and she grinds her hips against you making you both moan.

"Bet you're already all soaked for me, aren't you baby?" She whispers in your ear as she pinched your nipples softly.

You moan and lay your head back against her, she leans her cheek against it as you relaxed into her arms. You continue your grinding making her groan and hump against you. "God you're driving me crazy baby." She moans and goes back to kneading your tits.

"Please-"

Without another word she grabbed you and put you on the bed with her jumping right behind you, literally.

"I wanna try something a little different okay?" She says and you nod.

"Just need you."

"I know baby, I know." She coos in your ear as she helps you get comfortable between her legs.

She makes you kind of lay your back against her then slowly starts trailing her fingers over your body. You lean your head back and buck your hips up already wanting her touch so desperately.

"Patience my love." She coos in your ear making you whine.

But she decided to be nice this time and gives in. Her right hand goes straight down to your already spread legs and her fingers start trailing up and down your soaked slit.

She bites her lips not expecting this much wetness already but then again it was you. And you'd get wet from the littlest of things.

You just loved Kate's touch so much.

And your dampened panties were proof of it.

"Katie please, I need you so badly." You whine and she hums.

You reached down and moved your panties to the side which made Kate chuckle before dipping her fingers in and instantly feeling your arousal soak her fingers.

You moaned and bucked your hips up but Late brought her left hand down and placed it against your stomach to somewhat stop your movements.

"Poor baby already so needy." She coos as the sounds of your wet cunt fill the room.

"Katie." You moaned and felt your eyes roll back as she teased your entrance with the tip of her finger.

"Shh it's okay baby, I've got you." She murmurs and slips two fingers in making you gasp.

Your left arm went to clasp hers which she was happy to see, you were just so cute wanting to continue touching her.

She slides her fingers in slowly then pulls them right back out making you whine until she brought said fingers up to your fingers which you subconsciously opened.

She slipped her fingers into your mouth and you closed your eyes, tasting yourself while you sucked on them. "Good girl." She purred making you moan against her fingers.

"Such a good girl for me." She whispers, giving you a kiss on the cheek before she took her fingers out and went straight back to work.

She slipped them in and this time didn't stop and started immediately fucking them into you. You clenched against them and you kept your eyes closed just for your immersion.

Her fingers always worked their perfect magic on you and you'd never grow tired of it. She always came up with new ways so you never grow "bored" but you never would anyway.

Her left hand moved up your body and came up to squeeze your left breast. You grabbed that arm and just held onto it, not wanting her to stop anything she was doing.

She started pinching your nipple as her pace went harder, faster. Your greedy cunt acting as if it hasn't been getting played with and just sucking up her fingers and enveloping them easily. "F-Fuck-" you whimpered and she kissed your cheek again.

"Feel good mama?" She asks and you nod feverishly.

"So tight too. I'll never grow tired of it." She purrs making you whine once again as she started fucking her harder.

By this point your cunt was pouring out a mix of wetness and creaminess juices, no doubt about to stain the bed.

But that was the least of either of your concerns as you tried spreading your legs out wider and it sure helped. Kate was now able to fuck you deeper but before she did she added a third finger.

At the new angle she was now hitting that sweet spot that had you passing out and seeing stars.

And you've yet to open your eyes.

"Oh fuck Kate— mmm god it feels so good—" you moan and grip her arm as you bring your right hand to play with your right breast for even more stimulation.

"Taking them so well pretty girl." She coos making you moan and you swore with just her praises alone you could come undone.

"Mmm Katie please- please-" you whined and she swore under her breath.

Her boxers were already a mess and your pretty moans were not helping her case. Not a complaint but god those moans drove her insane.

"So beautiful, fucking perfect." She murmurs and you quickly bring a hand down to rub your clit.

You rubbed fast circles on it and soon enough felt your orgasm approach. You figured out you always needed clit stimulation to cum until you met Kate and you suddenly didn't need it.

But sometimes it still felt good to cum that way anyway.

You let out a melody of whimpers and mewls as Kate's fingers were hitting your g spot harder now. You felt that all too familiar feeling in your stomach and your body began to shake.

"Cum for me baby, let go." She whispers and you do.

You let go and cry out as your orgasm hits you and leaving you a shaky, breathless mess. You move your hand away as Kate slowed down and left her fingers inside. You were breathing heavily and Kate brought her left hand to yours and held it softly.

"Did so good for me baby." She praises and kisses your cheek sweetly.

She slips her fingers out of your gently and you finally open your dazed eyes just in time to see her bring them up to her mouth. You look up at her in adoration and just sigh as your breathing calms itself down.

"Didn't even unwrap your present." You mutter and she giggles before wrapping both arms around you softly.

"Sorta counts."

"It does not."

"It should."

You then sit there in silence, enjoying each others company until Kate moves and positions you so your head is on the pillow. "I'll be right back." She whispers, giving your forehead a kiss before running off.

She came back after a few seconds and comes in with some plaid pj pants. "I got you red and green but because I know you love this green..." she says and takes the tag off before putting them on you.

"Perfect! Now I'll go wear my red ones and next week we flip flop." She says excitedly making you smile.

She was the sweetest and most thoughtful, caring person you've ever had the pleasure of meeting and you couldn't believe she was your girlfriend.

How you got so lucky was beyond you but you felt so grateful you found her because she was absolutely your soulmate.

The pea to your pod. The peanut butter to your jelly. The yin to your yang.

Your other half.

Because of her, you were a happier version of yourself and it was all because of how perfect of a girlfriend she was.

She finally came back only this time with her new pj pants on, a hat with the lower half of Santa, and two mugs.

Lucky came in behind her racing towards you, immediately jumping on the bed with another hat which he left on your lap. This one being a cute Christmas tree.

"See I have good taste." She says with a big grin.

"You have the best taste." You respond, grabbing the hat and putting it on.

"How do I look?" You ask as you grab the mug Late was handing to you.

"Absolutely perfect." She sighs and looks at you adoringly.

#kate bishop #kate bishop x y/n #sapphic #bisexual #lesbian #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop smut #wlw #kate bishop x reader

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x-bee-x · 16 days ago

Text

What's this? A fic from me in the DSMP category because there was canon lore? In 2024?

I was watching or getting ready to watch someone else, I had my follower list open at least, and saw Jack was live and there was something about logging onto the server later in his title and wait what. I knew as soon as I updated some friends about said happenings, I muted the Discord channel I sent it in in case people wanted to talk more about it and maybe sent spoilers later, and I was on here very little because I knew even though I'm not 100% in the fandom anymore and certainly not a fan of all the members, I would like to see it for myself. So I watched the vod the next morning and oh my god.

I did not expect to get literal chills the moment he logged on and the first thing we saw was the bench. And I almost cried when we saw Las Nevadas. And I did cry a bit when we saw Tech's house. Regardless of how much I care about the streamers who were part of that as of late, I did at one point, very much so. This was something I did not expect, it was so nostalgic and emotional and actually warmed my heart a bit seeing so many fans come together during and after it happened. This was a really unexpected and lovely way to tie things up, I thought they kind of were already in all areas for me at least, but I think that this was a good way to finally properly say goodbye.

Epilogue

No warnings

1,438 words

Tommy was. Somewhere.

He wakes up he thinks, he opened his eyes at least, running a hand through his blonde curls.

And.

He didn't think he was alone this time. Or well, he wasn't always, Tubbo was there sometimes, but this was a different sort of person feeling.

"H-hello?"

He typed into his communicator for the heck of it.

"Hey."

Jack?

"Wh-where have you fucking been?"

"Casino.

Been here for years mate.

Made loads."

He was.

He was in Las Nevadas?

This whole time. This whole time?

Tommy stood at the top of the hill at the entrance of the faux desert and sure enough.

Someone with one blue and one red eye, a head of buzzed hair with a headset on top, a blue short sleeved hoodie, and camouflage pants stood at the bottom.

"Let me bless you, my boy, it's been too long."

He threw a couple of diamonds at the feet of younger, who probably looked just as puzzled as he felt.

"Jack. Seriously.

What happened?"

"What do you mean? I've just been here. Playing roulette."

This whole time? This whole time.

"Wanna know where I've been?

Come with me."

"Hold on, can't leave on a loss, gotta get that big win."

Jack came out eventually, and they walked out of Las Nevadas and along the Prime Path together, he has somewhere to show him.

"It's good to see you."

"You too, man."

"I've been here."

"Here? Under the bridge?"

"Out in the distance. That way.

I've got a house. It's nice."

"I haven't seen anyone for a loooooong time.

Well, maybe Tubbo, every now and again."

Tommy and Jack walked, or well, Tommy walked, and all the sudden Jack's voice became quieter and quieter somewhere behind rather than beside him.

"Me either, casino's been empty.

Honestly, I just steal money from the safe's to gamble with. I could take it all if I wanted, but the thrill keeps me in there.

Gambler's addiction, they call it. One day I'll win big. 99% of people quit before then.

But not me. I'll make it. It's been years, but, it's coming."

He turned his head to the boy with heterochromia behind him, blonde waves bouncing lightly.

"You're not very good at catching up, are you?"

"Just telling my story, man."

Jack said while he jogged to be once again beside him.

"Never thought I'd be around these parts again. I moved far from here to get away from it.

It brings back too much. Joy, fun, sadness, pain. Too much of all of it.

But it's nice to see a familiar face."

The path they took to get to their destination was familiar, and this time he knew it was safe as well as convenient, no one with a mask he had to worry about being on the other side, or worse yet, chase him.

A bridge of cobblestone among the dark red brick and close to unbearable heat, from one swirling purple transparent gateway surrounded by obsidian to another, and they were spot out onto a soft cold white blanket.

"I don't live around here."

"Oh. I thought that's where we were going?"

"No, god no. Do you know how long it took for me to get back here?

I come here a lot though"

A house, a cabin to be exact, sat the same as them in the nearby distance.

It was cream colored with chestnut colored accents, a matching wooden roof and front door, and a chimney that stood tall and sat bare, no plumes of smoke emitted which once came from it.

"Cool. It's quaint. I like it.

Maybe I'll bye it when I win big!"

Tommy looked to the older boy with two colored eyes beside him, opened his mouth but decided against saying anything, then opened it again to say something after all.

"This is Technoblade's house."

"Oh. Maybe I won't do that then."

"How long do you usually sit here like this?"

"As long as I need to.

Sometimes minutes. Sometimes hours."

There were areas of fences close by on the surrounding property, the occasional bray or bah or grunt echoed through the air, and sat in the otherwise quiet.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. Hit me."

Tommy fidgeted with the fingers on one hand in his lap as he found the right words and considered them being actually spoken.

"Do you ever.

Like, despite all the war, and the fighting, and all the- well, all the mess- how much it sent me a fucking mess.

Do you ever miss it? Those days? The people? Or, well, the way they were. The way it all was."

Jack looked at him, something like softness in his features.

"Sure. It was all a bit much at times, and I'm not sure I'd wanna do it all again.

But I miss it sometimes. It was fun, really."

"Yeah, I don't think I'd do it all again either. But. I don't know, I've tried to move on. My little cottage far away, my humble paradise. But that trails a lot into my mind."

"I think it trails onto all of our minds sometimes, wherever we all are.

But we all have to move on, find our own destiny sometime."

"Okay. Phew. I'm glad it's not just me."

"Chasing the win keeps me happy.

I like who I am now, probably more than I was. But that doesn't mean he was bad."

"You like being a gambler? Over an incompetent fight loser?"

Jack laughed, soft and genuine, and Tommy fidgeted a bit harder.

"I guess they're not great options are they."

"Sorry, that was a bit harsh, I don't see many people."

"One of them means I might win someday, I was never gonna win back then."

His face held that expression again, soft, almost sad maybe.

"I've still got my one life. One canon life.

And I intend to use it the best way I can."

"What do you mean? How do you wanna use it?."

"You know. I've not got a clue.

But I'll figure that out later.

For now, I've got my cottage, and my new pet! Oh she's adorable. Mareep, she's a little sheep I caught.

But you know, things are okay for me.

Tubbo and his fucking bees I see also every now and then. He's doing pretty well for himself. Selling fucking honey."

"Oh, that's good. I thought he exploded when I blew up everything.

I can't actually die I don't think, so I never know whether these things are bad for everyone else or not."

"I guess being the president of L'Manberg teaches you a few logistical things, aye?

Not that either of us would know anything about that."

"Well."

"I haven't seen anyone else besides Tubbo."

"Yeah, you two are hard to separate."

"Tell me about it."

"I think I like it that way for now though.

The quiet life."

"Quiet is nice. This is nice."

"It's good to see an old face though. I know I said it before, but it really is."

Tommy pushed himself up and off the snow beneath them, a couple joints popped, Jack did the same, they stayed standing with the cabin behind them.

"Well, I can't stay for long, I've gotta do things like feed Mareep."

"Yeah, I got some places to see, now that I'm out.

Haven't left there in a while, probably should go check on some things."

"Is there anything else you wanna ask me? I have no questions for you."

Jack looked like he might have something to say, but was going through the roster of words in his mind, carefully considering them.

"Are you happy?

I guess that's really all I'd care to know."

Tommy opened his mouth to respond, closed it, gave a whisper of a smile, ran one of his hands along his pant leg in a partial fidget and a partial way to rid himself of the cold, then opened it again.

"Getting there."

They both nodded gently.

"I'm glad."

"It's good to see you, Jack."

"It's good to see you too, Tommy."

"I hope you get that big win someday.

Oh, and hey. Don't let anyone bye this house."

"I won't."

"I might not see you again. But I hope to lhear about it if you win big."

That's okay. You will. I can deal with just knowing that you're happy."

Tommy held out a hand.

"So long J Money."

Jack shook it.

"Bye Big T."

They both looked to the cabin once more, gave a two finger salute, and went their separate ways along the snowy path.

#mcyt #dsmp #tommyinnit #jack manifold #fanfic #creative writing

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undercoverpan · 1 year ago

Text

Say what you mean (I can't, sorry)

"Why didn't you make me tea when I was sick?"

The room they're in is quiet. Spider isn't looking at him, rather, he's staring at his cup of water as he sits down in one of the cold, metal chairs the RDA had left behind. Jake's place within the four walls is at the small counter, leaning other it with his elbows as he grips a piece of bone, whittling it into a bead. Neither face the other.

"What?" He asks, resuming with his carving. Spider glances at him from the corner of his eyes, catching the dismissive tone, and thinks of shutting his mouth. Just dropping the conversation. But with a second glance, he catches amber on the man's songchord, and thins his lips. Proof of his place within the family is reflected in that insignificant amber, the same blood that courses through his veins now. How he hated his blood; how he wonders why and how Jake could cherish it. His blood beckons him to speak, rushing to his cheeks as he opens his mouth again.

"When I was sick, you never made me tea."

Jake regards his words in the way you might regard the core of an eaten Yovo fruit. Past its sweet flesh, what is it worth? The seeds may be cultivated by Eywa, but not necessarily the Na'vi. By Jake. But Spider wants to be valued beyond his metaphorical and literal flesh.

"Did you want some tea?" He offers; and Spider stills. His rational mind, the one that never made any effort to shield him from the less rational parts of himself that dwelled within his heart, tells him that that is what he wants. Tea. He's asked for tea and he's being offered tea. He associates that part of his thoughts with cowardice and willful ignorance, because this isn't what he wants.

"No, not right now. Back then, when I was a kid. You used to make the others tea; but never me. Why?" He presses, and though he shows great restraint with the emotions seeping through his teeth like blood through a white bandage, it is still as palpable and intrusive as the past comparison. Jake pauses, turns, and looks at Spider. He feels microscopic beneath his intense gaze, like an insect, like a yerik, like prey and insignificance all at once. Their relationship is one of commensalism, maybe parasitism if you push it. Spider certainly is.

"That's because you rarely got sick. Also, Norm wanted to keep you away from Na'vi foods and drink when you got sick–" he starts and Spider feels shame welling up in his throat like bile. Embarrassment. "No. Not that. Why didn't you make me tea?" He says. It's simple, a simple question. But below the surface, it's a heavy; loaded question. It's not stupid, or petty, or childish; it is a plea. A plea for understanding, a plea for please don't make me really say it.

"I never thought to make you tea. I…I thought you liked making your own tea." He offers instead an odd olive branch of sorts. Spider tightens his grip on his cup. "I always wanted someone to make me tea. It–, I like my tea, but I've never compared it to anything else. I don't know if I'm doing it right; I don't know what tea is supposed to taste like." He says, admits with some embarrassment and hesitance. Jake takes a breath; it feels like he's taking the air straight from Spider's lungs.

"Is it so bad, not knowing what tea is if you like what you make?"

He asks.

"Is it so bad that I want you to make me tea?" Spider counters. Jake sighs and Spider feels ridiculous. An 8 year old tugging at someone's sleeve, saying come look, I hit it right in the middle this time! I carved it myself! I wove it myself! I saw this and thought of you! I learned how to do this today! I made this for you!

"It's not that I don't want to make you tea, Spider, I promise. It's just…" he hesitates, searching for something inside himself, something more genuine than he wants to be right now. "...With the kids, and Neytiri, and the rest of the clan, I was just so busy."

Spider feels something in him deflate, filled with some delusional hope that because he is part of 'the kids' and 'the clan' he'd get tea, but he wasn't. Never was, never will be. He bites his lip, hunching over like Jake punched him in the stomach and with the pain in his chest, he might've.

"Okay." He says, tersely. He doesn't dare meet his gaze. Doesn't want to imagine what he'd find in that golden eyed gaze.

"Spider…" He trails, reaches a big blue hand towards Spider in some kind of attempt at comfort. It's a cruel thing, reaching when you've made it clear you have no intention of holding. Featherlight touches grace him occasionally, but he wants the real thing. He wants somebody to care in the same way a father was. Anyone, anyone at all.

"It was stupid to ask," he says, standing up, "Sorry. It's stupid–, I'm stupid–," He rushes out of the room, water forgotten, eyes red rimmed and body stiff, trapped in rigor mortis. His body is tense, reeling from some kind of impact. He grits his teeth as he makes it to his little bedroom. He opens and closes the door behind him, a quiet click as it shuts behind him. His room, small and usually suffocating, is his sanctuary.

Sanctuary. His uturu from the rest of the world, when it all became too much. And it's so stupid and he's so stupid because it's just tea. It's just tea, it's something he can make on his own, it's something he doesn't necessarily love; it was such a stupid and petty and desperate thing to ask. He feels like there are bugs under his skin, he wants to rip them all out.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid

He feels hot tears down his cheeks. Embarrassing.

He sinks to the floor, knees tucked beneath his chin. He heaves.

The room blurs, turning into a muddled sea of colours in his vision. His head is cold against the hard floor as sobs wrack his built frame. And yet, from the corner of his eye, he spots something. It's in a brown can, a familiar one. He reaches out his hand and touches cold metal, pulling it from beneath his bed.

It's one of the better drinks the RDA makes. Coffee flavoured energy drink, a favourite amongst the science guys. He always thought it tasted like dung, the bitterness juxtaposed awfully with the artificial sweetness. But when it's in a chipped mug, topped with copious amounts of whipped cream and chocolate, it's good. When it's shared around a campfire with Quaritch, it's good. When it's put into a microwave and subsequently blows up said microwave, it's good.

He ignores the warning labels and drinks it down. It's good.

_________

Spider not asking what he rlly wants <333 turning to an unhealthy imitation of what he truly desires <333 he cant ask his dad for affection or why he feels unloved, he like frfr

#avatar the way of water #avatar twow #spider socorro #miles spider socorro #avatar spider #miles socorro #jake sully #spider soccoro #avatar way of water #twow

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resowrites · 1 year ago

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Daredevil - oneshot.

Summary: Henry’s overprotectiveness drives his pregnant wife crazy…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Wife!OC

Warnings: fluff, banter/British humour, dialogue heavy, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 1765

A/N: My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Daredevil - oneshot.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Henry's voice startled her and she almost lost her footing. "Careful, you're going to fall!" He dashed forwards, catching her as she teetered backward from the ladder.

"For God's sake! I almost fell off thanks to you!" Henry quickly helped her down, taking the large box from her hands as he did so.

"Well, what on earth are you doing?! You know you're not supposed to be doing any heavy lifting!" She couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous, I had to get a start on clearing my office or we won't be able to make it into a nursery--"

"Then why didn't you just call me for help? I said I'd do it at the weekend, there's no need for you to be carrying heavy stuff or going up and down ladders--"

"Henry, you promised not to start becoming a fusspot--"

"How am I being a fusspot when my pregnant wife is scaling heights while juggling a load of boxes?!"

"So I'm not meant to move for the rest of my pregnancy am I?!" He folded his arms.

"Preferably, yes!"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous! I'm allowed to carry on as I would normally, you know women can even do weight training throughout their pregnancies?" Henry's eyes went wide.

"You're not planning on doing that, are you?!"

"Well, maybe. After all… it's better to be in good shape ready for the birth."

"You're are joking? You're not seriously going to lift weights in the gym?!"

"Well, I thought having a personal trainer come here would be better. Just let me know when you're not using the weights and I'll schedule the session." But he was in no mood for her teasing.

"You mean to tell me you're going to have some random guy come over and help you work out?!" She smirked.

"Oh, so now it's about the trainer? What if it's a woman instead?" Henry sighed and led her by the hand into their bedroom. Carefully, he sat her down on the edge of the bed and took a seat beside her.

"Ollie, I know you're a headstrong person but I must admit, I'm getting worried about how that's showing up in your pregnancy--"

"Aren't you being a tad dramatic? I mean, I haven't been advised to take any precautions so far--"

"And what if that changes? Will you follow the advice you're given?"

"Of course! Why are you making me sound like some irresponsible lunatic?"

"Well, I don't know about irresponsible…" She smiled.

"I'm serious, what risks do you think I've been taking?"

"Well, take a couple of nights ago. You got in the bath despite barely being able to keep your eyes open!"

"So? What does that have to do with anything?" Henry sighed and took her hand in his.

"Ollie, you have to accept that our lives are changing. And there will be some things you just can't do anymore." She jumped to her feet and angrily crossed her arms.

"Henry, I'm not an idiot and I would appreciate it if you stopped treating me like one--" she turned to leave only for him to catch her by the sleeve.

"Whoa, there. I neither said nor implied any such thing. But what would have happened if you'd fallen asleep in the bath Ollie? I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you or the baby…" Henry's eyes seemed to glaze over temporarily and she felt bad about being so defensive.

"Oh, Henry. I had no idea you were feeling so anxious…" She sat back down on the bed, taking his hand once again.

"I'm not anxious!"

"Look, I'm worried about the responsibility of becoming a parent as well--"

"I'm not worried, either. More… concerned. I mean, there's only so much I can do to protect you both."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's my job as a husband and father to keep you both safe. And if I can't even do that before the baby gets here… it hardly bodes well for the future."

"But Henry you do protect us. Every day, in fact. You make sure I'm eating well, and getting enough rest. I can't even leave the house without you holding my hand or walking between me and the road!"

"And what if that's not enough? I won't always be around…"

"Well, I'm sure we'll manage--"

But it won't be easy for them to have such a handsome, famous father!"

"What do your looks have to do with anything?! And I'm not a china plate Henry and neither is the baby. There's going to be accidents, injuries… times when we're sick. It's just a part of life." Henry looked down, shifting slightly from one foot to the other.

"I know, I know. But just promise me you'll take it easy. At least until you're past the twelve-week mark?" She looked into his pleading eyes and could see it was useless trying to disagree.

"Fine, but only if you promise to try and relax a little. Who knows what the future will bring but I want us to both enjoy this pregnancy. Before we know it, it'll all be over."

"You're right. It's just tough feeling so powerless…" An idea suddenly popped into her head.

"Well, why don't we get a fetal doppler? That way we can listen to the baby's heartbeat at home."

"Can we really do that?!" She nodded eagerly.

"From twelve weeks onwards, yeah. And you're also welcome to check in with as many times as you want each day, no matter where you are or what you're doing." Henry visibly relaxed and placed his hands gently on his stomach.

"Do you also promise to tell me the minute anything feels off? Even if you're not entirely sure what it is?"

"Of course, darling. I know it's just as important for you to have that information as it is for me. But please try and relax, there's no use worrying over what we can't control. Now give me a hand with these boxes, once they're up in the loft I can start moving the furniture out of my office as well." He jumped to his feet and came between her and the door.

"Oh no you don't! You're not lifting any more boxes. And if you want things moved then you'll have to ask me."

"But then how will I turn the loft into a workout room?" Henry's mouth fell open. "I'm kidding! You are far too easy to wind up these days. Anyway, I thought you didn't like it when I bossed you about?"

"Well, you just said to stop worrying about things we can't change…" She bopped him on the arm. "Ow! I think somebody's overdue for a nap, don't you?" As if on queue, she yawned.

"Henry, if I wanted a nap, I'd take one…" She yawned again and Henry just shook his head.

"Into bed now, madam. And if you're good I'll bring your dinner up later as well."

"Are you going to cut it into little squares and give me a fruit shoot as well?" He smirked as he made his way around the bed and pulled back the covers.

"Ollie, you can argue with me all you like, it's great practise for when we have an actual toddler…" She grabbed a pillow off the bed and chucked it straight at Henry.

"The only toddler here is you, it's why you're so good at antagonising me all the bloody time!" He patted her spot on the bed and she reluctantly sank into the sheets. Henry then lifted up her feet and pulled them around so she was laying straight. "What's next, are you going to sing me to sleep?"

"What's that? I can't hear you over the sound of being right--"

"How are you right?! I told you, I'm not a bit sleepy." But her heavy eyes betrayed her. He then settled in beside her, rubbing the base of her stomach the way he always did to help her to sleep.

"Come on mama, time for beddy-byes…"

"Hey, do you think the baby sleeps when I'm asleep?"

"…They'll be awake more than that." Though her eyes were closed she thwacked Henry on the chest.

"You know, just for that, I think I'll do a motorbike jump over ten London buses at Wembley Stadium…"

"Have you been reading my Evel Knieval biography?"

"Well I had to find something to do between marathon training and shotput practise…" He rolled his eyes.

"Well don't go getting any ideas… you're a danger to yourself as it is."

"Oh stop it, I was actually reading it to get inspiration…"

"For what?!"

"Baby names."

"You are not naming our baby after some mad stunt performer!"

"But Knievel Cavill sounds lovely!"

"Go to bed missy, before I launch you out the bloody window!" She curled up closer to Henry.

"Ooh, now you're talking. I like a bit of danger. Maybe we should put together a knife-throwing act…"

"Don't bloody tempt me. Now close your eyes and think calm thoughts, our baby needs all the help they can get."

"I will not! I don't want them turning into a nerd or I'll come home to find the two of you painting those bloody figures!"

"Warhammer, woman! And far better they do that than be some hooligan!" She giggled. "Can you imagine them having a goth phase like you did?"

"I was never a goth!"

"You had dreadlocks! And listened to Megadeath!"

"Oh God, what if they get the worst of both of us?!"

"What, like loving air guitar as well as online player games?"

"Exactly, throw in your third nipple and they'll be an outcast!"

"It wasn't a third nipple, it was a cyst--"

"Oh Henry, I can't bare the thought of them being teased--"

"They won't be! Besides, with the kind of school they'll be going to, there'll be much better targets."

"I suppose… do you really think our lives will change that much?"

"I guess so, yeah."

"But what about us?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what if we change? I like the person I am now and it took a long time to get here…"

"Darling, I promise you will be just as uncool when the baby's here as you are now. Now go to go to sleep, you can't even keep your eyes open."

"Fine, but keep rubbing my tummy…"

"Will do, after all the more love our child feels the less likely they're turn to heavy metal." She kicked him in the shin.

To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.

@elizabetharegina @fanfictionaddiction99 @luclittlepond @caffeinatedfestivalsheep @summersong69 @ushijimbo

#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine

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itsgrimeytime · 7 months ago

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Home is Where the Heart is (Part Ten) || Farmer!Rick Grimes (TWD) x Teacher!GN!reader AU

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9...

Taglist: @1tsk1tty

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: Like Real People Do by Hozier and Begin Again by Taylor Swift.

Summary: Your life was spinning out of control, you knew that. After a string of particularly shattering events, you decided it was time to start anew. With a little help from one of your Grandma's rentals, you found yourself in the small town of Alexandria. The last thing you expected was your neighbor, Rick Grimes.

TWs: kinda anti-Lori, a lil bit of crying, alluding to sex (nothing graphic), and mentioned child abandonment.

[[A/N: Fun fact, I based the multiplication tables on actual posters I had as a kid. And yes, I did have physical multiplication tables on my walls, I was a nerd. This one is quite the rollercoaster. Enjoy :))]

You woke up early that morning, dancing around your house trying to gather everything up. It was almost 2 weeks until school started, and you had honestly never been more panicked in your life.

Grabbing stacks of paper and a few colorful posters you saved from your job in the city, you pushed open the door and unloaded it into your car. It wasn't your first trip to the car that morning, and it was starting to get a little tedious (you would've been frustrated if you weren't so nervous).

Slipping them into the trunk, you took a big breath out of your lungs and readied yourself up for another load. There was a lot more than you'd thought there'd be to decorate a classroom-

"Mornin', darlin'," a voice called to you, and you immediately spun on your toes to meet the one and only Rick Grimes.

It had been a few days since you'd seen him. You started working over at his house, so you wouldn't be running yourself into the ground again. He kept you hydrated and fed, and if you got stressed, he'd kiss your temple or drag you away from the computer. It was a really nice change of pace. You'd been relatively less stressed because of it, except for, well, now.

Rick was leaning against the fence, sleeves rolled up past his elbows (a worn flannel that maybe he wore just for morning work, you noted), and forearms on full display. You could see dirt on his hands though, and you realized it was early enough he must have been working too. Grinning at you and blue eyes twinkling, a stray curl hanging over his face (you had the instinct to comb it back). He actually looked a little messy, imperfect even, who knew he could do that?

Making your way over to him, you chimed with a bright smile, "Hey, loverboy, funny seeing you here."

He laughed, eyes swimming all over your face as you stood in front of him, "'Could say the same for you, ya know."

You smiled, teasing, "You always watch me like that?"

He let out a low chuckle, eyes intently focused on you -you really were never going to get used to that, "Only sometimes."

Laughing, you gently combed the curl back in its place and while you were at it fixed the rest of the muss of his hair. It looked a little like a bedhead, so you spent a little longer fixing it. Rick just watched you do so, maybe a little fondly.

"'S gettin' a lil' long, ain't it?" he offered, and you looked at it for a moment -the bundle of curls almost reached the bottom of his neck.

"Rick, believe me when I say this," you moved your hand to his cheek -mock-serious, "-I will kill you if you cut your hair."

Rick let out a full-body laugh at that one, head tilting up to the sky. You smiled at the noise, heart lurching in your chest.

"Don't get me wrong," you clarified, hand still in place "-I've seen the pictures, and you are very handsome with short hair-"

He just smiled at you, eyes trickling all over your features. It made you want to fidget a little.

"-in fact, I think you'd be handsome with any hair, actually-"

Rick leaned forward and pecked your lips, effectively cutting off your reasoning. It was a simple kiss, just surface level, still made you smile though.

"Ya do know how to flatter a guy, you know 'at?" he hummed, fingers tapping along the wood. He kind of looked like he wanted to touch you, but, you know, dirt hands.

"I am just stating facts," you argued. It was unreal how he did not know how plain attractive he was. God, you could wake up every day stoked just because you were together.

He changed his footing, looking at you curiously, "What are ya doin' out 'ere anyway?"

Blue eyes drew to your trunk, where a substantial pile was growing -messy colors and books and stationery-

"'Looks like a lotta stuff," he commented, saying playfully (but there was something a little serious in his tone), "-Ya ain't leavin' me, are ya?"

"No," you laughed in disbelief, but you saw something in him relax, "-Remember that job I have? That you ignore?"

Rick rolled his eyes, "I don't ignore it."

"You do," you patted his cheek, "-you buy everything for me. But-"

He smiled at you, affectionately, turning to kiss your palm.

"-since school starts in a few weeks," you explained, "-I have to go set up my classroom. What is in my trunk is not my stuff, but instead, tragically, is cute little posters about multiplication tables."

"Cute?" he questioned, eyes looking at you so fondly you thought that you might melt in your place.

"They're jungle themed," you clarified, motioning with your hands, "-have little monkeys on the sides."

Rick smiled at you, something smoothing into his eyes, "'At does sound pretty cute."

Your eyes flicked between his, "I said that, didn't I?"

He laughed again, and you pulled him to your lips that time -a little longer than before, but not much more than the press of the lips. Although you were pretty sure Rick wanted it to be. You too, really.

"Alright, loverboy," you parted, dropping your hands from his face, "-you've distracted me enough, I have some work to do. The colorful letter cutouts will not stack themselves."

He looked at you a second, before asking, "Ya need an extra set of hands? Or maybe three?"

"Oh, you don't need to wake them up, Rick, I'll be fine-" you hummed, "-it'll only take a few hours."

"Carl's helpin' me outside, and Judith is pickin' flowers, think she might give 'em to ya actually, and-" he tilted his head -playfully, "-I gotta few hours."

You laughed, "Do you?"

"For ya?" he grinned, eyes skimming over yours -fond, "-Absolutely."

Rick ended up piling up his kids in his truck and following you to the school. What can you say? You were weak-willed when it came to Rick Grimes.

Now, you were roaming down the hallways, hands full of papers, muttering the instructions you got from an email to your classroom. Beside you, Rick held most of the stuff (not that you hadn't offered), Carl held one box, and with your free hand, you held Judith's -keeping her close. Rick's eyes had been following it the whole way, you probably would've said something, if you weren't so distracted.

"Rick!" a woman called, crouching down to the kids' level, "-and look, Carl and Judith too! Hey guys."

She was young, wearing a floral top and regular jeans. She had blonde curly hair and a deep sort of blue eyes. Her voice was warm and she seemed so welcoming it was actually unbelievable-

Now that you noticed it, she came out of the first hallway -the younger classes. You briefly wondered if she was a teacher too.

"Hey, Beth," Rick chimed happily, warm, "-just helpin' Y/N get 'eir room ready."

"Y/N," she smiled, big and bright, rising back to her feet, "-the Y/N?"

He chuckled, and you saw the tips of his ears go pink (a smile bloomed onto your lips again), but still, he confirmed, "Yeah if ya wanna say it like 'at, the Y/N."

The woman grinned, something twinkling in her eyes, before realizing she hadn't turned to you yet, "Oh, I'm sorry! I'm Beth, Beth Greene, I teach Kindergarten here."

Figures.

"Hi, it's really nice to meet you," you chimed, smiling, "-and even though you don't need it apparently," your eyes shot to Rick a second, "-I'm Y/N. I teach third grade, and am... currently trying to find my classroom."

"Oh," she spoke, eyes lighting up at the idea of helping, "-I can totally help you with that! Third is gonna be the second hallway, what's your classroom number?"

"203," you replied with ease -in all your nerves, you had memorized it.

"That's easy," she waved a hand dismissively, "-should be right at the front, odd rooms are on the left."

"Thank you," you smiled.

"I hope to see you around!"

You grinned wide and continued walking down the main hallway. Maybe I shouldn't be so nervous.

"Look at ya," Rick hummed, teasingly, "-already makin' friends."

You pursed your lips, warning, "Don't start, loverboy."

He laughed, as you turned down the second hallway -eyes darting between room numbers, a little frantically. Rick's eyes lingered on you a little longer, eyebrows furrowing a second. He opened his mouth to say something, but you interrupted him.

"There it is," you breathed out a sigh of relief -second door on the left.

Grabbing your key off your lanyard which had your photo ID too, you slid it into the lock and turned.

Taking in the room, you were nearly bouncing on your toes. Not that it was anything special, it was just a basic classroom with lines of desks, a big whiteboard, plain white brick walls, and a big desk in the corner. It was just... your very own classroom.

"Ya look happy," Rick chimed, coming up to your side as Judith and Carl ran into the room.

You instinctively called out, thinking of the hard tile flooring under your shoes, "Be careful, you two! Don't fall!"

The both of them slowed down considerably, and you let out a sigh of relief -placing the papers you had on one of the desks in front of you and turning to Rick.

He was smiling at you so fondly that you promptly forgot what you were saying -heart skittering in your chest, "Sorry, what did you say?"

"Ya look happy," he repeated, blue eyes skimming over your face a little like he couldn't get enough of you.

"Oh, yeah, I am," you agreed, smile on your face, "-I've always had assistant jobs, this is... I finally have my own classroom. It's big for me, even if sounds a little stupid-"

Rick shook his head, putting the boxes onto the floor, and approached you -running his hands along your arms, "Ain't stupid, baby. Not at all."

You smiled at him but not quite the fullest, nerves still bubbling under your skin, "Thank you."

He furrowed his eyebrows, eyes smoothing over your smile, "'Ere's somethin' else. What's wrong?"

You bit at your lips a second, "I just... I really don't want to mess this up. I've only ever been an assistant-"

His hands moved up to cup your face, turning your eyes onto his -steady gaze, "You're gonna do great. Not a doubt in my mind."

You pursed your lips.

"I've seen ya wit' Carl and Judith," he continued, genuine and honestly, "-you're amazin', baby. You 'ave nothin' to worry 'bout."

"Yeah?"

"'Course," he assured, leaning forward and pecking your lips once, "-Now, what ya want me to do, boss?"

You laughed, and the four of you got to work. Well, Judith was sitting at a desk coloring with crayons but you'd still counted it (especially when she'd offered you the finished product after Carl signed it for her. You immediately stuck it on the pinboard behind your desk. Rick couldn't stop smiling at you).

You were, at the current moment, making nametags with Carl; you were writing their names and he was folding them into triangles -quite diligently, you added. Every once in a while he'd tell you about somebody if he knew them, 'Annie likes the color pink, and James likes dinosaurs, he let me play with his favorite once. It was so cool-'. Attentively listening, you carefully skimmed every name, making sure that their name was spelled right.

"Do you know what Mary's favorite princess is?" you asked, curiously.

Carl paused from folding, gathering an oddly serious face (you almost laughed), "'Think she told somebody it was Cinderella once."

Kind of basic, your mind chimed.

"Good choice," you hummed instead, and you could feel Rick's eyes heavy on the two of you -you chanced a look at him and sweetly smiled. He grinned, shaking his head, and busying himself with the posters.

And then, there was a rapt on the door.

You curiously looked to the door and spotted a man with dark hair and dark eyes. His eyes surfed along the room before landing on Rick, a grin seeping across his face.

"I heard we had a visitor," he spoke, echoing out into the room.

Rick spun to him, grinning wide and making strides to the door, "Glenn, 'ey! Ya heard from Maggie?"

The man, Glenn, smiled in a small sort of way, shaking his head -embarrassed. You peeked up at the two of them, curiosity peaked.

Carl whispered, low for your ear, "'At's Glenn, he teaches here."

You turned to him, digging deeper, "And whose Maggie?"

He darted to the group, seeing they were lost in conversation, and putting his hand in front of his mouth, whispering, "She sells flowers in town, he has a big crush on 'er."

"Really?" you whispered back, "-How do you know?"

"Dad said so," he responded, blue eyes locked onto yours, "-Glenn won't ask her to be his girlfriend though."

"No," you exaggerated, enraptured, "-does Maggie like him back?"

"Yeah," he answered, mindlessly folding, "-she looks at 'im how Dad looks at you. And Dad really likes you."

You smiled, something in your chest fluttering, laughing a little, "Does she?"

"Yeah," he hummed, adding dramatically, "-And she twirls her hair."

"Oh, wow," you responded, playfully, "-she must really like him then."

He nodded at you, as you continued writing away. Until a thought crossed your mind.

"Has your Dad ever tried to get Maggie to make a move?" you asked.

"Dunno," Carl answered, shrugging, "-Dad says everybody in Alexandria is waiting on it. I don't really care, though."

You laughed, and you felt Rick's eyes dart to you at the noise, "Well, at least, you have your priorities straight, Carl."

There was a pause.

"You should try it though," he added, a little quietly, not looking at you.

"Should I?"

"Yeah," he leaned into his hand, "-I think if two people like each other, they should be together. 'Specially if they really like each other. Like you and Dad."

"And you're-" you pursed your lips, "-you're okay with me and your Dad?"

"Yeah," Carl spoke, instantly, "-he smiles a lot with you. 'Didn't used to smile that much when we weren't around."

You frowned slightly but didn't say a word.

"'Cause Mom left," he commented, tone much lower than before. You just watched him quietly. You hadn't really thought too much about Lori, or, at the very least, Carl's perspective.

It might be a little like he lost a Mom.

You bit your lip, bouncing your pen for a moment, "Hey Carl?"

He turned to you, big blue eyes, and his fingers dancing along the table.

"It's okay to miss her sometimes," you decided, eyes settling along his face, "-even if... even if she left on purpose. You can still miss her."

"I can?" he asked so genuinely that it made your heart ache in your chest.

"Yeah, of course," you hummed, giving him your full attention, "-we can still miss the people who hurt us. Especially if you love them."

"And," he started, voice maybe a little wobbly, "-And it's okay if it did hurt me?"

Something in your gut twisted. Oh, Carl.

You took a breath in, hand coming to smooth down his arm, "Yeah, sometimes-" your hand smoothed along his head, "-sometimes people do things that hurt us, and it-" you bit your lip, remembering things yourself, "-it hurts for a long time. And you know what? That's okay."

Carl just looked at you.

"It's okay to feel hurt by someone," you added, not moving your eyes from his, "-even when you love them."

Carl looked at you for a second, processing the words. You attentively kept his gaze, patient.

Before you could blink, he scraped back his chair and threw himself into your arms. Tiny little arms and hands hugging you.

You smiled, a little bittersweetly (maybe with a dusting of tears in your eyes), hand coming up to carefully hold the back of his head. Wordlessly, you smoothed your palm against it -repetitively.

Looking up to match Rick's concerned eyes, you motioned dismissively with your free hand, mouthing 'Later'. He seemed to shoot between your eyes and the back of Carl's head, rolling his lip in between his teeth.

'It's okay', you mouthed, trying to reassure him, '-he's okay.'

Something in him softened, and he took a deep breath, turning back to Glenn.

You did eventually meet Glenn, Rhee you learned; he taught fifth grade, towards the end of the third hall. Just like everyone else, he'd said Rick had practically introduced you already. It made you grin, just like it did every other time. He was nice, friendly even, offered to help you learn the ropes -which, you kind of desperately needed.

A little after that, with the help of Rick's height and Carl's remarkable focus (seriously, you wished you had that), you finished your classroom. Cubbies pushed against the wall, crayons in little drawers, papers properly filed in your desk, and walls covered in cute posters. You deserved a little break, so you took one.

Eating dinner with the Grimes, you stayed over. Leading you to now, as you sat -curled up on the couch watching whatever sitcom was on. It seemed familiar, but you couldn't really remember. Rick was putting Carl to bed, as he'd put Judith a few hours earlier, and you just sat in the coziness of his house.

It was crazy how nice it felt to be in here.

"Hey, baby," Rick hummed out, waltzing up to your side.

"Hey," you greeted with a sweet sort of smile.

Rick sat down just beside you, pulling you into his side (his body warmth bubbling along his skin, and a woodsy smell pulling through your nose). In response, you went to lean your head onto his shoulder -naturally.

"Just one thin'," he hummed, and you stopped in your tracks as he guided your chin up. And with fond, twinkly eyes, he kissed you.

It was languid, beard scratching at your face, and fingertips gently on your skin. Your hand naturally pushed through his hair, brushing through the curls with your fingers. Rick let out a low hum in response that made your stomach twist in a sort of pleasant way, so you kept doing it. Lips melding together with each breath you took, you had the spare thought that he kissed you a little carefully -gently. It made sparks shoot to your toes that he cared so much. Wanted to make you feel special and cared for.

You parted then, eyes fluttering open with a breath, a little flustered. Rick laughed a little at your reaction, fingers brushing along the hinge of your jaw -the careful touch of his callouses.

"Ya are so cute," he hummed, low as a whisper, "-always so flustered by me. 'S cute."

"In my defense," you responded, "-you are probably the hottest person like... maybe ever."

He quirked an eyebrow, a playful smirk smoothing across his lips, "Hottest, huh?"

You paused, "Uh, yeah. I call you handsome all the time-"

"Handsome and hot are two different thin's darlin'," he interrupted, curling his hand behind your ear, "-'s 'bout the intention."

"Well, then-" you continued a little uncertain, "-yeah. You look like you deserve to be carved out of marble-"

His eyes just laid heavily on you, but you could see the tips of his ears turn pink.

"-and at the same time, I would like to watch you chop wood shirtless sometimes," you finished, a little quieter.

He laughed just a little, before confessing, "Sometimes, I do chop wood, actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he explained, voice low and gruff, "-in the winter, in case the power goes out. Keep some firewood for the fireplace. Don't think bein' shirtless would be a good idea in 'at weather."

You hummed, distracted by the way his fingers were brushing against your skin. It was so fond it made your head spin.

"'Could be shirtless for other reasons though," he added, tone coated in something different.

You let out a breath, eyes flicking between his, mindlessly poking his chest -accusingly, "Now that's not fair, Grimes. Jokes like that-"

"Who said I was jokin'?"

Your breath hollowed out in your chest, your heart pounding a little too fast. You swallowed, eyes holding his heavy look that you had never really seen before, but you knew very much what it meant.

Heart leaping into your chest, you spoke, "Yeah?"

"Kids are asleep," he offered, eyes set on your face -dipping to your lips, "-if ya want to, I want to."

"Jesus Christ," you muttered.

He laughed a little at that, eyes fond for a second. But continued strumming along your skin, careful touch now definitely making your head spin.

You breathed out, "I would like that. Yeah, who wouldn't?"

Laughing again, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours -surface level, but something new biting there. A promise for more.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, hands twisting into his hair. He hummed again, but this time a little differently.

Before you could blink, he was pulling you up to stand, and right before you could do that, he hitched his arms under your thighs -effectively carrying you.

You swallowed, god help me.

Rick grinned at you, something shining in his blue eyes, "'Figured I could show you somethin' else with my strength, yeah?"

You croaked out, just staring at him, "Yeah."

He laughed big and bright then, eyes smoothing to your lips, and decidedly saying, "'Said I was gonna take care of ya, didn't I?"

You blinked, swallowing. Well, maybe you didn't need god to help you.

You looked at Rick a second, before he started to move to the bedroom with a pretty quick pace -almost running. You laughed.

Maybe you were already blessed.

#its griming time #rick grimes #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #home is where the heart is

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