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loganhowlettshousewife · 3 months ago

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Okay relating to a recent post, cleaning up Logan after a fight/mission? Maybe you have a kit ready to go when you hear him return, put his favorite pjs on a fluff cycle so they're nice and warm for him. You clean off any blood (maybe a few remaining wounds if it was BAD bad), and wipe down his claws. Maybe shower together, letting you run your fingers through his shampooed hair before getting cozy for the night

I just wanna take care of him

you! you get it!!

comfort

summary: you take care of logan after he comes home from a mission.

cw (treating this like ao3 tags): blood, wound tending, non-sexual intimacy, nudity, not proofread at all, english isn't my first language so beware, reader has hair, i'm pretty sure this is gender neutral but i'm a girl so i may have accidentally added something gendered without realising idk. this is very soft! you can say this is out of character for logan but i believe he's actually a big softie and just wants love!

word count: 1619

logan comes home to you sitting on the couch reading a book. or, well, you’re trying to read, but it’s hard to focus on anything when logan’s out on a mission. you know he can’t die, his regenerative healing factor pretty much guarantees that, and yet there’s still an irrational spark of fear that lives in you, lighting a fire in your heart every time he gets called away by the x-men.

every minute that passes is a dagger, every new star that appears in the sky a reminder of how long he’s been gone. missions for the x-men can be mere hours or last for days, you remind yourself, and time has nothing to do with how dangerous it is.

though logan typically only gets chosen to go on the dangerous missions. he’s not the one they ask to convince new, young mutants to go to the school. he’s too harsh, too jaded.

you immediately drop the book when you hear the sound of the door lightly creaking open. you’re on your feet in an instant, there to catch logan when he falls into your arms, sweaty and bloody and tired - not as much physically, he has insane stamina, but mentally.

“missed you,” he mumbles into your hair, tucking your head under his chin.

“missed you more,” you reply.

you stay like that for a few minutes. you both need the comfort. early on in your relationship, logan would refuse this type of comfort after a mission, claimed he didn’t need it, he’s fought and killed his entire life and never had a sweet thing like you to take care of him when he got back. but you did, you needed to know he was there, with you, a physical presence, proof that nothing terrible had happened to him.

secretly, he revelled in those moments. now, he trusts you enough for those feelings to be spoken out loud, whispered reverently between “i love you”s, declarations of affection and faith. you’re the only one who’s ever been able to get him to open up this way, to verbalise his feelings instead of swallowing them down.

“you’re covered in blood,” you comment, running a hand down his chest.

he shivers, “most of it’s not mine. but they got a few shots in.”

you hum, pulling back to take a better look at him. his shirt is torn in a few places, and in the middle of his chest are multiple neat, round holes in the fabric, small marks showing where bullets pierced his skin. the wound itself has healed, but the blood remains, a visual reminder of the pain your boyfriend was feeling not so long ago.

he may heal quickly, but he still feels pain, feels agony, and your heart shatters at the way others seem to forget that, so quick to put him in the line of fire. he’ll be fine, they say, and while that may be true physically, there’s only so many times a man can play human shield before he breaks.

“let’s get you cleaned up,” you say, the next part of your routine for when he returns from missions.

it’s a dance you’ve almost perfected, the way he wraps his arms around your waist and you have to walk to the bathroom with him clinging to you.

he sits down on the closed toilet seat, closing his eyes and letting you do all the work. his claws come out next, stained with the blood of those he harmed and killed, yet you trace them softly all the same. they protect you - he protects you, really, and so you’ll always be grateful for them, even when logan considers them a curse, a stain upon his existence, turning a man into a monster.

you grab a washcloth and dampen it, wiping meticulously at each sharp blade, from his knuckle to the pointed tip of the adamantium. soon, the washcloth is stained a dirty red, almost brown in its appearance, and the metal gleams brightly under the bathroom lights.

there’s an ease to his posture when he retracts his claws, so slight a difference that no one else would have noticed. he told you once that he can feel the blood remaining on his claws when they pull back into his skin, that it’s an uncomfortable reminder that he’s hurt people, that he’s a killer.

he doesn’t clean them himself, says the reminder is necessary. you disagree, and so you took to wiping them down yourself every time he came home after any sort of fight.

there’s a small spot of blood between each of his knuckles where the claws pierce his skin, the tiniest bit of red that welled up before the cuts could heal themselves and you wipe that away too. then you lean down to press soft kisses to his hands, the part of himself that logan hates most.

he sighs, a shaky exhale leaving him at the sight of you lowering onto your knees to worship him, to prove your adoration.

any other time that would be enough to turn the mood of the evening into something much different, but he isn’t willing to give this up quite yet, this soft intimacy that’s always felt so foreign to him, a type of love he’d convinced himself he would never get to experience.

“i’m gonna go throw our pajamas and a few blankets into the dryer. you can get the shower going in the meantime, ‘kay?” he agrees easily, of course, and you lean up to kiss him, slow and soft.

pulling away is almost physically painful but you manage. you find the fluffy hello kitty pajama pants you originally bought for logan as a joke as well as the matching set you bought yourself and grab the blanket that sits at the foot of your bed, throwing them into the dryer to warm them up.

he sleeps naked most days, a blessing for you, but on his more difficult days he likes to cuddle up to soft, plush fabrics. besides, you like to think that the silly pajama pants bring him comfort, a reminder of your love for him, that you’re thinking about him even at the most inopportune of times.

he’s in the shower when he returns, the water tinged pink as it slides down the hard, muscled planes of his body. you’re quick to undress and join him, stepping under the hot water, feeling it soak into your hair and skin.

“you’re gorgeous,” logan says, grabbing onto your waist with his large hands to pull you to his chest. he brushes your wet hair out of your face. “can’t believe how lucky i am to have you. what did i ever do to deserve you, sweetheart?”

“you don’t have to do anything to deserve me, logan,” you say, “just being you is enough. and really, you do so much for me. every day.”

“loving you is the best thing i ever did,” he admits, “i’m gonna continue to do whatever i need to keep you. wanna be with you until i die.”

you’ve had conversations like these before, usually always in moments of vulnerability, often coming after devastation and horror. he doesn’t say these types of things in the light of day, but he doesn’t take them back later either. they just stay, floating in the air between you.

one day, you think, you’ll be able to have a real conversation about the future with him. it’s a goal to look towards, but he’s not quite there yet, and you’re okay with that. you’re content with what he does tell you, praise that he marks into every inch of your body.

you use your body wash to clean him, knowing he’ll smell faintly of you afterwards, and the possessive part of you is pleased. your hands tangle in his hair, scrubbing the shampoo into his scalp. his head is tilted down so you can have better access.

it gets harder to finish cleaning him as his body leans into yours, two magnets always seeking each other.

you exit the shower before him, allowing him a few more seconds under the water pressure to pull the last remnants of tension from his form. you pat yourself dry and then hurriedly grab the garments you’ve thrown into the dryer, stepping back into the humid bathroom as logan turns off the water.

the adrenaline has made way for bone-deep exhaustion, and so you help logan dry off.

it’s peaceful, quiet, as the two of you finish your nighttime routines. he brushes his teeth and watches you do your skincare routine, unwilling to go into your bedroom if you’re not by his side.

he falls asleep before you, for once. typically, he struggles to fall asleep, worried about the nightmares that plague his slumber and the possibility of harming you while unconscious. it’s nice to see him sleeping peacefully, the stern lines of his face flattening into a soft tranquillity that only you get to see.

you can feel your eyelids growing heavy but you need to watch him just a little longer. so you fight the darkness that wants to pull you under, focusing on the hand you have placed on logan’s chest, the way you can feel the steady rising and falling of his breathing, the way his warm skin feels against the palm of your hand.

“i’ll always come back to you,” he’d told you once when you had expressed the worry that seizes hold of you whenever he’s away for long.

you’re smiling when you fall asleep, those words replaying in your mind. he’s home, with you, and as long as he comes home to you everything will be okay.

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babiebom · 10 months ago

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Heyyy! I was wondering if u could do the bachelors & bachelorettes reactin to / dating an s/o who has really intense nose bleeds when they're stressed. But plot twist bc this is literally the norm for the farmer bc they have crippling anxiety, especially social.

Thank u sm!!

A/N: I don’t know why I thought this was funny??? My anxiety just makes my stomach upset but a nosebleed in front of everyone like some sort of anxious demon is funny. Not the clean up tho. I’ve never had a nosebleed but I know they bleed SO MUCH. Also no problemo!!! Always glad to get requests!! I did different things (so not just stressed because I would’ve written the same thing for anyone I made crush aspects as sort of for stress too lmao) for each hopefully they’re good enough!

Tw: cursing, blood, anxiety, the nose bleeds are VERY dramatic because it’s fiction lmao. Physical fights(in Leah’s part), arguments(in almost all of them). Pierre hate Pam hate(kinda) Demetrius hate Morris hate. And Kel is gender neutral! let me know if there’s anything else to tag!

Wc: idk lmao hopefully at least 100 words for each

Stardew Masterlist

Sebastian:

Just frowns

Actually helps unexpectedly

….we can never talk about this happening again if you want……

It’s not often that you get to see the towns resident emo, even after visiting Robin multiple times for various building needs. So when you wander into the house, looking for Robin so you can upgrade your coop, seeing him makes your brain malfunction.

“Oh…hey farmer.” He greets, moving past you to head further into the house. You blink for a second before returning the greeting, watching as his dark hoodie disappears behind a wall.

You try to force your breathing to slow down. There is absolutely NO reason you should be this worked up over a literal one second conversation. While you sit with your thoughts, foot steps fill your ears and the sight of Sebastian returning from wherever he went makes all of your progress regress. “So…you here waiting for my mom?”

You nod quickly, clearing your throat, “yeah…um…just need to upgrade my chicken coop.”

“Oh well, she’s not in today. She usually goes to Pierre’s store to work out with the other moms.”

You frown to yourself, how did you miss that she wouldn’t be in today? Damn now all you can think about is how you just made a fool of yourself. Lost in your thoughts, you miss that Sebastian had cleared his throat a couple times until he waves a hand in front of your face.

“If you want, I can take your order and tell her when she gets home later. That way she can get started tomorrow.”

“Would you?” Your heart flips as you perk up. Was he usually this nice? You kinda heard from Robin herself that Sebastian never really interacted with people he wasn’t already friends with.

“Yeah sure.” He shrugs and moves to go around the counter, setting his slowly cooling food down. “Okay so she usually charges 10,000g and you have to have 400 logs of wood and 150 things of stone. Sound right?”

You nod and hand over the bag of money. The second your hands touch it’s like your body decided it couldn’t handle anything else from him. Luckily he just takes the money and pretends like your nose hasn’t become a geyser as you scramble to try to keep the blood from dripping all over their furniture.

Sam:

WOAH DUDE IS THAT LIKE….NORMAL?

it’s like from a movie or something

Is overall sorta scared but at the same time thinks it’s cool

“And this is how I do a kick flip!” Sam shows you skateboard trick after trick and honestly you can’t get enough of it. It wasn’t a secret that the both of you had crushes on each other, and even now it was very obvious by how you were watching him do his tricks that you had feelings for him. Yet still you two weren’t in a relationship, just sort of friends who like each other in a romantic sort of way.

“You’re so cool!” You clap as he lands another trick.

“And you’re cute!”

“What?”

You freeze in your spot and watch in confusion as he sort of freezes midway through his next trick and crashes to the ground. His words echo in your head, making your face heat up and your heart soar. He smacks his face on the ground, sending you into a panic because now all you can think about is how he thinks you’re cute, and now how he probably has a concussion from hitting his face directly onto the concrete.

When he lifts his face off the ground, you’re kneeling next to him, trying to check on him. His forehead is bleeding, his nose is bleeding, and so is his mouth. You shriek and try to go through your backpack to see if you have anything to help him. You didn’t.

You already know where this is leading, and you let out a groan of annoyance right before your nose starts leaking just like his. His eyes widen and he lets out a loud laugh. Maybe you two can move out of the weird friendship you have after all.

Shane:

Would just stare silently

Like no comments no nothing

Doesn’t even act like it’s happening

Having a part time job at Joja Mart during the winter is one of the absolute worst ideas that you’ve had in a while. But you didn’t make a lot during your first year of farming. Stacking the products onto the shelves, your only saving Grace is the fact that you’re allowed to have earphones in. Except for the fact that Pam is now standing next to you asking loudly about where something is. Shane is stacking the shelves behind you.

“I don’t know Pam…the alcohol is probably on the wall in the back.” You frown at her. She obviously knows that you don’t know this store that well, you were a FARMER that NEVER shopped here before. She rasps out another question and it takes everything in you to not snap at her. Trying to calm yourself of course there’s gonna be something else that makes you lose your mind. That something is Morris, coming over and being the absolute WORST and in turn making Pam LOUDER and more insistent.

He’s lecturing you, Pam is agreeing with him way too loudly, the music on your headphones is now overwhelming instead of calming, and the sound of random things in the market is making you want to bite a chunk out of the loaves of bread in front of you, plastic and all. With everything building up inside of you, you already know what’s going to happen. It always happens, but instead of excusing yourself you stand there, staring Morris down as the blood begins to flow from your nostrils.

Pam yells out curses and Morris begins to stutter, but behind them Shane just stares for a second before continuing to work. When you’re finally left alone with him in the aisle as your two stressors hastily take their leave, all he does is let out a dry chuckle.

“Sam has a hell of a mess to clean up…”

Alex:

Oh DUDE your nose is like….LEAKING

Doesn’t help

Just watched and comments

“AND THEN HE HAS THE NERVE TO TELL PEOPLE THAT MY HARVESTS ARE HIS BUT HE ONLY DOES IT IF ITS GOOD!” You rant to the brown haired boy, pacing back and forth in his room. Thankfully both Evelyn and George were out so you weren’t bothering anyone except for the man in front of you.

You huff and puff as he watches, slightly amused slightly concerned. Alex wasn’t the best person to go to when you’re upset unless it was something absolutely devastating. So being in front of him now, complains about your farming woes meant that he was only half ass taking it seriously. “You should go and speak your mind.” He says.

Turns out you should NOT take advice from Alex. Standing in Pierre’s shop, you’re staring him down angrily, anxiety creeping up your throat from you trying to will yourself to call him out on his bullshit. The older man just kind of stares at you in confusion because all you had done was shout his name angrily as you entered the shop then stand in front of him seething.

“You….you…..” you point a finger at him. This was the moment, the moment you stand up for yourself and tell Pierre how HORRIBLE he is!

But of course things don’t work how you want and your nose gushes out blood all over the counter before you can work yourself up to the point of accusations. With a gasp you run out of the shop, hoping that he would keep his mouth shut with Alex running behind you laughing. Again, NEVER let Alex talk you into anything.

Elliott:

Panics

How do I help PLS LET ME HELP

Everything probably gets messy

Fishing had never been your favorite pastime, but now trying to fix up the community center you had to. Unfortunately Willy was gone and couldn’t properly teach you even though he had gifted you an old rod of his, so the next best thing is getting your boyfriend to teach you since he does fish often. Now you stand on the docks, waiting for a fish to bite the hook.

“Keep calm, the fish can feel your fear and it makes them upset.” Elliott spoke. In all honesty you didn’t even know if that was true or not, but you take in a breath to calm down. You did not want to be here all day you had cows to pet.

The second your line begins to pull you try to pull the fish in. And you succeed until it comes time to unhook the eel you managed to catch. The eel is slimy and slippery and all around not a good thing to try to grip. A shriek leaves your lips and the eel struggles, Elliott tries to help you but is also struggling to catch hold of it. And now your nose is bleeding adding another layer to the already hellish experience.

You’re unhappy, the eel is unhappy, and Elliott is unhappy. After what seems like an hour, the stupid thing slips out of your grips and back into the ocean, washing your nose blood off of it and splashing you with saltwater. 0 out of 10 you will not be trying again.

Harvey:

Calm but concerned(after panicking for a second)

Has a doctory approach to it

But is secretly like WTF inside

Your heart thumps in your chest as you sit on the clinic bed. It’s been a while since you’ve been in Harvey’s clinic, having taken a break from the mines, and somehow this seems more shameful than having been beaten almost to death by living slime. Your hands bleed into the cloth you have pressed into it. One of the pigs knocked you over into the broken fence you were in the middle of fixing. Now you sit waiting for the good looking Doctor.

When he walks in he’s all smiles, tapping his clipboard with his pen. “While I’m sad to see that you’re injured, I’m glad to see it isn’t from those mines again.” The eye contact he makes with you makes your heart twist for a second.

He starts speaking of all the shots you need and the antibiotics you need to take, rust poisoning is quite serious you know. “Now,” he says, moving towards you, “let me see your hand.”

Your heart thumps erratically at the close proximity of him and you. You only really ever got to see him this close when you were half dead and barely conscious. His face is much too close for you to be able to do anything but focus on how pretty his eyes are, and how fluffy his mustache is, and how…

“OH MY DEAR YOBA” He yelps and jumps away from you. It takes only a second after him to realize what’s going on, and now your furiously wiping away at your nose with your hands instead of with the cloth, and he’s trying to get something on your nose to catch the blood. It’s a disaster, really. But at least you’re already in a clinic!

Penny:

Probably panics

Doesn’t know how to deal with it

Would try to help though

The warmth of the pool in the spa did nothing to ease your nerves as you waded in the shallow end of the pool. Penny had invited you to come sometime after 7 pm, and when you had arrived she was already waiting for you, kicking her feet in the pool. The thought of her asking you here made your stomach turn, did you do something wrong…? Was she inviting you here to tell you she hated you or something…? You had grown close to her over your time here and would hate it if she thought you were too much or something.

“Do you know why I invited you here?” She asks, moving closer but keeping her eyes on the water.

You shake your head, “I’m not exactly sure, no.”

She frowns and sighs at you, meeting your eyes for a fleeting second then looking elsewhere. “Really? I thought you would’ve noticed by now…” her words trail off and her eyebrows furrow.

The next few seconds are ones that you simultaneously want to remember for forever and forget. She confesses her feelings for you. Feelings that you obviously reciprocate, and the emotions in you mix and grow, rising up your throat as if you were a volcano of conflicting feelings. As soon as you open your mouth to tell her that yes, you like her too, her face morphs into one that’s horrified instead of hopeful, disgusted instead of smitten and you realize a second after she does that your nose is spouting red, dyeing the water you both were swimming in.

Penny shrieks for a solid second before trying to scramble out of the water as fast as she can. You do the same, swirling the red around the pool as both of you splash trying to exit the now crime scene looking pool. When you get out of the water, she’s holding a towel right in your face, smooshing it so hard you can barely breathe and now your nose is throbbing with slight pain. “What do we do?!” She asks moving about quickly. She’s so confused that she just keeps walking and turning as if she’s remembering and forgetting things at the same time.

You just tilt your head downward and cringe inwardly, this was not the way to get a girl to like you. “It’s fine…I’m fine,” you say voice nasally and muffled. “And I like you too by the way.”

Haley:

confused staring

wtf is happening

Actually speechless

It isn’t every day that you get to talk to a beautiful blonde. It isn’t even every day that you talk to anyone. So when she approaches you on one of your trips off of your farm you couldn’t help but feel like either everything is out to get you or that you’re up on your luck. You don’t really know for sure, it honestly depends on how things go.

“Hey farmer!” She smiles as soon as she stops in front of you, the feeling of your stomach twisting makes you want to vomit in all of your nervousness. “I have a favor to ask you…”

“Yeah?” You ask trying to keep your cool. “What is it?”

“I would totally love love LOVE you forever if you could bring me an amethyst? It’s for Emily’s birthday and I don’t really like Clint so I don’t wanna buy anything from him. I’m willing to pay 150g!”

You cough into your fist, nodding along and taken aback by how casually she’s speaking to you. Before you can accept doing her the favor, the horrified look on your face makes your words falter.

She looks absolutely horrified, and touching your hand to your face you can feel why. Your nose started dripping blood, and by dripping you mean you can now feel it running down to your chin. A flurry of curses leave your mouth as confused noises leave hers. It's not much of a surprise that this has happened, but man did you wish it wasn't in front of her.

Emily:

Surprisingly chill about it

Probably has a weird story about a nosebleed or something

Actually helps

You sit at the bar alone, upset at a horrible farming day. You tried your best, you really did, but those stupid ass crows actually ate ALL of your seedlings. Or…almost all of them but that’s basically the same thing! There is no way you’re gonna make enough to make it through winter comfortably. You told Emily exactly this, appreciative of her listening ear in the middle of her busy shift.

“You know they probably didn’t mean it…or maybe they did,” she sucks in a breath eyebrows furrowing as she thinks, “you know crows are very smart they probably know that you’re using that land to farm and stay there because of all the free food.”

“But it’s not free!” You exclaim, throwing your hands up in annoyance, “I have to buy those seeds! They’re just putting me into debt!”

She hums and nods, wiping the bar next to you where a person had just left. You had only a couple months left until the snow started falling and making it virtually impossible to grow anything. The little plants you had left you had to fight the crows for. And by fight I mean you angrily swung a broom at the with the intent of scaring them (not hitting them that’s mean). Still the growing anger inside you was not easily crushed by her warm and quite frankly outlandish words. No, in fact your anger grew the more you thought about it.

You felt it coming before anything had even exited your nose, hurriedly snatching the rag from Emily’s hands. Damn now you would have to buy the bar a new one. She just blinks then nods as if your nose becoming a bloody waterfall was normal.

“You know…nose bleeds cause by stress is usually because your heart rate and blood pressure increase and it causes your blood vessels to dilate!”

You stare at her before laughing. Maybe she was helpful after all.

Abigail:

WOAH

WTF

WHAT DO WE DO?

You stand in front of Pierre in front of the shop, arms crossed as you watch his face grow redder the longer time goes on. “-IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH MY DAUGHTER?” You’re not really listening to his tirade, over the whole ‘protective dad’ thing.

“Dad I’m an adult! You have no say in who I date!” Abigail yells back, face equally red. Who would’ve known that he would have a problem with the farmer he rips off constantly dating his daughter?

He yells out more reasons that the two of you shouldn’t be dating, and in turn points a finger into your chest roughly. You sputter out an offended sound, moving away from him. “Don’t touch me!”

“You shouldn’t be touching my daughter!”

“What? Dude we just started dating, you’re weird as hell!”

The arguing only gets worse from there, accusations flying around and now an audience comes with the drama. It’s almost too much for you to handle with now Caroline, Harvey, Haley, and the Milner family standing and watching the chaos. “Abby let’s just go to my place…” you try suddenly feeling the need to escape and no longer feeling the ‘fuck you dude’ attitude.

“No! He needs to understand that he can’t control my life!”

It’s like a volcano in your body and just like a volcano your nose begins to erupt. Now you’re screaming, Abigail is screaming, Pierre is screaming, the Mullners are screaming. Could this get any worse?

Turns out yeah, it can get any worse, like a family fight worse and now all of you are sitting in Harvey’s clinic. At least you aren’t the only bloody one now.

Maru:

Is surprised

Also forgets what to do

Would probably make things worse

Maru talks about robots and space the way you would talk about her: totally and completely enamored. You sit on her bed listening to her talk about her newest invention, some sort of robot that can cook and clean and basically be a free maid. You laugh and move your arm to get in a more comfortable position to watch her. Unfortunately your arm had other plans and smacked hard into her bed post. Groaning out in pain, your eyes close and begin to water from how much your elbow hurt.

Demetrius is in your face before you even realize that he was in the room. You yelp out in surprise as he starts ranting about you ruining his daughter’s future. You blink in surprise and try to retreat back into the mattress. What was happening. You can hear Maru screaming over his words but your ears feel like they’re filled with water.

“We’re just friends!” You find yourself shouting. Like damn is the man insane? It wasn’t the first time he’s gotten upset at you over Maru, but it was the first time that he was absolutely losing his mind.

“Dad stop!”

Time froze for a second as you and Demetrius stared at each other, Maru standing near him. Breathing in you can taste blood in your mouth before your nose starts bleeding, yet you can’t bring yourself to do anything but sit and catch your breath.

“Oh my god!” Both Demetrius and Maru exclaim moving around the room trying to find something to help. You couldn’t help but feel annoyed at him acting concerned now.

Thankfully Maru looked cute trying to help you which at least made things a little better.

Leah:

Is also freaking out on the inside but calm on the outside

Helps you with tissues

Is understanding

Going on a date with Leah is a dream come true. There’s paint, wine, food, and you’re sitting in the prettiest meadow you’ve ever seen, well it’s pretty because Leah is there and she’s pretty and you’ve been here multiple times because it’s near her cottage but it still looks different today.

You sit, paintbrush in hand, laughing at something she’s saying. It’s fun and if she hadn’t have asked you would’ve spent the day farming like usual, this little break was needed. The day couldn’t be ruined, absolutely nothing can ruin it.

Okay, one thing can ruin it and that one thing is Kel coming and ruining everything. The argument that ensues is one of the worst that you’ve seen. Kel tries to walk up on you(translation: Kel wants to fight you), Leah stops them but in turn gets into a fight with them which causes you to actually get up and try to defend her.

You kinda block out until you can hear Kel call out “I made your nose bleed bitch!” Which again causes you to want to drown in your anger.

“My noses is bleeding because I’m stressed, stupid!” You back. It’s obvious Kel hadn’t been able to hit your nose so claiming to be able to hit you so hard your nose bleeds isn’t even possible. It’s almost childish how the two of you argue.

Leah finally gets Kel to leave and hands you a bunch of tissues as she sits you down on the now rumpled blanket. As the two of you catch your breath and calm down, you find yourself smiling at her behind the wad of tissues catching blood flowing from your nose.

At least the situation would be funny in the future.

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slutsareteacherstoo · 4 months ago

Text

I Hope - A Terry Richmond Drabble Part 1

Phew y'all I'm so nervous! I wrote this short drabble with "I Hope" by Lizzie Berchie on repeat. It's such a hypnotic song (yearners beware!)

Wrote this for the ones seeking something a little softer, sweeter with Terry. Chile idk how to do the tags. But OC Savannah is Black.

I haven't written anything in soooo long but writing this made me feel so good so I hope you like it. Lol please don't expect anything from me in the future I'm just throwing my hat in the ring.

Black Fem! OC - Savannah (dark skinned, curvy, and disabled) x Terry Richmond (Gentle!Terry, Sweet!Terry, Nervous!Terry)

Very much safe for work! | 1k+ words | Fluff

[PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]

There is something special

I don't wanna miss it

I'm feeling celestial

You touching my spirit

Terry lowered himself on the balls of his feet. His black socks in contrast with the cream-colored rug he was on. He met Savannah at eye level as she sit at the edge of the bed. His eyes were a world of intent, passion and care. He searched her dark brown ones. They were ones filled with yearning and timid anticipation. The only sounds in the room Terry cared about were Savannah’s. Her breathing for one. They were shaky, shallow breaths. He and Savannah had had so many conversations prior to this moment, to assure her that they’d take things at her pace. That he wouldn’t step out or look for anyone else, just because she needed to go slower than he was used to. No one else was on his mind, only her. He was utterly and totally ruined by the woman in front of him. His heart was hers only. And he needed her to know that. He needed to show her — slowly and steadily.

Terry bent forward, cupping Savannah’s face in his hands. She leaned into his left hand and gave him a small smile.

“Hi,” Savannah said aloud, trying her damndest not to break eye contact.

“Hey,” Terry said mirroring Savannah’s smile, only he had more crinkles in his eyes.

The two let out a short laugh. Savannah broke her self-started staring contest and looked away. But Terry’s eyes never left Savannah. Returning her attention to Terry, she couldn’t help but be bashful and blush. Savannah felt the heat rush to her cheeks and knew Terry could too. He began to move his lips side to side, as if trying to stifle a…smile? A laugh?

“What?” Savannah chuckled. She was eyeing him more intently now, while he was the one to be evasive. “ What?” Savannah said again raising an eyebrow. When their gazes met yet again, Savannah felt a bolt of electricity zip through her body.

“It’s you,” Terry said. “I just—you really do blush orange.” The two laughed together. Savannah thought back to when she’d shared that tidbit with him. That under her deep brown skin, the neutral undertones gave way to the hue, to her tell.

Terry thumbed small circles on Savannah’s right cheek. It was a way to keep the both of them in the moment, a reminder that this moment was real.

“I do,” Savannah admitted as she was back in the unstated staring contest. She could get lost in his eyes honestly— changing from stormy seas to clear skies, planets she wouldn’t mind being in orbit with. The room was silent for a beat, save for the pair’s breathing. Savannah’s had matched Terry’s now, more calm and measured. Then, Terry spoke,

“Savannah, baby” his voice was low and quiet but it commanded her as if it were a different level. “You are in control. When you wanna stop, we stop. When you wanna continue, we continue. We don’t go any further than any of us agree to. Nothing has to happen. And there will be many times after this one where things can.”

Savannah loosened a bit at that, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She nodded and Terry continued.

“I got you. At every step, I got you. We’ll take it slow,” he brushed one of her coily tendrils behind her hair. “I’m not going anywhere”

Savannah could feel the tears well up, threatening to blur her vision. The rush of emotions going on inside her, being noisy and inconsiderate, were slowly fading. She felt more sure. So much so, that she took Terry’s face in her hands and pressed a kiss to his lips. He melted like he always did in her grasp and pulled her closer. She took in his bottom lip with fervor, as he let himself be drawn in. As she deepened the kiss, Savannah laid back against the bed, bringing Terry with her. Terry didn’t mind. Like he’d told her, she was in control. If all they did tonight was make out in her bed, he wouldn’t mind it at all. He couldn’t get enough of the feel of her lips and the taste of her tongue. Savannah couldn’t get enough of his scent, pine and rosemary mixed with his natural smell. It complemented her black chamomile and vanilla. Getting lost in the senses, Savannah hadn’t realized she was at the top of the bed, with Terry hovering over her. She opened her eyes and saw the want in his eyes. The look on his face was expectant yet cautious. Her own were a reflection of her newly settled self— this new way of being she was ready to embrace, to let free: eager and willing with a deep craving for the man above her.

“I’m ready,” she said nodding vigorously. “ I wanna try. I wanna try with you.” Terry nodded silently, moving forward to kiss across her forehead. Savannah bowed into it. He made his way from one temple to another, venturing to the side of her neck. He found himself inhaling her scent before kissing and sucking behind her ear. The moan Savannah let out surprised the both of them. It was short, high and sweet (as least Terry thought so). At the sound, he smiled into her neck, while Savannah used her hands to cover her face. Terry came out from the place behind her ear.

“Open your eyes,” Terry said firmly, still holding the utmost care and softness.

Savannah peeked out from behind splayed fingers. Terry lightly grasped her hands and put them at her sides. He’d placed his right hand under her chin, urging her to really see him when he said this.

“I don’t care what sounds you make. Nothing is too silly or too embarrassing. I’m not going to judge you for however your body wants to express itself, especially when you’re having a good time. Especially when you feel good. Because you deserve it. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” she nodded. And with that, Terry brought his lips to Savannah’s once more before resuming his exploration of her with his lips, seeking out a more inclined Savannah, slowly and steadily releasing her inhibitions to let him in; but most importantly, allowing herself the opportunity — and hopefully more to come— to let go, to allow herself permission to feel good. Terry couldn’t wait to be of service to Savannah in that regard. He’d honor whatever wishes she desired, as long as she’d let him and have him.

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

A/N: Okay y'all that's it. Watched some of The Underground Railroad today and a lot of the softness and tenderness Aaron performs Caesar with influenced this heavy.

I literally wrote this by hand in pencil, then typed it in the notes app and made minimal edits.

Also the only reason why i gave the character the name Savannah cuz the sound from Waiting to Exhale kept playing in my head. So minus the adultery, this is good man skskk

I also hope something like this for anybody reading it, especially if you need it (lord knows i do). Okay, bye sksksk 🫣🏃🏿‍♀️

Part 2

#terry richmond fic #terry richmond x black oc #terry richmond x oc #slutsareteacherstoo #writing #atiya writes #finally nigga damn!#Spotify #terry richmond x black fem!#terry x savannah

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runningfrom2am · 1 year ago

Text

leveling the playing field III

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.9k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows. this one is the arena bombing scene so yeah, regardless its not graphic so

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a/n: btw this is lowkey becoming a mix of the book and the movie so if there's inconsistencies dw about it lol, its all just a jumbled mess in my head at this point and i am for some reason working from memory

next part

"Wait! Wait! I'm here!" You call out, urging the line of mentors and tributes to wait for you before they enter the arena, running up from your father's town car with a notebook and pencil in hand.

Coriolanus was simultaneously annoyed by your arrival, delayed or not, considering he didn't expect you, and also part of him was relieved to have you at his side. Entering the arena himself was a daunting task, now that he knows that the mentors are far from safe from harm in this situation.

You're slightly out of breath as you catch up to him and Lucy Gray, panting as you adjust your bag where it sits over your shoulder. "Sorry, I'm late." You breathe out, smoothing down your hair.

"Why are you even here, Y/L/N?" Felix asks, turning from his spot in front of you to look.

"Mind your own, for once." You spit, returning your attention to Coryo and Lucy Gray. "Hey, where's Clem?"

Coryo shakes his head slightly as the line starts to move forward. "I'll explain later." He answers vaguely. You're confused, sure, but you did have bigger things to worry about. He was right. You brought your notebook to take notes on the layout, potential hiding spots, and potential advantages that Lucy Gray could exploit in the games.

"Enjoy the show!" You hear the echo from the speakers as every duo enters the arena, and you cringe.

"That's dark." You mutter to yourself, taking in your surroundings in the tunnel before being among the last few to enter. The first thing you notice is that the arena is bigger in person than on the screen, you hadn't been inside since you were a toddler- before the war. You try and pick your family's box along the top, but it's no use. You don't even have the slightest memory of this place before the games.

The next thing you notice is Lucy Gray holding onto Coryo's hand as the door slams shut behind you and the windows slide open above you. You grip your pencil tighter in your palm and look down, attempting to scribble down a layout on the page in front of you as you regain a light source. You have one job, and you'll be damned if you don't do it. For now, your best shot at earning Dr. Gaul's favour is giving Lucy Gray an advantage due only to her surroundings. Making her play the game.

"Okay, so, options are limited but I think we just need to have a good look around. There ought to be a good hiding spot around here." You say, clocking how quickly the girl drops his hand.

Focus is a priority, unfortunately, her comfort will have to come second. She'll have time for comfort once you can get her out of this arena and back to Twelve.

"What do you need, Coriolanus?" You ask, noticing he seemingly zoned out taking in his surroundings.

He tries to process what you're asking of him, but just ends up giving you a blank stare as you tilt your head, looking up at the tall boy. "I beg your pardon?" He asks, clearly having not heard a word you said.

"What do you need me to do?" You ask again.

"Well," He starts, and both of you notice at the same time that other tributes are talking and realize that alliances are being built. "Go... do that. Talk to Lysistrata." He instructs and you nod, walking quickly toward where is standing trying to talk to a confused-looking Jessup.

"Lyssie." You grin, flipping to a fresh page of your notebook.

"Y/N, hi." She says, clearly focussed in on trying to get him to pay attention to her.

"Is he okay?" You ask, feigning worry. Well, if this is Lucy Gray's only option for an ally, her odds are not looking good. That was genuinely worrying.

"I don't know..." Your classmate answers, reaching up to point out a wound on his neck. "He's got this bite... I think it could be infected. Your father is a doctor, what do you think?"

"Can you get him anything to help?" You ask, getting closer to take a better look. It does look infected, and you're unsure what it could be. You raise your hand to touch his forehead in search of a fever, but you suspect you will find one considering he is already delirious.

"Y/N!" You hear your name being called and you turn, seeing Coriolanus gesturing for you to back up.

You sigh to yourself and drop your hand, taking a step back. "I would bring him something but I don't know what would help." Lyssie sighs.

"If you can get him to agree to be an ally to Lucy Gray, I can bring antibiotics. Something strong. I'll discuss it with my father, see what he recommends." You offer, hoping to buy her a friend in the arena.

"I'll try my best." She nods. "They've been close, I can't see why not."

"I'll bring him something tonight then." You nod, patting her on the shoulder before continuing on your path of selling Lucy Gray as an ally.

You look around the large room again, looking for whoever would be her best option, and whoever of your classmates would even agree to speak with you. Sejanus- of course.

You tuck your papers under your arm as you walk over to him and Marcus. You can quickly see they aren't on any kind of speaking terms, standing awkwardly together on the opposite side of the center. "Sejanus!" You call out, and he's visibly relieved to see that someone wants to talk to him.

"Y/N." He smiles sadly, which you try and return. Empathy has never been your strong suit, but with Sejanus, you always try your best.

"I'm hoping to negotiate the terms of an alliance between Marcus and Lucy Gray." You explain and he nods, clearly unsure what to do. It would be harder to buy their allegiance, seeing as his family had more influence than yours- after all being the namesake of the prize you had dreamt of for years, and Marcus clearly has more of a physical advantage in the games than Lucy Gray.

"Uh, Marcus?" Sejanus asks, looking over at his tribute, who is blatantly ignoring the two of you. "What do you think? What would you like to do?" You admire his consideration, it must be draining when Marcus clearly couldn't care less.

"Lucy Gray would not be a threat to you. If you would take the care to look at either of us directly I would be able to promise you that." You say, taking a different approach that also doesn't work. You sigh, shrugging as you look over at your friend.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. Thank you for trying." He tries to smile and you just nod, trying to figure out who you'll ask next.

Then, your eyes land on Clemensia's tribute, alone. He looks strong, definitely the most obvious threat. Having him as an ally definitely wouldn't hurt. While it would be ideal to discuss this with Clem, your options and time is limited. He's standing nearby, just staring at one of the flags on the wall.

"It's Reaper, correct?" You ask to grab his attention, walking toward him. He spares you a glance over his shoulder, then huffs and turns away. "I have an offer for you, and I believe it's in your best interest to listen."

He doesn't look again, but you step in front of him so he has little to no choice.

"In the case that you win, which," You scoff, looking around at the other tributes, "looks quite likely, I will send you home with enough money in your pocket to feed you and your family for a year if you agree to at the very least not harm Lucy Gray in the games. And if you help her, the deal will be sweeter." You state, crossing your arms over your chest.

Before he has the chance to respond, not that he was going to anyway, you're being grabbed by the arm and pulled away quickly, making you stumble over your feet. "I told you to keep your distance. Not once, but twice." Coriolanus scolds you, pulling you back toward Lucy Gray, who you can see by now has been crying.

"You told me to talk to people! I'm trying to help Lucy Gray-"

"No, I told you to talk to Lysistrata." He corrects, dropping your arm and turning to face you. All he can see is Reaper threatening to kill him right in the back of the transport truck on the way to the zoo. Reaper was dangerous- how could you be so stupid? "You are making this so much more difficult than it already is."

You clench your teeth together, clutching your notepad to your chest now. "If you stopped thinking I'm so fragile you would see that I am helping. Don't worry about me- worry about Lucy Gray." You say after a moment of thought.

Coryo exhales heavily, looking around to see who was paying attention to the two of you fighting. The echo in this arena was not doing anything to help. "I didn't mean-"

He doesn't get the chance to articulate his thoughts before there's a loud bang, making you jump and rapidly search for the source of the noise as dust falls over the room. Then another explosion, then another, and by the way the light is disappearing in a circular pattern you can tell the arena is being bombed.

Your ears are ringing and you're now kneeling on the ground, the force of the blasts having knocked you down. You try and get up, try to make a run for the exit, only to feel an impact on your side, throwing you back to the ground a few feet away and you blackout from the hit of your head onto the dusty cement.

"There she is..." You hear your father's voice as you open your eyes slowly, blinking at the warm lighting above you. "Enough is enough." He says, and you feel a pain in your hand as he removes an IV from under your skin.

You look up at him, trying to shake off the confusion as you sit up. "Just a concussion. You were out for a few hours, if you experience any amnesia symptoms let me know, but I do doubt that will be the case."

You rub your eyes with shakey hands, nodding a little bit as your dad steps away to leave your room, where you are lying in your own bed. "Dad..." You mumble, voice hardly there.

He stops, looking at you and waiting for you to continue as you attempt to clear your throat. "Is Coryo okay?"

"I just got back from the hospital tending to everyone. Two students died, and five tributes. Coriolanus received extensive burns and bruising, but nothing was broken. He will be fine in a few days." He affirms.

"And Lucy Gray?"

"She is alive, the tributes who didn't escape or die were returned to the zoo. A vet is attending to them, I know nothing about it." He says, already on his way out of the door.

You sigh in slight relief, pushing yourself up fully to try and get moving again. Your whole body is stiff and sore, but you push through. You have a lot to do.

Thankful for your father's home stash of medications, luckily including morphing, you were able to gather medical supplies and get your driver to take you to the zoo. You would visit Coryo later, but you know he would want you to see to Lucy Gray, and so you shall.

As you arrive, you see no such vet in sight, the surviving tributes scattered around the cage, mostly either passed out or attempting to tend to their own injuries. This could be good for Lucy Gray, who looks mostly unharmed.

"Lucy Gray." You say, motioning for her to come over to the bars. She looks over Jessup laying against a rock next to her, whispering something to him before joining you quickly, grabbing the bars between you.

"is Coriolanus okay?" This is her first question, which you honestly did not expect.

Though you were taken aback by this, you nod. "Yes. My father said he'll be fine, I haven't been to see him yet." You explain, crouching down to dig through your bag for your makeshift medical kit of stolen supplies.

"What do you need?" You ask, searching already for the antibiotics you grabbed for Jessup.

"I'm fine." She insists, which you only confirm when you look her over. "Just a couple bruises, I live to sing another day."

You smile a little bit, relieved to see your tribute is at least in a better state than most of the others. "Good. I'm glad to hear it."

"Do you think Coriolanus will be back on his feet soon?" She asks, clearly very worried about him.

"I don't know." You answer honestly. "It's a good thing you have me."

"It is..." She thinks for a moment. "He said he would try and get me a guitar. For my interview, He wants me to sing."

"I'll make sure you have one." You nod. As much as you hope he'd be up and moving by the time the interviews come around in a couple of days, you know you have a guitar sitting in your brothers room that Coryo would likely ask you to borrow anyway. "This is for Jessup, I talked to his mentor, I think this should help." You tell her, grabbing the pot of topical antibiotics you took from your cupboard at home and handing it to her.

Lucy Gray nods, taking it and opening the steel lid, her first urge being to smell the cream inside. "Get him to apply it morning and night, be generous with it." You explain, grabbing some bandages as well to accompany it.

"You've got a full apothecary in that bag, huh?" Lucy Gray comments, straining her head to try and look inside.

"My father is a doctor." You explain, keeping it brief. "Don't share it with anyone else. Their injuries and ailments are to your benefit. Do you understand?"

Lucy Gray just nods solemnly, looking back at the tributes around her. "I understand." She answers, but she doesn't seem so sure. "You know, he pushed you clean out of the way."

"Sorry?" You ask, brows furrowed as you close your bag, having grabbed out the small paper bag of food for her.

"Coriolanus." She clarifies. "He saved your life, I reckon."

"Oh." Is all you can manage, pulling your bag back to his place over your shoulder. You clear your throat again, the remnants of dust and dirt still affecting your voice. "Well, I owe him a thank you I suppose. I'm off to check on him now."

"Tell him I send my love, won't you? I was awfully worried."

"I will." You mumble, making an effort to not be aggressive with how you shove the bag of food into her hands before walking off.

Your next stop is the hospital. The pit in your stomach tells you that despite your confirmation that Coryo would be fine, you're still worried as to what state he will be in when you arrive. Is he awake? Will he remember a thing? Did he really save you only to face worse injuries himself?

You're escorted to his bedside when you arrive, a small room in emergency seperated only by curtains. Tigris is sitting next to him stroking his hair gently, and he is seemingly sleeping- or still out cold. It's chillingly difficult to tell. You clear your throat to notify her of your presence, and she quickly stands when she sees you.

"Y/N." She greets you with a hug, gently rubbing your back. "Are you alright? You were there, weren't you?"

"I was." You nod slightly as you pull away, eyes once again trained on your friend. "My father brought me home to be treated there. Is he asleep?"

"Yes, just sleeping. He woke for a few moments about an hour ago, but I think he's just exhausted. Couldn't keep his eyes open for more than a minute..." She sighs, looking him over as well. She's worried, of course.

You nod, chewing on your lip. "Well, I can't stay for long, but I wanted to bring these to him." You say, once again reaching into your bag and pulling out a container of food containing some fruit and cookies. You hold it out to her, and her eyes widen for just a moment. "I'm sure he'll be starving when he wakes up, and the food here is atrocious." You try and ease her panic with a joke.

This works and she nods, accepting it quietly. "I know it's a lot for one person, but I figured you or your grandmother would be here with him. I brought enough to share." You add, implying that she is more than welcome to it too.

"Thank you, Y/N. Thats very kind, I didn't have the chance to grab anything on my way- I came straight from work." Tigris makes up an excuse, and you just nod.

"He asked about you, you know." She whispers, panic now completely replaced with a small smile. "When he woke up. You were his first concern."

You try to ignore the pit in your stomach growing and shifting as she speaks, a flush forming over your chest and face. "Well, apparently he saved me. Would have been an awful waste if that had been for nothing." You deflect, forming it as a joke.

"You are his best friend. You know that, right?" Tigris asks you quietly.

That's unfortunate, you want to laugh, but it would definitely come off as either rude or self deprecating, so you come up with something else. "Coryo means a great deal to me, as well."

Tigris tilts her head slightly, making it more difficult to maintain a straight face. "I must be going, but if he wakes again will you tell him I'm taking care of Lucy Gray?" You change the subject and she nods.

"Yes, of course. Thank you for coming, Y/N." She says again, and you spare Coryo another look over before leaving.

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#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #coryo snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #thg fanfic #thg fanfiction #the hunger games #hunger games

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peachsayshi · 1 year ago

Note

aaaah that latest chapter hurts omg can i request a gojo fluff for comfort like reader sitting on his lap, peppering his face with kisses, spoiling him idk I WANNA TAKECARE OF HIM AAAAA

➳ minors / ageless / blank blogs dni ➳ tags: fluff; early phases of an established relationship; satoru being a tad insecure

➳ notes: Im so sorry that im responding to this so late. im still not over *that* chapter. and I've been missing satoru like crazy >.< I hope you enjoy this fluffy drabble for your soul <3 let's show our boy some love

his cheeks, littered by your sweet kisses, turn crimson. satoru chuckles innocently, the glimmer in his eyes indicating that he's growing shy under the heat of your affection.

"you're so cute" you compliment, your fingers combing through the frosty blades of his soft, soft hair. you're still wrapping your mind around the fact that this gorgeous, breathtaking man is all yours.

he flashes you a dopey grin, but there's an expression of disbelief of someone who can't understand why he's receiving this love so generously.

"what's with you?" he questions, his nervous thumbs drawing circles on your waist.

you pout with confusion, twirling your arms around his neck. "nothing," you reply nonchalantly as you lean forward to peck his mouth, "just admiring how pretty you are..."

"yeah?" your boyfriend replies, his voice wavering with uncertainty and it makes your heart squeeze in your chest. "you sure you don't need something?"

placing your hands on his broad shoulders, you press yourself up to look at him and make sure that he isn't teasing you with a joke that will have you lecturing him unnecessarily. upon meeting his gaze, you part your lips in surprise. his blue eyes are detached, shimmering with disappointment that he's actually anticipating.

you swallow the lump in your throat, wondering if up until this point he was simply treated as the "rich trophy boyfriend" by all his other exes.

satoru always played off those relationships as if they didn't matter to him, but you can see the scars that were clearly left behind.

you cup his cheeks in the palm of your hands, heart melting into his lap watching his face soften from the intimate gesture. you arch forward while guiding him to meet you halfway for a kiss, your thumb outlining his pretty pink lips.

"just need you, handsome" you whisper with a smile, before following up your statement with another kiss to the tip of his nose.

you lightly trace your index finger over the apple of his cheek, watching as he circles your wrist with his hand to peck the inside of your pulse point. he returns to rest his cheek against your palm, his crystal irises gazing up at you in awe and appreciation.

he nips at his bottom lip bashfully, "alright. I'll let you keep going. this...this feels really nice..."

your body blooms with love from his cute response. you kiss the crown of his head in adoration before wrapping him up in the warmest hug you can deliver.

➳ requests are closed.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x female reader #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #jujustu kaisen fluff #satoru gojo fluff #jjk fluff #last request for the day x

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michaelsfavgirl · 11 months ago

Text

good luck charm

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: Michael is a meticulous performer, driven by the pursuit of perfection in every show. Thus, he has crafted the perfect routine to reach his goals and you're an integral part of it.

Tags: smut, masturbation, teasing, p in v, creampie, kinda switch!reader and switch!michael? idk.

Word Count: 4k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: This took an unnecessarily long time to write, I put my whole heart and coochie into it, hope y'all like it :)

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

Michael's stress level is through the roof. To say that he is frustrated is an understatement. From the moment he woke up today everything seems to be going wrong.

The day began with an unwelcome interruption, Frank, his ever-demanding manager, barging into his hotel room at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m. hastily telling him that he had to do an unplanned interview before rehearsals which made michael groan as he had to force himself to unwrap his arms around your warm body and miss the chance to kiss you good morning. The mere thought of leaving your side caused him to groan inwardly, a pang of longing tugging at his heartstrings.

As if that early morning disturbance wasn't enough, the interview itself proved to be a tedious ordeal, sucking away precious moments he could have spent with you. After the boring, repetitive interview just as he dared to hope for a swift return to you, hopefully still asleep with your head nuzzled into his side of the bed, fate had other plans. Dragged into an impromptu meeting, he received the delightful news that the equipment for the evening's show had yet to arrive from the previous state. A perfect storm of inconvenience, how lovely, exactly what he needed.

The meeting dragged on interminably, leaving Michael gasping for a breath he couldn't seem to catch. Before he knew it, it was time for soundcheck, his every moment accounted for, no respite in sight.

While he was warming up his voice and helping his dancers perfect the choreography, you stirred from your slumber with a pout etched upon your features, your hand reaching out instinctively for Michael, only to find no trace of your beloved. Confusion mingled with disappointment as you groaned and finally opened your eyes, peering at the clock, its hands indicating that noon had long since passed.

Unbothered, you reached for the remote and flicked on the television. The first thing you saw was a news reporter talking about Michael’s upcoming concert. You smiled as a picture of Michael flashed on the screen, of your beautiful man which elicited a smile from you, a fleeting moment of joy amidst the mundane. But before you could get lost in your daydreams your body finally woke up from its sleepy state and reminded you of Michael’s promise from the night before.

You don’t know what’s gotten into you lately but your hunger for him has gotten insatiable, a primal desire that refuses to be ignored. Maybe you’re ovulating, or maybe it's the absence of his undivided attention, but at that moment, the reason scarcely mattered.

Your hands drew under the smooth, silky sheets, your fingers traced invisible patterns against your skin as your gaze remained fixated on the photograph displayed on the screen before you. With dreamy eyes, you lost yourself in the image, allowed your imagination to weave intricate fantasies.

Impatience coursed through your veins, urging you to seek more tangible sensations. With a swift motion, you tugged up the hem of your nightgown, exposing the soft curves of your body to the cool air of the room. Your hands found their way to your tender breasts, cupping them with a delicate touch that sent shivers down your spine. you momentarily closed your eyes from the contact before opening them again and looking back at the image.

God, he’s so pretty, your pretty boy.

As you gently rolled your nipples between your soft fingers you let out a quiet sigh, feeling some form of pleasure as your nipples hardened beneath your touch, responding eagerly to the stimulation. With each gentle roll between your fingers, waves of sensation rippled through you, igniting a primal fire within. Despite the tenderness of your actions, there was an underlying urgency, a hunger that refused to be quenched.

Your thoughts drift to him, to the man who occupies your every waking moment. He's so undeniably beautiful, a vision that fills your heart with longing and desire. But as much as you loved him, frustration bubbled to the surface. He's a tease, a master of seduction who knows exactly how to leave you breathless.

He very well knew how much you needed him last night. you had been consumed by a relentless need, your body aching for his touch, your soul yearning for his embrace. Your desires were shamelessly pouring out of you. You had pawed at his chest, begged him to touch you. Yet, all you received were promises of tomorrow. Bastard. Where is he now hm?

Left you all alone with a slippery mess between your legs. You were so desperate you didn’t even register your legs spreading. Your fingers trailed lower, slipping past the curve of your stomach and venturing toward your needy center. With one hand still kneading your tits you let the other lightly dance over your soaked panties. You felt the heat of your poor neglected cunt with your fingertips. The undeniable wet patch on the fabric made your cheeks heat up.

You circled your sensitive clit over your underwear and instantly bucked your hips from the contact, each movement sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. As you continued to move your fingers it became increasingly difficult to keep your eyes glued to the TV. The news anchor's voice was distant in your mind, drowned out by your determination to solemnly focus on Michael.

In an attempt to replicate his touch, you hesitantly slid your trembling fingers beneath the elastic band of your panties. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you made contact with the slick between your legs. Gliding your finger between your puffy folds and succumbing to the overwhelming sensations, you allowed your eyes to flutter closed, surrendering yourself to the blissful ecstasy.

Feeling the heat building within you, your body started to emit too much warmth for your liking so you impatiently threw the sheets off of you and to the floor with a swift motion. Breathing out you readjusted yourself in a more comfortable position on the soft bedding. Breathing out you resumed your ministrations with renewed fervor, your fingers danced over your glistening pearl with increasing urgency, too frustrated to slowly build yourself to your climax.

As the intensity of pleasure mounted, you found solace in the plush pillows beneath you, your fingers dug into the fabric, trying to ease the gnawing emotions swirling inside you. Head thrown back, you whined as you felt your essence drip down your slit. Oh, how much you had wished that Michael would’ve been next to you. You yearned for his presence, craving the intimacy and connection only he could provide.

Your drooling walls kept squeezing around nothing, aching for the sensation of being filled and stretched by his cock, which made your eyes glossy, the previous pout returning to your face. Muffled sighs left your lips as you pressed the back of your hand against your mouth. Whispering his name, your voice trembling with need.

All you wanted was for him to stuff your little hole with his cock, that’s not too much to ask for right? Frustration bubbled inside you as You stroked your nub faster.

Your panties were drenched at that point, With each passing moment your arousal peaked, pulsing clit weeping for that sweet release. But just as you teetered on the brink of ecstasy, your hand spasming from the quick motions, the shrill ring of the phone shattered the erotic reverie, jolting you back to reality. Gasping at the unexpected sound you cursed the damn thing in your mind for taking you out of the arousing trance you had created.

You tried to ignore it as much as you could but the persistent ringing hindered your concentration. Groaning you reluctantly reached over to the nightstand and begrudgingly answered the call.

"Hey, sweet girl," his voice flowed through the phone, instantly melting away your frustrations and causing you to sink deeper into the soft embrace of the sheets.

"Sorry I left, Frank dragged me out to do a few things before the show and then something else came up and I couldn't get back to you and…” His words trailed off momentarily as he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, baby, truly."

“It’s- it’s fine…you just promised me something yesterday,” you replied, your fingers idly twisting the cord of the phone as you spoke.

“Oh, did I?” You could practically hear the mischievous grin in his voice.

“Don’t do this to me right now, please just tell Bill to pick me up, I miss you,” you pleaded, not caring about the desperation and neediness evident in your tone.

And now, here you were, scrambling to make yourself presentable. You discarded your underwear and straightened out your skirt, hopping on one leg as you slipped into the other shoe. Hastily fixing your hair and grabbing your handbag, you rushed out of the luxurious hotel room.

Your skin still tingling with anticipation, you hurried to the waiting car, exchanging polite greetings with Bill before settling into the seat. Pulling up the partition, you finally exhale. You feel the slickness between your folds and squeezing your legs together as your sensitive cunt throbs with desire. Sealing your lips you try not to make too much noise.

The car ride feels never-ending as you have to restrain yourself from flipping up your skirt and circling your wet center. You clasp your hands tightly together and gaze out the window, hoping the passing scenery would distract your mind from the relentless ache pulsing through your body.

As the stadium loomed into view, you eagerly opened the car door, thanking Bill breathlessly before darting towards the entrance, eliciting a chuckle from him.

The familiar faces of the bodyguards greeted you as you hurried through the halls, your sole focus fixed on locating his dressing room. Lost in your determination, you collided with Karen, his makeup artist, the collision jolting you out of your single-minded pursuit and back to the present moment.

"Jesus Christ, I'm so sorry, Karen," you blurt out, suddenly realizing how frantic you must have appeared moments ago, rushing about in pursuit of your man.

"Oh, it's alright," Karen replies, adjusting her top with a casual shrug.

"Anyway, I-" Before you can utter another word, she interrupts you.

"Actually, I've been wanting to talk to you about something..." And off she goes, launching into a monologue about something that feels entirely inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.

You nod awkwardly and force a smile, though her words seem to flow in one ear and out the other. Desperately, you glance around, silently pleading for an escape from this conversation, but she appears entirely engrossed in her own narrative. Goodness gracious, can't she see that you're utterly disinterested? You've always had the lingering suspicion that she doesn't quite like you, but that's beside the point right now.

"Sorry, K, but I really gotta go," you interject hastily, sidestepping her as you make your way towards the dressing rooms, leaving her momentarily taken aback.

You are not going to let her cock block you today, no ma’am.

You navigate the corridor, scanning each door in search of the one bearing your beloved's name until, at last, you stumble upon it. Standing before the pristine white door, you take a moment to steady your breath, waiting for the frantic pounding of your heart to ease before you dare to step inside. With gentle knuckles, you tap on the door, the mere seconds that follow feeling like an eternity as you await Michael's response.

When the door swings open, revealing his soft smile on his gorgeous face, you can't help but practically fall into his embrace. Your arms wrap tightly around his torso, your face finding solace against his chest. He chuckles, not in the least startled by your sudden affection, and returns your hug, his arms enveloping you in warmth.

"Everything okay, angel?" he asks.

"...I need you. Want you so bad," you confess, your words muffled by the embrace as you bury your face further into his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent.

Your eyes drift around the room until they settle on the plush couch. Without waiting for his response, you push him towards the sofa, urging him to take a seat. As his knees buckle from hitting the couch he settles onto the cushions, you make yourself comfortable on his lap and connect your lips hungrily.

With trembling hands, you hold his face, refusing to let him pull away as you press your body against his. Momentarily taken aback, he quickly regains his composure, his hands finding their way to your waist, where they caress your heated body with a tenderness that only fuels your desire.

As his hands trail lower, teasingly squeezing your hips, you break the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips. You lean lower and press your lips right below his jawline, where he’s the most sensitive. “Woah there, baby,” he murmurs, not entirely surprised by your eagerness but still taken aback by the transformation of his usually shy, innocent girl into an unabashedly greedy minx.

Uninterested in banter, you forgo any conversation, you leave a trail of sloppy, open-mouthed kisses all over his neck, wet tongue swirling over the freshly made hickeys.

Michael starts to feel the craving that has clouded your mind for hours and bucks his hips forward, making contact with your bare, soaked pussy. “Shit,” he moans, feeling your wetness dampening his trousers.

“No panties, hm? So naughty,” he teases.

If this was happening in any other circumstance you would’ve burned with embarrassment and hid your face behind your hands, but not now. Now, all you care about is sinking down on his lengthy cock and finally satiating your burning desire.

He massages your thighs as he inches his palms under your skirt causing your breath to catch in your throat. Taking advantage of this, he angles his head to your side and presses his plump lips against your slightly swollen ones. Hypnotized by his movements you lean in closer, letting him take over ,you relax into his arms, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt in your shaky hands.

“"Shh, it's okay, baby. Just relax and take what you need kay?” you coos at you with that sweet, soft voice of his that always makes you melt.

With a meek nod, you comply, grinding your soaked core against his hardening shaft. He guides your head to rest against the crook of his neck, adjusting his position to press his cock firmer against your eager pussy. A whimper escapes your lips as you cling to his shoulder, your plush thighs receiving gentle caresses before his hands find their way to your ass, cupping your cheeks in a tender hold which elicits a soft sigh from your lips.

“Gonna be my good luck charm, yeah?” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear.

A whispered "yes" escapes your lips as you roll your hips, your sensitive clit rubbing against the fabric of his trousers, leaving a telltale wet patch that he doesn’t seem to care too much about. He just wants his sweet girl to be satisfied and stuffed full with his cum before he takes the stage tonight.

As he kneads your ass in his big hands you feel your high creeping up on you. A flush of embarrassment warms your cheeks as you realize how quickly you're approaching climax. Michael notices your uneven breathing and firmly grasps your hips, halting your movements.

You whine from the lack of friction but he shushes you by taking off your top and loving up on your soft breasts, his lips lavish attention on your soft breasts, careful not to remove your bra in case someone interrupts. As he peppers your chest with kisses, you manage to unbutton his shirt completely, your shaky hands brushing against his toned torso, a silent plea for more.

Amidst the whirlwind of sensations and emotions swirling around you, you fail to notice the swift movement of his hands as he deftly unzips his trousers and tugs them down along with his boxers. Your gaze drifts downwards, and you whimper at the sight before you – his hard cock, weeping precum, a clear sign that he needs you just as much.

"Please," you beg breathlessly, not willing to waste a single moment longer.

Michael takes your smaller hand and gently guides it to the base of his shaft, where you struggle to fully wrap your fingers around its impressive girth. "Go on, take what you need," he urges.

Straightening your back and spreading your legs a little farther, you let your instincts take over as you feel the weight of his shaft in your hand. Slowly, you begin to stroke his cock, marveling at the way the hood pulls back to reveal his glistening tip. A guttural groan escapes his lips as he digs his fingers into the cushions of the couch to restrain himself from bucking his hips.

Drawing closer, you position his tip between your slick folds, a moan escaping your lips at the sensation of his hot cockhead against your swollen nub. With fluid movements, you glide it under your clit, your shared essences facilitating the smooth motion. Lost in the pleasure, you feel Michael's gaze on your face, his eyes drinking in every detail as his fingers tenderly caress your cheek, a chorus of praises spilling from his lips.

"Don't tease yourself, my love. I know you want more," his voice sends a shiver down your spine as you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's to come.

With a gentle shift, he adjusts your skirt higher on your waist, ensuring it doesn't get in the way as you steady yourself on his lap. Propping his cock at your glossy entrance, you slowly begin to push his thick shaft inside your velvety walls. A whine escapes your lips at the delicious stretch, your fingers gripping onto his shoulder tightly for support.

Both of your breathing quickens as you inch lower and lower onto his big, meaty cock, the tightness of your walls resisting his intrusion even as your abundant slickness attempts to ease the way. Eyes shut tight, you revel in the sensation of being filled by him, the delicious stretch of your walls sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body until the back of your thighs come to rest on top of his.

You pant heavily, pressing your forehead against his, seeking solace in his comforting presence. "Just... just need a sec," you murmur, your voice laced with a mixture of desire and anticipation, as you allow your body to adjust to his size. With a grin, Michael reassures you to take your time, his lips pressing softly against your temple in a gesture of affection and understanding.

His grunts mingle with your moans as you squeeze around his fat cock, your body finally accustomed to its massive size. With newfound confidence, you begin to move back and forth, grinding your hips against his, each motion eliciting a wave of pleasure that courses through your body. Your little clit rubs against his coily pubic hair, sending sparks of ecstasy shooting through you as you throw your head back in abandon.

Growing bolder with each passing moment, you lift yourself slightly off his length and drop down again, relishing in the sensation of being stretched with his girthy cock. You repeat this motion a few times, gaining confidence with each descent, until you find yourself bouncing on his stiff shaft.

The room is filled with the lewd sounds of skin slapping together, punctuated by your pants and moans of pleasure. As you continue to ride his shaft, you force yourself to open your eyes and gaze upon your beautiful man. His curls frame his face in a wild halo, his mouth slightly open in pleasure. Unable to resist, you lean forward and press your lips against his once more, the kiss muffling the loud noises that fill the room.

His hands guide you up and down his huge cock, setting a rhythm that drives you both to new heights of pleasure. Your cunt releases more of your juices, coating his pulsing shaft and making your movements slick and easy. Some of your essence even drips down onto his heavy balls, adding to the intoxicating sensation of being completely consumed by him.

Meanwhile, his throbbing tip leaks more and more precum, creating a slippery surface that allows you to slide effortlessly on his length. The combined sensations of his cock stretching you to your limits and his skilled hands guiding your movements send waves of ecstasy crashing over you, threatening to consume you entirely.

Michael's hand leaves your heated skin and finds its way to your lips. Without hesitation, you open your mouth and gently suck on his thumb, lost in the pleasure of the moment. Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the rhythm of your bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

Eventually, he gently coaxes his hand away from your lips and brings it down to where you're connected. His wet thumb finds your puffy pearl, rubbing tight circles that send shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your pupils dilate from the intensity of the sensation, and you can feel the familiar coil building in your lower abdomen, threatening to unravel at any moment.

"I know you're close, sweet girl," his words make you squeeze your gummy walls and whine.

Feeling that familiar coil building in your lower tummy you quicken your movements, bouncing on his thick cock like a desperate bunny, wanting to make him proud. Just as you are clenching around him you can feel him throb inside you, his own release imminent.

You're determined to milk him for all he's worth, ensuring that he won't be distracted when he's on stage. Burying your face into the crook of his neck, you whimper at the burning sensation in your thighs, but the thought of reaching your sweet release spurs you on, driving you to push yourself further.

As both of your climaxes draw near, you hold each other tightly, your warm, sweaty bodies colliding in a passionate embrace. Michael, lost in the throes of pleasure, slams his hips upwards, eliciting a yelp of pleasure from you. With each passing second, you feel yourselves getting closer and closer to that pinnacle of ecstasy, your minds singularly focused on one thing and one thing only.

And then, it happens. Your orgasm crashes over you with an intensity that leaves you gasping for breath. As the waves of your orgasm crash over you with fervor, you can't help but moan loudly, completely lost in the throes of ecstasy. Your cries of pleasure fill the room as your walls clench and unclench around Michael's cock. He continues to rub your pulsing clit, prolonging the intoxicating high as you ride the waves of pleasure.

Just when you think you can't take any more, you feel him drive his hips up, a primal groan escaping his lips. Rope after rope of his creamy seed floods your depths, filling you up completely and painting your walls with his essence. He grunts beside your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he stuffs you full of his cum, some even seeping out from the sheer volume.

As he empties himself inside you, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to his chest, both of you panting and spent. The room is filled with the sound of heavy breathing as you let yourselves calm down, your mouth dry from all the moaning and gasping.

As your breathing gradually evens out, you find yourself smiling contentedly, drawing invisible patterns on his chest with your fingers. He chuckles at the sight, amused by how just moments ago, you were bouncing on his cock with such need and now you look like an innocent angel.

"It's not funny, you tease!" you playfully poke his nipple.

"Hey, it's not my fault my shows are better when you're so needy for me," he teases back, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head as you feign a fake pout and nuzzle into his chest.

Taglist: @heartss444mj @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @youronlyonenini @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn

#kate's writing #smut #michael jackson #michael jackson x reader #michael jackson x fem!reader #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #michael jackson imagine

319 notes · View notes

7s3ven · 1 year ago

Note

hello! ur writing is so fun and rahhhh i heart it. idk if ur taking cato reqs but i love him bro its an issue. anyhow, childhood friend!tribute!reader and him coming to terms with the fact that both of them cant win. could be platonic or romantic whatever u like<3

I’m literally in love with Cato.

( master list )

DANCING WITH UR GHOST. cato hadley

IN WHICH… Cato Hadley and Y/N L/N accept there can only be one winner. The Capitol watches as one falls and the other leaves the arena with a furious heart, never quite moving on.

Warnings : not proof-read, a little bit of angst, some gore (it’s the hunger games)

—

THG TAG LIST : No one rn 💀

—

It was a hot and sunny day when the Capitol chose to announce the tributes. Small beads of sweat rolled down Y/N’s forehead as she clasped her hands behind her back. The sun was relentlessly beating down on the large group of teenagers crowded in front of the stage, organised by age and all eagerly waiting.

Y/N wasn’t like the rest of her District. She had seen how the effects of the Hunger Games weighed down on the tributes. Haymitch had turned to drinking after the slaughter of his family. Y/N couldn’t imagine returning home to see the people you held dear gruesomely bloodied on the floor.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cato. He stood out from the boys, being one of the tallest and towering over them. He had his jaw clenched and he was impatiently tapping his foot, waiting until he could leap onto the stage.

His head turned and they locked eyes. Y/N was the first to break into an amused smile and he returned it, his pale lips curving upwards.

Y/N paid no attention to the video playing on the screen in front of her. They showed it every year and she had practically memorised the voice lines by now. Her mind flashed back to yesterday, the day where Cato had suggested the unthinkable.

“What if we run away?” He questioned, making Y/N pause. She grasped the handle of her ax tightly as she spun around to face her childhood friend.

“What?” She needed to make sure that she had heard him right. It’s not like Y/N hadn’t thought of it before but for Cato Hadley of all people to ask was outrageous. He was Two’s greatest candidate. They were all counting on him.

“You heard me. What if we ran away? Away from all this and away from the games? I wouldn’t have to worry about being a peacekeeper. We could do it, you and me.”

Y/N has full faith in her axe skills and Cato’s strength but the idea was almost too crazy to pull off. She shook her head, “They’d find us.” She whispered. Y/N was glad nobody else was in the gym because this could be considered treason.

Y/N subtly shook her head. If only leaving District Two was that easy. They would surely notice if their strongest candidate and his axe-throwing friend went missing.

Her attention was caught by the lady, Kikoro, walking towards the microphone in a hideously bright yellow skirt. Beside her, Y/N heard Clove laugh.

Clove was a good friend of Cato’s and by default she was a friend of Y/N’s too. She was shorter than both of them but that didn’t stop her from snapping at people left and right. Her skills with throwing knives were amazing and Y/N often felt a little jealous. Surely the knives were lighter compared to lugging around a wooden stick with a blade attached to it.

“Now, I must warn you, there’s a new little rule. No volunteering this year.” Kikoro uttered into the microphone, her lips covered in yellow lipstick curling into an unsettling smile. She ignored the disappointed jeers from the teenagers as she reached into the first bowl. “Ladies first. It’s only polite.”

Everybody watched with bated breath as Kikoro unfolded the piece of paper painfully slow. Clove was practically shaking with excitement.

Kiroko cleared her throat before she leaned forward, glancing at the crumbled paper. “Y/N L/N.” She said.

Y/N clicked her tongue, thinking it was all a sick joke. She wasn’t scared shitless like the tributes in the paper districts were but she was disappointed. Why her and not somebody who actually wanted to compete?

Y/N begrudgingly stepped onto stage after being dragged by a peacekeeper. “Let go of me.” She hissed, yanking her arm out of the man’s grip.

“What’s your name, dear?” Kiroko asked, gesturing Y/N to step forward to the microphone. The H/C-nette stared at the Capitol citizen in confusion.

“You just said my name… Y/N L/N.”

Kikoro paused before she burst into a fit of light laughter. “Ah, sorry dear. I’m so used to volunteers. Next up, the boys.”

Y/N hoped her District partner would be someone useful who she could discard later. Someone strong but not too strong as to overpower her.

As Y/N rocked back and forth on her heels, she glanced over at Kikoro who was now unfolding the second paper. She read text written in black ink before grasping the microphone.

Hearing her own name getting called didn’t frighten Y/N but as Kikoro declared the male tribute, her heart dropped so fast that she may as well collapsed. It was the one person she wished hadn’t been chosen.

“Cato Hadley.”

The train ride was silent. Enobaria had tried talking to the pair but they never replied. Eventually, she gave up and went to a different compartment.

“We should’ve run away.” Y/N quietly muttered, suddenly regretting not putting the absurd plan into action. Across from her, Cato chuckled.

“Yeah…” He paused, refusing to believe that this was really happening. That he’d have to kill his best friend if he wanted to survive. He was brought back to the harsh reality as the train bumped along the tracks.

“You should’ve played dead… or something.” Y/N stirred the spoon around in her cup of coffee, having no intentions of actually tasting the bitter drink. She licked her dry lips. “What happens if we’re the last ones left?”

Cato didn’t have the courage to answer. He pushed his food around with his fork for a few moments before finally lifting his head. “May the best win.” He uttered.

Y/N glanced out the window, staring at the tall buildings of the Capitol in the distance. She took a deep breath as the train quickly approached the large city and their impending doom.

The days in the Capitol were limited. And they passed by fast. One minute Y/N was standing in front of the dummy targets, skilfully throwing axes as their heads then the next she was in front of a crowd in a glittery gold gown.

“You’re a fan favourite, Y/N. How does that make you feel?” Caesar, with his crazy blue hair and matching suit, said as he widely grinned.

“I guess I’m just that charming.” Y/N smiled as she leaned back in her seat, gracefully crossing one leg over the other.

“Our time is almost up but may I ask the question that everyone has been wondering? What on earth is going on between you and Cato?”

The Capitol had caught wind of the small stolen glances and borderline flirtatious kisses on the knuckles. Y/N shifted in her seat as she recalled the event before this very interview.

“You look…” Cato entered the room, practically starstruck as Y/N stood on a small platform. “Wow.” She frowned as she adjusted the tight bodice of her dress.

“Really? Because right now, I can’t really breathe.” Y/N let out a small laugh but she felt her corset suffocate her lungs.

“Does this look like a face that would lie to you?” Cato grasped Y/N’s hands and helped her off the platform. “I mean it. You look stunning… almost makes me wish we were getting ready for a ball instead of this.” Cato’s face was so close. Y/N couldn’t help but let her eyes dart to his lips.

“You look handsome too.” She playfully grinned as she straightened Cato’s tie. “Blue suits you.”

“We’re just friends.” Y/N repeated that overused phrase while the Capitol citizens groaned in frustration. “I don’t know what you want me to admit… Cato is handsome but I can’t imagine dating someone I’ve known since childhood… his face is getting a little annoying.”

Y/N’s cheeky remark earned her a few laughs.

“If given the chance, I probably would’ve liked to kiss him once, you know?” Y/N’s confidence grew and she forgot all about how Cato could hear her words through the small screen in the waiting room. She folded her arms over her chest just as the timer buzzed.

“Y/N L/N, everybody!” Caesar declared.

She stepped off the stage and back into the shadows, away from the piercing lights. Glimmer and Marvel had already returned to their rooms and Y/N was about to do the same before Cato came into view.

She saw him wave enthusiastically at the crowd but his eyes were on her. She shrank back, suddenly aware of what she had said during the interview.

Y/N scurried off before Caesar could even ask Cato one question. She stormed into the room assigned to District Two. Enobaria was sitting on the couch, clicking the TV remote buttons.

“Need help getting out of that dress?” The sharp-toothed woman asked. Y/N silently nodded.

“Thank you.” Y/N said, finally able to breathe properly again. She would never take oxygen for granted again.

Y/N was only dressed in a black singlet and shorts when Cato burst through her personal room door. “What was that?” He demanded, slamming the door behind him. “If given the chance? I’m giving you the damn chance, Y/N!”

Y/N let out a squeak of surprise when he grabbed her face and pulled her forward, swiftly kissing her like he had been waiting to do so for years. With how his hands trailed down to tightly grip her waist, Y/N wouldn’t be surprised if Cato had been dreaming of this moment.

Cato pulled away, resting his forehead on Y/N’s. “How’s that for a given chance?”

The sun in the arena felt different. Its heat was blistering and Y/N felt her body burning up underneath her heavy jacket. She wanted to discard the warm piece of clothing but it would come in handy at night.

The Careers had already made their allies clear. Y/N glanced at Cato who was already staring at her as usual.

To Y/N’s left was Glimmer, who was impatiently tapping her foot as the countdown began. Y/N stared at the decreasing numbers until it reached five and she had no choice but to get ready to run.

This was no mere dream, it was a reality that Y/N wish she didn’t exist in, for Cato’s sake.

To no one’s surprise, Cato was the first to react as the countdown finished. He leaped off his podium, immediately making a run for a silver sword. Some tributes turned tail and ran but those who joined the mess in the middle were gruesomely stabbed by Cato.

Y/N grasped a pack of throwing knives, tossing the sharp objects at anything that moved. She managed to cut Katniss’ cheek and the ravenette was not pleased about that. The District Twelve girl shot an arrow Y/N’s way but she ducked and avoided it.

“Y/N, here!” Cato tossed a fancy looking axe her way. She easily caught it, swinging it at a foolish boy who thought he could beat her.

The bloodbath didn’t last long thanks to Cato. He either killed or drove off any of the remaining tributes. “I’m feeling pretty good about this.” He grinned down at Y/N as they waltzed around the Cornucopia. He twirled his heavy sword in his hand.

“You’re in a good mood.” Y/N muttered. The hunger for bloodshed had clouded Cato’s mind, causing him to forget that Y/N would have to die in order for him to emerge victorious. She said nothing about it, though, not wanting to spoil his cheerful mood.

“I’ll be in a better mood after this.” Cato chuckled to himself as he pecked Y/N’s lips. He held her close, burying his face in her neck.

Y/N stood still, awaiting the moment where they would be forced to turn on each other. Out of the pair, Y/N had always been the rational realist.

Glimmer was dead, filled with toxin after Katniss sabotaged the Careers’ camp.

Marvel was next. Katniss skewered him like a kebab with her arrow. He died on the forest floor, joining Glimmer in Katniss’ kill count.

And then there were two. Y/N had narrowly avoided being bashed in the head with a stone by Thresh. The side of her head was still bleeding, the crimson liquid staining the green grass below.

Y/N groaned as she collapsed beside Cato, leaning against the large tree trunk. “Who’s left?” She rasped. She had heard a canon go off but she had no idea who it was.

“The boy from Eleven, the pair from two, and us.” Cato replied, his shoulder brushing against Y/N’s. He pulled out a small tin bottle, handing it over to Y/N. She gratefully took a large gulp of cold water. “Don’t worry, we’ll get home.” He whispered, “You and me forever.” After Y/N’s near death experience, Cato realized that the Capitol had played him as a fool. But he was happy about the announcement that said two victors could win if they originated from the same District.

Y/N leaned her head on Cato’s shoulder and closed her eyes, deeply sighing. She didn’t know when she dozed off or how long she was asleep but she cracked open one eye to see Cato hurriedly shaking her.

Night time, the Careers’ prime time to hunt, had already past. When Y/N’s eyes finally adjusted to the light, she furrowed her eyebrows. She was in a cave yet she remembered falling asleep on the forest floor. And Cato was covered in bites and gruesome grazes and blood. So much blood.

“Cato…” Y/N breathed, quickly leaning forward, “What happened to you?”

“I killed Katniss and Peeta… and the mutts killed Thresh. It’s you and me left, Y/N.” His sounded sounded so weak and he sluggishly cupped her face, panting heavily. For once, he was covered in his own blood rather than the blood of his victims.

“You drugged me…” Y/N’s heart fell to her stomach as she realized what had happened. Cato had slipped sleeping pills into the water and while she was knocked out, he put her in a cave and went to hunt down the three other tributes. She furrowed her brows. “How could you? Cato… you could’ve died.”

He let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah… I know. That was kind of the point. While you were asleep, they revoked the two victors rule. There can only be one again.”

That was enough for tears to well up in Y/N’s eyes. “Don’t leave me… please.” She cried as she held Cato, her childhood friend and her first true crush. His blood stained her muddy clothes but she didn’t care. “Please…” She trailed off as Cato wheezed.

“The mutts did a good job on me.” He muttered, finding it harder to stay awake. Y/N’s eyes widened.

“No. Cato. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me here!” She immediately noticed how his pulse slowed down. “Stay awake, Cato! I can fix this! Please.”

Y/N had already come to terms that there could only be one victor but she had yet to accept that fact that she had to lose Cato to walk out.

“You can’t give up now… we came this far. We can sort something out.” Y/N uttered as she shook Cato in a fruitless attempt to convince him.

“I love you, Y/N.” He grasped her hand, squeezing it tightly. “I always have. Ever since we became friends. Ever since you were the first to find the courage to talk to me. I don’t know what I would have done with you.”

Y/N laughed as a sob bubbled up in her throat. “I love you too. If only your name wasn’t called. I could’ve won the games and come back to you.” She shakily sighed as she leaned down to kiss Cato’s cold lips. She placed her hand on his neck and when she felt no pulse, she pulled back in a panic.

“Cato?” She shook him once. Then again. “Cato?!” She repeated, this time louder. “No… no… no! Don’t leave me here! Cato!”

She screamed so loud that the sound echoed around the forest, scaring the birds and causing them to flee.

“Cato!”

Y/N walked out of the arena a free woman. Not quite since Snow would still have full control over her but she liked to think she was free to a certain extent.

The Capitol workers had tried to discard of the necklace she held so tightly in her left hand but she refused to let them take it away. It was the only remaining memory she had of Cato.

Anger swirled around in her heart like a monster, threatening to burst free and reign terror over anyone that came in contact with her.

Only now was Y/N realising why the victors never looked genuinely happy despite having everything they wanted. It was because Snow tore their deepest desires away, always holding it near but never within their reach.

Enobaria had wanted to be a mother.

Gloss wanted a peaceful life with his sister.

Cashmere wanted nothing more than to take care of the children in District One.

Brutus craved freedom from Snow’s cruel clutches.

And poor Y/N dreamt of becoming a bride but as she watched the light drift from Cato’s eyes, her wish was swept away with it.

Now, Snow had nothing to take away from her because the person she loved the most was already gone.

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justmystyles · 1 year ago

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Was thinking how fun it would be to meet harry at an art museum. Like what if y/n had an assignment for grad school that she put off until the last minute, and so she finally gets to the museum and it's closed for a private tour (Harry's). She sweet talks a guard into asking harry if she could enter the museum, just to look at one painting for a bit. Harry is initially annoyed but agrees and is pleasantly surprised that she doesn't try to interact with him. Before he leaves, he goes to where she is and apologizes for closing the museum, and idk asks her to join him for lunch? It goes from there with flirting and a quick no strings fling

A Work of Art

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 1.3k

summary: after procrastinating for a few weeks, you finally make moves to finish your assignment, but run into an unexpected road block.

a/n: thank you so much for this ask, my friend! i'm so sorry it took me so long to get it out. i hope it was worth the wait!

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

“Sorry miss, we’re closed.” The guard said, stone faced.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath. It was your own fault for waiting until the last minute, but you thought you had all day. “But you’re supposed to be open until five.”

“We’re closed for a private tour.” He responded, showing no sign of emotion.

You let out a frustrated groan, your paper is due at midnight and there was no way you were going to finish without getting in there and looking at that painting. You pace back and forth on the sidewalk, trying to figure out your next move. All that comes to mind is begging and pleading.

You take a deep breath and step back up to the guard. “Please, there has to be something you can do. I only need to look at one painting. Maybe if they are done in the room I need to be in, I could just go straight there. I won’t be a bother, I promise.”

The guard rolled his eyes, groaning in frustration. “You’re not going to leave until I ask, are you?”

“Nope!” You said with an obnoxious smirk.

“Wait here.” The guard said sternly before turning and walking into the museum.

He returned with a second guard, and the nerves started to set in. Were they going to physically remove you and ban you from the museum for life?

“Alright, here’s the deal, " the original guard began. “You’re going to go see your painting, but you go straight there and you stay there until it’s time to leave. My friend Hank here will be with you to make sure you don’t go rogue.”

You nodded in acknowledgement. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

“Phone please,” Hank holds out his hand, palm up.

“My phone?” Your brow furrows in confusion.

“The party that rented out the space will only let you in if you give us your phone, for his privacy. You’ll get it back when you’re done.”

You don’t understand who this mystery museum goer could possibly be, but they were obviously a big deal. You hesitantly relinquished your phone, and Hank led you into the museum, walking you directly to the room where your painting was housed.

As you studied the piece, taking notes as you evaluated each color choice and brush stroke, your mind couldn’t help but wander to the other person currently wandering the museum. You secretly hoped your paths would cross, just out of sheer curiosity of who it could possibly be.

“Are you finished yet?” Hank asked with a hint of annoyance.

“It would be quicker if I had my phone, so I could take pictures.” You matched his tone.

He rolled his eyes, pulling your phone out of his breast pocket and handing it to you. “Pictures of the painting only. No flash.”

You gave him a mock solute, immediately opening your camera and taking a few shots, zooming in on particular areas. You were so focused on the painting that you didn’t hear the footsteps coming up behind you.

“Phone, now.” Hank snapped.

“What? But I’m not done!” You protest.

“It’s alright, she’s fine.” Another voice pulls your attention and you turn around, seeing Harry Styles standing behind you.

“Thanks,” you mumble, returning your attention to the painting and taking a few more pictures.

Harry watches you curiously, he had expected a bit more of a reaction when you saw him. You had gone through all this trouble to sneak into the museum he had gone to the trouble of booking out, specifically so he wouldn't be bothered. He allowed you in, against his better judgment, but you weren’t a problem at all. He felt oddly disappointed by that.

Once you had taken your final pictures, and one more glance at the painting, you turned to Hank and let you know you were ready to go. He nodded and started to lead you toward the exit.

“Wait!” Harry called, stopping you in your tracks. “I just wanted to apologize for closing the museum.”

“It’s fine, I ended up getting what I needed.” You shrugged. He obviously didn’t want to be bothered, that's why he had the museum shut down in the first place.

“Well, would you like to walk around the rest of the museum with me?” He asked, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Thanks, but I should get home and finish my assignment.”

“Aww, c’mon,” his tone became more playful. “How often are you going to have a whole museum all to yourself?”

You study his expression, trying to figure out why he’s gone from no phones, don’t bother me to wanting to walk through the entire place with you. “Why?”

“As a peace offering, for making things difficult on you.”

You stood in silence for a moment as you weighed out your options. He was right, this was probably a once in a lifetime opportunity. Complete, unobstructed access to the entire museum. “Sure,” you finally agreed.

As you moved to the next room, Harry looked at you curiously. “So what was it about that one painting that you absolutely had to get in here today?”

“I’m an art history major, and I have an assignment due tomorrow analyzing that piece.”

He stopped, turning to you with an arched brow. “And you’re just getting around to looking at it today?” You shrugged in response. “How long did you have to work on this assignment?”

You rolled your eyes at his comment. “Okay mom, thanks.” You both chuckled.

“So,” Harry continued on. “Art history, that’s pretty cool, how’d you end up choosing that?”

You talked to Harry a bit about your love of art, and the things that led you to selecting your major, as well as the panic your parents had when you chose such a niche field of study. The conversation flowed easily between the two of you. You got to know each other, and discussed the art around you, sharing what you saw in the pieces, and how they made you feel.

When the two of you returned to the entrance, you looked down at your watch with wide eyes. The two of you had spent three hours going through every square inch of the museum, and you actually had a really great time. When you first saw Harry, you were annoyed, he was just an entitled celebrity making the world harder for everyone else just to get his way. But after spending time with him and getting to know him, he actually turned out to be really down to earth, and pretty cool. You felt a pang of disappointment knowing that you were about to part ways.

“Thank you,” you said to him, looking into his kind green eyes. “For letting me in to look at my painting, and also for walking around the museum with me.”

“It was my pleasure,” He smiled kindly at you. “It was actually way more fun to walk around with someone who knows what they’re talking about.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Harry. You had some pretty insightful things to say back there.”

He grinned wide, his dimples on full display. “Oh stop,” he waved his hands playfully. “Hey, you want to go grab a bite to eat?”

“I would love to but I’ve got–”

“Your assignment to finish.” He completed your thought. “I know, but you’re not going to get anything done on an empty stomach. Come on, my treat.”

He gives you a hopeful smile, as if he doesn’t want to leave you yet. You definitely don't want to leave him. “Yeah, sure.” You agree, trying to play it cool.

“Great! C’mon, I’ve got a car waiting out front!” He held the door for you and the two of you made your way to his car, and then on to dinner.

You submitted your assignment just before the deadline, and you walked away from dinner with a kiss on the cheek and Harry’s number. All in all, it was a good day.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles meet cute #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n

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d1g1tal-d1ary · 5 months ago

Text

Slow morning in Paris // Alex Turner

Summary: Alex and his girlfriend desperatly needed to get out of London. Both booking a spontaneous getaway to Paris, they end up enjoying themselves the next morning in every way possible.

Tags: smut, f!reader, fucking, basically porn without a plot but idk, my first ever written smut, fucking, love, p in v

I lost myself in his side profile. His dark hair which wasn't styled yet, the way his mouth was agape just enough for the smoke to escape but most of all; his eyes. I loved his perfectly curled lashes, the way his eyes would dart from the street to the balconies on the other side of our apartment but I couldn't help but think of the times they gazed upon me - took in my features and mesmerized every detail I never even noticed myself.

"Good morning, love," he said with a smile, his eyes lingering on my naked form which was only partially covered by the sheets.

"Good morning," I mumbled between a yawn before turning onto my back but still watching his every move. "How long have you been awake for?"

"Not long," he assured, took a last hit and snipped the cigarette down the open window. "The traffic woke me up. We forgot to close the window last night."

I stared at him after taking in his words; on one hand because I couldn't believe we really booked that flight only 24 hours prior of us being in Paris but on the other because the memories of last night came flooding, alerting me that we weren't being exactly quiet.

"You're lying," I murmured. I covered my reddish face with both of my hands, too ashamed to face the real world. All I wished for in that moment was for him to take me just as good as he had done the night before, letting me forget about the rest of the world.

"I wish I was," he chuckled and I could feel a weight pressing the matress next to me down and his fingers lingering on my stomach. "But who cares? We're in Paris, babe, everything that happens in Paris, stays in Paris, doesn't it?"

After a moment of silence, I took my hands from my face and faced him; the way he was also dressed in only his boxers made me want to reach out and show him my love for him as close as possible.

All I was able to do was hum in response, slowly sitting up and reaching out so my hands were running through his hair. Soft, so soft was all I could think of. I felt him slightly lean into my touch but I didn't miss how his hands were exploring my body as well. His hands were touching my thighs before softly beginning to knead my breasts; making me moan in response.

"God, I will never get enough of you, darling," was all I heard before he pulled me on top of him and immediatly pulling me into a passionate kiss. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd really never get enough of me; if he'd grow old with me but those thoughts were quickly drowned when his one hand was gripping my ass and his other was teasing my slit, so wet, so wet already from just kissing.

"Fuckin' dripping, aren't you?" he groaned before he was rubbing my clit just the way I loved it. I squirmed and moaned and I could no longer return his slow and sensual kisses which made him continue plastering my neck and jaw with kisses instead.

"I'm- ah! comin', Alex," I was gripping his shoulders tightly by now, more riding his fingers against my clit than him moving them in any way and I had thrown my head back, giving him the perfect view of my tits.

"Cum for me, love," he whispered and watched me intensly. Not a moment had passed when I moaned his name out loud, shuddering from the orgasm while my eyes were shut tightly.

He gave me a few seconds to come down from my high before grabbing my face and pulling me into another kiss, but this time sloppier and I could already feel him grinding against me, eager to find some friction. I didn't hesitate and pulled down his boxers, freeing his cock. His cock felt so familiar in my hands; practically made for me which made me moan even though he was the one being pleasured while I was stroking it a few times.

"I want to be inside of you," he whispered and I quickly nodded. I arose onto my knees before lining him up and sinking down on him. Both of us escaped a loud moan when I felt him fill me up completely.

"Fuck, Alex," I sighed and his hands found their way back to my ass.

"I know, darling, I know," he exhaled shakily, nodding and groaned when I began to move up and down, slowly finding a rhythm.

I was watching him; watching him grimace in pleasure. The pleasure I was giving him. When I had found a steady rhythm, I started playing with his hair, pulling on it or just admiring the way he still looked so beautiful even though I could see a bit of sweat on his forehead.

"You're so beautiful, Alex," I mumble hastily before moaning again as he had hit that sweet, so bittersweet spot within me.

"No, you are," he finally looked up at me and our eyes met. "I get hard just watching you sleep because you're so fuckin' admirable."

I squirm and feel myself reaching my high and by the way he was panting, I knew he was also close.

"That's it, love," he groaned again and I could feel tightening around his cock at his words. "God, you're- fuck, I wish I could stay in you until I die."

After having heard those words, I came undone around him and eagerly bounced on his cock, riding out my orgasm. Not long after, he followed. I felt his cock twitching, his cum shooting into me and I wanted to savour this feeling as only he could make me feel like this; so at home, so comfortable after sex.

(This was my first ever written smut?? Any Feedback? Is it good or bad??!! Hope y'all love it :3)

#smut #alex turner #arctic monkeys #fanfic #fanfiction #alternative #music #smut fanfiction #alex turner smut #writers on tumblr #poetry

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teecupangel · 2 years ago

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After reading a couple of fanfics(i have lost track of what ive read XD) where Desmond uses the Eye to connect to Ezio in the library and send him back to his 17 year old self to save his family: I got the idea/prompt that when Ezio awakens back in the past he rushes to his family, ignoring a golden thread of Importance. It cant be more importsnt than his family, surely? Either way, Ezio ends up discovering he has like 1-2 day to save his family(im unsure of the timeline, but i imagine he lands before he gains his scar). So, he rushes to save them. Here i kinda get a bit lost, im not very good at planning, but i imagine he ends up killing Alberto and exposes him as a traitor to his father etc. Eventually, after a few days things finally calm down enough that Ezio can finally check out that object his Sight has tagged as Important without feeling guilty for leaving his family alone. He follows the thread to a orphanage and there he sees a 1-2 year old with a scar on his lips and brown eyes that flash a very familiar gold when the child sees Ezio. "Desmond?"

So basically, the Eye damaged Desmond too much, so when he went back in time with Ezio, he had to be recreated. You could give him the charcoal black arm with golden lines or even his tattoo(could be interesting seeing peoples reaction to a child having what is percieved as a criminal brand?). Heck, maybe even give golden fluffy wings that he can hide? Idk, i mostly just want/need fatherly!Ezio bonding with baby!Desmond and this idea has rapidly gone out of control in my head. XD

but yeah, basically Ezio decides that Desmond has given him such a gift with allowing him to save his family, that now Ezio will take care him(he also feels pretty guilty ignoring the Important glow for so long). He just needs to figure how to get his family accept what is looking like to be his motherless bastard, hopefully withoit too many questions. I also imagine Ezio gets the iconic scar this time from a fight with Vieri when he throws insults at Desmond for being "lesser": being a bastard and an Auditore in one package.

So, whats your thoughts on this? Anything you think is missing or want to add to?

Transferring him right as he gained his scar (like the rock hitting him was the trigger) would also serve as some kind of symbolism of his connection with Desmond, not just due to the similar scars but also because that is the first memory Desmond relived as Ezio (as long as we don’t count his birth). That would also give him 3 days max since the scar incident was on December 26, the guards tried to arrest the Auditores on December 28 and the execution would be on December 29.

Also, if you want to really hammer in Ezio feeling guilty about leaving Desmond for so long, a plot point could be that Ezio assassinates Uberto Alberti and he was able to prove to Giovanni that Uberto was a Templar BUT not that he was planning anything against the Medici or the Auditore. Perhaps, a simple Templar ring was all Ezio could give to Giovanni and telling him he was planning it with another man that Ezio hints to be Rodrigo Borgia without flatout saying it’s Rodrigo Borgia since he, as his teenage self, shouldn’t even know who the Borgias are at this point in time. This becomes a scandal all by itself and not even Lorenzo could protect the Auditores, telling them to leave Firenze as quickly as they could. Stand down and keep a low profile for now.

This leads to the Auditores leaving Firenze quickly and asking for sanctuary in Monteriggioni. Ezio would stay there to make sure everyone is safe and also to be ‘trained’ as an Assassin because Giovanni believes he could no longer wait until Ezio is as old as Federico to tell him the truth because of what Ezio has done.

Ezio also has to stay to show Giovanni that he wasn’t some rabid dog that would bite anyone.

This can range from months to even 2 years (technically 1-ish year since Ezio returns to the past in December) which is the same time frame Ezio had to train with Mario and his mercenaries in the previous timeline.

Either way, Ezio finally gets a chance to check on the important gold once he’s been deemed ‘good enough’ to go to Firenze while Federico goes to Roma with Giovanni as part of his training and maybe even ‘final test’.

And then he finds Desmond as a 2-year-old child who isn’t liked by the other kids because he was ‘creepy’ and they say he’s the devil’s child. Maybe Ezio didn’t recognize him immediately but their eyes met and Desmond’s eyes flashed gold and Ezio’s first instinct is that he does know him. He doesn’t remember when but he does know this child.

The one in charge of the orphanage finds him looking at Desmond and he tells him about how Desmond was heard crying somewhere Ezio knows all too well.

It was the same place Ezio had died on, the very same bench…

Someone gave him to the orphanage and they have nothing of him, he had been left naked in the cold that they feared he would have died had he stayed there any longer.

Then to hammer in the guilt, the reason why the children believe Desmond is the devil’s child is because of the charcoal black arm he had that no doctors could explain other than ‘he had been burned’ and Desmond had cried each time they tried to ‘examine’ it with their tools.

So Ezio takes him in, not knowing what else to do.

Then, it’s only the next day after he dreams of the only time he saw Desmond in Altaïr’s library that he puts two and two together and realized that the child was most definitely Desmond. He had to be.

And now, Ezio believes that Desmond is the reason why he had a redo and that he had failed Desmond for letting him be alone for so long.

He wouldn’t even think that people would think Desmond is his son until he hears it from one of the courtesans and he’d be like “Oh! That’s a good idea! I’ll just say he’s my son so people would stop asking questioning about who he is!”

And that was a mistake because now everyone believes he has a child out of wedlock. Perhaps Cristina would even think he had cheated on her considering Desmond’s age and now he has to suffer through his family’s questioning and lectures about having a child out of wedlock.

Then Desmond’s back starts getting itchy and later on it starts growing a pair of lumps…

That breaks his skin painfully, revealing puffs of feathers red with his blood but, after cleaning him (and trying to get him to stop crying because “Owie, papa! Owie!”)…

Ezio sees the feathers were white…

With lines of gold that he has become familiar with in his previous life.

#aunt claudia gonna whoop papa ezio’s ass that’s for sure #federico and petruccio vying for best uncle #unfortunately #they both lose to leonardo who makes the best toys #leonardo also gets roped into staying in monteriggioni because ezio asks and promises to be his patron #leonardo is just a bit confused why this man he had met 2 years ago is suddenly asking for his help #but he will give it anyway #assassin's creed #desmond miles #ezio auditore #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot

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meiliarotten · 2 years ago

Text

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time

Day 27: Nice View (Exhibitionism)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Medic x Fem!Reader

Summary: Medic fucks the reader against a window, idk how else to summarize this.

Tags: Exhibitionism, hotel, kinda soft actually

Word Count: 2k

The Masterlist

Medic claimed that he was going on this trip to the city on ‘official business.’ You both knew that was a thinly veiled code for ‘smuggling countless exotic animal parts past the prying eyes of the authorities’, but you couldn’t really complain. At least he had brought you along this time, and since you were with him, he spared no expense.

Your suite was lavish, located on the upper floor of the hotel. A massive bed, a jacuzzi-style bathtub, basically all the luxury you could ask for, and a gorgeous view of the city to top it all off. The massive window in the suite’s main bedroom offered sights of the urban environment all the way out to the horizon, where the street lights and skyscrapers began to look like stars against the night sky.

Still, you found yourself rather lonely. Medic was going out most of the time, leaving you alone in the hotel. Not that you really wanted to be involved with baboon uteruses, or hearts, or god knows what else- but it would be nice to spend some more time with him. The novelty of such a luxurious room faded when there was no one to share it with.

On your last night in the hotel, Medic had come back late, per usual. You were already in bed, only to be woken up by the sound of the ice machine and some shuffling in the bathroom. When your vision adjusted to the darkness, you caught sight of Medic, looking unusually disheveled, his shirt hanging loose and half buttoned as he prepared for bed. It was a rather attractive sight, and it was apparently enough to stir up a sense of need that you had been ignoring until now. You sat up with a soft smile, one that he returned when he noticed you weren’t asleep.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, liebling.” His words came out in a whisper, as if you were still half-asleep. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“It’s alright. I wasn't very tired anyway,” you said before pulling him down onto the bed by his shirt. He let out a short gasp, clearly startled as he practically fell on top of you, right where you wanted him. You paused, but the moment you saw that familiar smirk on his face, proceeded by pressing your lips against his, growing a bit more desperate with every passing moment.

“I missed you,” you whispered between insatiable kisses.

You felt Medic’s grin before you saw it. His hands ran up your thighs and you shivered. Frantically, you began to undo the remaining buttons on his shirt, parting the fabric and running your hands over his chest. One of his wandering hands began to trace along the waistband of your loose fitting sleep pants. You gasped when he ran his hand beneath your clothes, rubbing you through your undergarments and humming in amusement.

“So wet, and we’ve only just begun. You really are pent up, aren’t you, liebling?” He continued to touch you through your underwear, feeling your arousal soak the fabric. “I have been neglecting you for far too long.”

In a kind of frenzy, you quickly stripped off your pants and underwear, giving Medic full access to you. Whimpers and gasps were easily drawn from you as he began to rub circles around your clit.

“Oh ja, liebchen, keep moaning like that.” Medic’s fingers dipped lower, entering you with ease while his thumb continued to stimulate your clit without pause. Needless to say, you certainly weren’t about to stop. “Sometimes I wish I could show everyone how good you feel beneath me, how nicely you cry out for me, so everyone can know that you're mine.”

The way he spoke those words had a possessive note to them, and you found that you couldn’t get enough of it. In fact, that little scenario he had suggested- taking you in front of an audience, making you scream for him while others bore witness- it sounded quite appealing.

Medic immediately noticed that he had piqued your interest, acknowledging your reaction with a low chuckle. “Oh, that makes you shiver, doesn’t it? The thought of being seen like this, being pleasured by me, letting everyone know exactly who you belong to?”

He kept teasing you, but you paid it little mind. Your attention had been drawn towards that ever so large window, a rather bold idea beginning to take shape. There was a touch of hesitation. You were frightened by the prospect of being seen by complete strangers, but then again, you and Medic were leaving tomorrow. You would most likely never see any of those random people on the street ever again, and even if you did, they probably wouldn’t even recognize you since your room was on such a high floor.

Why the hell not?

“Then do it,” you challenged, shifting out from under him and standing, stripping out of the rest of your clothing hastily as you made your way towards the window. You threw open the curtains, the city lights illuminating the room and accentuating your silhouette in a most flattering way.

You leaned forward, bracing your arms against the glass. Medic’s breath quickened as he looked over the curve of your back, gaze trailing ever lower. You were clearly presenting yourself just for him. The bed creaked softly as he stood up, and you watched in the faint reflection of the glass as he approached you.

His hands started at your shoulders, trailing down your body and over your sides until they rested on your hips, rubbing small circles over the tender flesh. He stopped touching you for a moment and you heard the soft sound of a zipper descending before feeling his strong grip on your waist. The only warning you got was a low groan before he entered from behind.

A flustered gasp escaped you due to the suddenness of it all. Thankfully, you were more than aroused enough to accommodate him. He thrust into you hard, pressing you against the window, and you shuddered at the feeling of the cold surface against your chest. You stared ahead at the cityscape, seeing Medic’s reflection more clearly in the glass now, watching his expression contort in pleasure.

“Gott ja, you feel so good, meine liebe.” Medic’s nails raked down your sides in one swift motion, making you cry out. He was being quite rough. You guessed he had been needing this just as much as you had, based on how desperate he was acting.

Medic usually started out slow, sometimes to let you adjust, but most often to tease you. He loved to hear you beg for him to go faster and harder. He loved to slow down the moment you were about to come, just to hear you whine. Most of all, he loved the sense of power that came with his ability to exercise such restraint, to prolong not only your pleasure but also his own.

There was none of that patience here. Medic’s movements were fervent and merciless. He really had missed you, missed the feeling of your flushed, hot skin beneath his hands and your needy moans as he rutted into you like an animal. The idea that he had witnesses, passersby who may glance up and see that he was the one making you feel this good, only made him more determined.

“I never would have taken you for the type to be so shameless, fraulein,” Medic said, bracing himself against the glass with one hand and leaning down to speak right next to your ear. “Then again, you’ll probably never have to face these people, these strangers wandering within a bustling city. I wonder if you would be so bold in front of people you’re more familiar with.”

“What do you mean?” You asked with a sharp exhale, your breath clouding on the glass in front of you. It blurred Medic’s reflection, and you weren’t able to read his expression.

“Tell me liebchen, how would you react to me taking you like this in front of the rest of my team?” He spoke with sinister glee, and it sent shivers through your entire body as you imagined what he was suggesting. “It would let them know you’re all mine. I would show them all that I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.”

Medic quickened his pace, and you felt his arm wrap around your waist and travel downward. Before you could say a word, he began rubbing firm circles around your clit. Just like that, he stole away any coherent response you may have had.

“Medic! Oh fuck, I’m going to come if you keep that up.” You gasped the few intelligible words you could get out between moans. Medic watched you tremble against the window, delighted with the reactions he had managed to draw from you.

“Then go on, meine liebe. Let everyone see you writhing in pleasure, just for me.”

That last bit of coaxing was all you needed. You buckled under his touch, tumbling into a powerful climax. Medic let out a strangled moan behind you as he also gave in, thrusting unevenly a few more times before he finished along with you.

The adrenaline that came with the rush of your orgasm was the first thing to ebb away, and with it went your remaining strength. Your legs shook beneath you, threatening to finally give out. Just as you began to slump against the window and to the floor, Medic caught you, gathering up your trembling body in his arms. You were carried to the bed and placed down gently before Medic collapsed on top of the sheets beside you, his own strength having been drained as well.

You felt as if you could practically sink into the soft mattress, curled up and satisfied in this state of post orgasmic euphoria. With a sigh, you gathered your strength enough to roll over to where Medic was laying, breathing heavily. You placed a hand on his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall even out into a calmer pace. He recovered quicker than you. Your legs were still shaky, and you doubted you would be able to stand if you tried. That said, the idea of a bath sounded quite nice as well. Perhaps you could convince Medic to carry you again.

“Once we catch our breath, we should make use of that fancy bathtub to clean up a little,” you said, smiling as you thought about the soothing jets massaging your aching muscles as you relaxed in the warm, soapy water.

“Uhm, that might not be possible,” Medic said, eyes darting towards the bathroom nervously. You stared at him, confused and awaiting an explanation. When you were met with a few moments of stammering, realization hit you and you heaved an exasperated sigh.

“You used the jacuzzi tub to store exotic animal parts, didn’t you?”

Medic looked sheepish, yet simultaneously proud of his ingenuity. “They must be kept cold! You would be shocked at how fast organs can spoil if stored at the wrong temperature. I had been using the mini fridge, but it wasn't quite big enough for a whale liver.”

“A whale liver -” you stammered before stopping yourself, deciding not to let the absurdity of the situation interrupt your bliss. Hell, you weren’t even going to dare to ask what was being kept in the mini fridge. At least now you knew why the ice machine had been running when you first woke up. “You know what?” you said, throwing your hands up in defeat. “I’m just going to enjoy the afterglow, and try to ignore the inevitable fact that I’m going to have to help you haul that thing into our luggage tomorrow morning.”

Medic chuckled softly, pulling you into his embrace and agreeing that would be for the best. You settled into his arms with a content sigh, eyes drifting shut as you surrendered to the draw of sleep, not even worrying about how you and Medic were going to smuggle his little organ collection past the hotel checkout come sunrise.

#tf2 x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #merc x reader #minors dni #smut #tf2 smut #medic x reader #medic tf2 #team fortress 2 #medic team fortress 2 #tf2 medic #team fortress medic #team fortress two #tf2 #tf2 fanfiction #cross posted on ao3

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mania-sama · 6 months ago

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if you need me, dear, i'm the same as i was

Homesick - Noah Kahan

➼ 02 - motherfuckers here still don't know they caught the boston bombers ❧ Information (Summary, Tags, Chapters) ❧ Previous Chapter ❧ Next Chapter ❧ Word Count: 2,593 ❧ Cross-posted from Archive of Our Own

[1 Missed Call at 3:43 PM] [1 Missed Call at 3:44 PM] [Issei] Is Oikawa okay [Issei] Are you okay [1 Missed Call at 3:47 PM] [Issei] Sorry youre probably busy. Call or text when you get the chance

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THE KING RETURNS!!! @walterwhitevans The Olympic gold volleyball match??? I’m horrified and confused what is going on??? 0 Resposts 0 Quotes 5 Likes 0 Bookmarks

madison @maplefalling4 Pretty sure Tooru Oikawa, the Argentina player who collapsed, had a heart attack. Nobody knows why or how because hes a healthy athlete. The physical trainer from Team Japan performed CPR on him. Don’t know what was going on with him after though. It looked like shock but I can’t be sure. 0 Reposts 0 Quotes 2 Likes 0 Bookmarks THE KING RETURNS!!! @walterwhitevans Ohh okay. I was just hate watching because the US got knocked out so early, I didn’t expect anything like this to happen? I hope they are both okay :( 0 Reposts 0 Quotes 1 Like 0 Bookmarks

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[Takahiro] issei and i saw everything live. are you okay?? we’re worried [1 Missed Call at 3:45 PM] [Takahiro] answer the phone [1 Missed Call at 3:49 PM] [1 Missed Call at 3:50 PM] [Takahiro] please hajime [1 Missed Call at 3:52 PM]

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[Video Thumbnail Description: A large volleyball court with male players kneeling on either side of the net. One man, an athletic trainer, is leaning over another man, a player, with his hands on the player’s chest.]

[Video Description: Six minutes and twelve seconds. Video starts. Two teams of men, separated by a net, play volleyball in a large arena. Two men commentate the game in English. The ball goes back and forth over the net. Eventually, one player jumps up for the set but spikes the ball instead. At the same time, an athletic trainer on the other side of the net runs onto the court. The commentators wildly exclaim. The trainer grabs the player and screams in Japanese. The player collapses into the trainer’s chest. They both go to the ground, where the trainer starts to perform chest compressions. Both teams kneel. The men and women on the sidelines move hurriedly. The trainer performs mouth-to-mouth, then chest compressions again. The commentators are quiet and confused. Paramedics arrive with equipment. The trainer performs mouth-to-mouth again. The trainer and the paramedics load the player on the stretcher. The trainer is approached and surrounded by the player’s team. The trainer leaves the team and heads to his own team. He looks at an object in his hand before putting it in his pocket. He joins the team. His knees buckle and hit the ground. His team surrounds him, shielding him from the view of the cameras at every angle. They guide the trainer out of the arena. The commentators speak confusedly. Video ends.]

Star volleyball athlete Toru Oikawa from Team Argentina suddenly collapses from heart attack, Team Japan athletic trainer performs CPR | NBC Sports NBC Sports Subscribe 10.6M views 17 Hours Ago #ToruOikawa #NBCSports #TeamArgentina #TeamJapan …More

4,681 Comments Add a comment…

@brentysolosonfn • 15h ago that shit was CRAZY. i can’t get over the fact that the JAPAN trainer saw it first and not anyone from the argentina staff. like don’t heart attack symptoms start showing weeks in advance? i know somebody from argentina is getting fired bruh 28.3K likes Reply 209 replies

@1brniyu • 13h ago Wow… A heart attack can really happen to anyone. I pray Oikawa has a swift recovery and can return to playing. He is a truly talented man. 38K likes Reply 300 replies

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[Takeru]¹ i know u haven’t talked in a really long time, but thank u for helping my uncle. idk what id do if he died [Takeru] thank you.

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farminginsparta reblogged blorbo-central blorbo-central okay i swear this isn’t a racism thing, but you know how the japan trainer had that freak out after doing cpr on oikawa? well, is it possible they knew each other before all this? like maybe they are friends or smth. he certainly didn’t react like that when his own team’s player fell. farminginsparta You can’t just assume all Japanese people know each other blorbo-central YOURE GONNA TELL ME I’M CRAZY??? i keep rewatching it and i’m getting more and more certain that they are friends or were friends or something more. that trainer had eyes on him from the MINUTE they stepped out onto court. and he was on the court before anyone else was to save him. AND he had that meltdown (when he should be perfectly fine to do cpr like that). i swear on my life and future babies that i’m right!!! farminginsparta This is pretty disrespectful to the people in the situation to speculate like that. He’s just had a heart attack and you’re concerned about his relationship with another man? And the athletic trainer may have just experienced his first life-or-death scenario. Typical Tumblr user behavior

#Have some decency #This is unbelievable but expected from the hellsite 74 notes

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[1 Missed Call at 6:00 PM] [1 New Voice Mail]

[Audio Description: Forty-seven seconds. A female voice politely asks for an interview. She leaves her contact details.]

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r/Olympics

u/LilacSweatshirts The Argentina Player and the Japan Athletic Trainer DO know each other (or at least did at one point) 9 Awards I’ve been seeing all the ruckus online about what happened during the Olympic volleyball gold matchup and got curious. I didn’t know anything about these people until now (I don’t really care about volleyball in general. I only ever turn on the Olympics for background noise, and I certainly didn’t see this incident occur live.) But because I apparently have little else to do with my time, I went on a deep dive.

I started with the Argentina player Oikawa Tooru first because I thought I might be able to find something about his past medical history that would cause a “sudden” heart attack like this. According to this interview from 2013, he states that he had a complex knee injury and corrective surgery during high school. He doesn’t feel any pain anymore in it unless he goes out of his way to “provoke it”. He also says that he wears eye contacts. I don’t know how bad his eyesight is, but from the photos I’ve found where he is wearing glasses, the lenses don’t seem to be insanely thick or anything. He’s been pretty open about his struggles and with mental health in recent years (this article is quite good. He reposts a lot of mental health awareness stuff on his socials too.) But there’s nothing about any heart problems, asthma, or even a history of drug or chemical abuse that could lead up to this problem. The heart attack seems to have come out of nowhere.

Because he talked about high school, I wanted to know where he went. I thought he was from Argentina and was just first or second generation, or had moved here when he was younger, like me (born in Argentina) to England, so I was curious to see if I would recognize the name of his school. Hey, maybe we even went to the same primary school! I didn’t know. Well, turns out he emigrated from Japan in 2013 and became naturalized as an Argentinian citizen in 2016 (he posted about it on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook). Whatever posts he had from his life in Japan, he must have since deleted. Though his accounts are a few years older, his posts start pretty much the day he arrives in Argentina. He does have posts from 2016 with Hinata Shouyou, a player on Team Japan, since they apparently played beach volleyball together for a while in Brazil. He still likes some of Hinata’s tweets and posted a Tiktok with him a few days before the gold matchup, so I assume they are still friends. Unfortunately, Hinata doesn’t start posting on any socials until he meets Oikawa in Brazil (his first tweet literally says Oikawa made the account for him, and his Instagram post is the sun setting on the beach with Oikawa tagged) so I hit a dead end there.

Considering he’s an immigrant, I figured that if he was picked up by not only a pro team in Argentina but also the national team , he must’ve had some insane high school stats. That means lots of information should be floating around somewhere online. I found several articles on Japanese volleyball sites (never knew how popular the sport is over there until now) that talk about Oikawa’s feats. That’s how I found out he went to a high school called Aoba Johsai (also referred to as Seijoh). Their colours are teal and white, so it’s kind of iconic that he came to Argentina. I found this magazine² where he had a featured interview during his last year of high school. I translated all of it through Google, so I don’t know if everything I got was absolutely correct, but from what I gathered he really was crazy good. I also found a few uploaded volleyball matches. I won’t link them, but if you want to watch them, just go to Youtube and search “Aoba Johsai/Seijoh 2010-2013 Volleyball Tournament Matches”.

Since I got his high school and those articles, I was also able to get the names on his team’s roster. The only name that’s important to this topic though is Iwaizumi Hajime.

As some of you may already know (though most don’t), Iwaizumi Hajime is the athletic trainer for Team Japan who saved Oikawa Tooru’s life. From what I’ve been able to find, they did play together for every year of high school.

Then I got curious about Iwaizumi himself. He graduated at the same time as Oikawa, but he didn’t go to Argentina or anything. He actually went to Tohoku University as an undergrad, then went to grad school at the University of California in the States and interned under Utsui Takashi.³ This was actually pretty easy to track because he has two published dissertations regarding sports medicine. I skimmed the second one (because it’s in English) about how mental health can affect the physical health of athletes. It’s pretty good, honestly, especially for it being in his (presumably) second language. He’s a brilliant guy. After graduating and completing his internship, he worked as the primary athletic trainer for the pro volleyball team Tokyo Great Bears, then became the athletic trainer for Team Japan.

I haven’t been able to find them interacting with each other on social media at all. They both follow some of the same people, like the previously mentioned Hinata and Jose Blanco (volleyball coach for Team Argentina), but I think that’s simply by coincidence since they don’t follow each other. Curiously, Iwaizumi follows a good amount of people from his high school team still, but not Oikawa. He seems to be closer with the other third-year players based on his likes, responses, and reposts. But, Iwaizumi doesn’t post all that much on social media in general. His last post was on Instagram with a picture with Team Japan from a couple months back. He’s been tagged in a few photos and tweets from the players on various sites, and was in a Team Japan TikTok, but that’s pretty much it. Again, he has stuff with two of his high school teammates in his same year, but Oikawa is never talked about nor featured.

To tie this all back with the Olympics last night: It seems to me that many of those on Team Japan know Oikawa a little better than any of the other teams in the Olympics simply by chance; most of them played against him in high school. I seriously doubt Iwaizumi and Oikawa kept in contact since high school or were ever even closer than teammates/classmates. They probably don't even like each other (based on the social media situation.) But Iwaizumi is the only one who actually played with him in his formative years, so I guess that’s worth something. I imagine that saving someone you once knew as a teenager is a very harsh and traumatizing ordeal, no matter how long it’s been since you last saw them. Man, if I had to save one of my old classmates like that… Even the ones I didn’t like, I don’t know if I’d be able to sleep for a couple nights.

TL;DR: They played high school volleyball together, and I need a more social hobby.

Edit: Thanks so much for the gold! I saw that Kageyama Tobio (player for Team Japan) released a statement on his socials stating that he played with Oikawa in middle school. It’s been cool to see all the Japanese players wishing him well. Nothing from Iwaizumi, though. 409K upvotes 38.4k replies

u/WaxpoeticTome Batshit crazy behavior, but also very impressive. I expected nothing less from the Internet 36K upvotes 7.2K replies u/Jumbo_JC_L 1 Award They played together in middle school, too. https://www.kitagawadaiichi.org/championships/2008/volleyball/ 112K upvotes 10.1k replies

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[Keiji] Hey, if you ever want to talk, we can meet up or you can give me a call. No pressure if you don’t want to. Just want you to know that I’m here for you.

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teamargentina

[Image Description: A male volleyball player from Team Argentina lunging forward on a court. His face is tilted upward to the volleyball in the air. One arm is extended and his other is caught moving backward. He is ready to serve the ball. The edges of the image are faded to white.]

567,882 likes teamargentina Tooru Oikawa is a beloved player on our Men’s National Volleyball Team. After achieving the winning point in the final set and bringing home the gold medal for Team Argentina, he collapsed from a coronary heart spasm. He is recovering in the amazing care of the Olympic Village hospital staff. May we all congratulate him on winning gold and wish him a swift recovery. #TokyoOlympics View all 743 comments bryanverden0907 May God Save Him 🙏🏻🛐

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he’s recovering fine. please don’t make the trip up here. I’ll bring your son home. we will see you soon, I promise.

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[Video Description: Twenty-one seconds. Video starts. The camera is focused on a team of men in blue and white as they knock the volleyball over the net. It cuts to the team before the camera switches to the other side. They knock the volleyball over, and it cuts to the same team again. Two English announcers speak loudly over the muted audio of the game. The English announcers yell loudly in excitement at a play while the opposing team’s athletic trainer runs onto the court. It cuts to a close-up of the athletic trainer holding a player’s shoulders. It cuts again. The video darkens and blurs slightly. The audio silences and the sound of monitored heartbeats takes over loudly. The trainer presses down repeatedly on the player’s chest in slow motion. It cuts intermittently as he performs mouth-to-mouth. The heartbeat ends. The remaining sound is a heart monitor flatline. Video ends.]

mrblesnimop HE��LL BE OKAY GUYS TRUST (they are both so freaking attractive oh my god) #volleyball #vball #tokyolympics #2020olympics #oikawatooru #edit #olympicsedit #fyp Original Sound

3,674 comments

coco they are both SO attractive oh my god- 4h Reply 4.8k likes — View 800 replies

sasukesleftfoot They way I'd give myself a heart attack so that man would give me mouth to mouth ohhhh 1h Reply 3.9k likes — View 516 replies

¹ Originally, this was supposed to be Oikawa’s older sister. However, she is unnamed, and therefor does not get to be in this LMAO.

² In this magazine, u/LilacSweatshirts found out that Oikawa’s favorite food was milkbread, and his personal motto was: “If you’re gonna hit it, hit it ‘til it breaks.” They thought this was funny.

³ I don’t actually read the manga, so when I was skimming through the various Haikyuu Wikis, I interpreted his time in America during his 2nd year of higher education to mean he was touring the campus and doing interviews with his prospective internship boss rather than him actually attending the university itself. Thus, we have this fic with Iwaizumi attending for grad school rather than a regular undergrad program. This makes more sense to me with the way the American education system works.

Author's Note: i went back to the first chapter and changed how long it's been since oikawa and iwaizumi last spoke. it's eight years, not nine, because they graduated in 2013 and not 2012. i'm a fucking idiot.

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minkkumaz · 1 year ago

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SOMEONE OLDER

la poésie romantique. words spoken passionately, yet holding no sincere meaning when spoken by all your past loves. but he held the key to your heart that no man ever could, establishing the belief that you didn't need anyone other than him; not even your own father. because myungho could treat you right, couldn't he?

PAIRING ji myungho x fem!reader WC 1.7k TAGS angst. suggestive themes. toxic college professor myungho. slight manipulation. reader has daddy issues. OMI NOTE this is.. extremely different from anything i've written but i saw an edit of myungho to 'someone older' by isabel larosa and it genuinely changed my life. idk how im gonna get away with this but i do not get paid to gaf END OF STORY!

father never taught you to stray away from boys that wouldn't treat you right, and nobody ever taught boys to hold a heart with care; instead breaking it recklessly. the constant rotation between showing love and begging for forgiveness stripped energy from your body like a piece of clothing. it might as well have been, because that would be easier, right?

maybe it was the way you looked. it was only your left shoulder on full display, as your slightly large tee - shirt clinged onto you. you had only assumed the boy was being nice by placing a calloused hand on your soft skin, pulling up the material slightly before smiling at you. the pull of his lips were sweet, masking something sinister underneath. such a small gesture made you so naive, it was your own fault getting involved with him. those memories became a puddle of mush, left in the past.

but it wasn’t just boys of his stature, it was boys in general. ill thoughts swarmed your head rapidly. a sense of self doubt, regret, vengeance. it left you in a forever state of numbness, zoning out into a false reality you wish you could call your own. a reality with a man that would treat you right.

the sound of gears turning in the clock on the wall was where your focus lay, emerging yourself in the tick tock, tick tock. each of your senses slowly depleted from your body, leaving you with the round device against the off - white wall.

a hand slightly slamming against the desk in front of you cut into your mind like a knife.

“zoning out again, aren’t we, miss y/n?” professor ji spoke out, eyes like daggers, “see me after class.”

you nodded sheepishly, feeling the weight of the moment escape from your mouth in a breathy exhale as he went back to instruct the class.

in an attempt to ignore the stares of your peers burning into your skull, you slid down in your seat. maybe they were looks of pity, or quite possibly hints of jealousy. yet time couldn’t pass any quicker, as you returned to the never - ending tick of the clock.

meeting a teacher after the bell rang was never on your roster, let alone with your stupidly attractive english professor. it wasn’t a secret how desirable he was. you could only hear seductive comments made about the way he left his shirt slightly unbuttoned, leather jacket draped around the back of his chair and not his shoulders.

students filed out in a fast - paced manner, painting the room to seem much bigger without as many people crowding the seats. your professor followed quietly behind the crowd, closing the door as soon as everyone had been gone. this left the two of you alone, as well as the familiar clock ticking in the background.

your heart became heavy in your chest, watching his tall figure approach you like a predator stalking it’s prey.

“y/n.” professor ji says your name sternly, “care to tell me how boring my lessons are that you haven’t been paying attention?”

“professor– it’s not like that, i promise.” you stuttered out in an attempt to defend yourself, “i’ve had a lot on my mind recently and it’s getting the better of me.”

“why don’t you contact the campus counselor? i’m sure mr. yoonsung would love to assist you in whatever problem you have in that head of yours.” he suggests.

“i don’t think i can do that sir. things are a lot more complicated than they might seem. but i swear, i’ll try to keep myself in check.”

“you don’t think you can do that?” he laughs almost mockingly, picking up a pencil on your desk to spin between his bony fingers, “i might need a better reason than that.”

“this is so embarrassing..” you sigh in defeat, “it’s about my love life, professor ji. i don’t mean to be rude, but none of that is quite relevant to you, let alone any teacher on campus. so while i respect your request for me to seek outside advice, that won’t be happening.��

“so i’m just any teacher to you? miss y/n, i’m unsure that you understand who i am to you.”

“what is that supposed to mean?”

“you chose to major in english when you enrolled here. so i’d assume you would put effort not only into this class, but the person teaching it to you.” he states with an almost threatening tone, making your stomach queasy.

a cat had gotten your tongue, leaving you with nothing to say in a situation where you felt you had to defend yourself. this made his lips perk up into a smile, taking the pencil he was holding to tilt your chin up slightly by the eraser end.

“i’ve only ever wanted to help you, y/n. almost like it’s my job.” he tells you, “you excel in every single assignment i give you, up until recently. dont let a beautiful mind like yours be so easily manipulated by a college frat boy.”

“this isn’t my fault, you make it seem much easier than it sounds.” your bottom lip quivers slightly at the position he has you in, yet also because he’s correct in his assumption.

“when you get an idea in your head, you find it in everything. do you remember who said that quote?”

“victor hugo. we’re learning about works in other languages to broaden our knowledge, so of course i remember.”

“your idea of love is tainted, hence why you let yourself get hurt. am i wrong?” he reads you like a book.

you nod at him, feeling your throat become dry. each of your senses were heightened, the cold rubber eraser under your chin being replaced by the tip of his finger. the state of your mind was vulnerable, crowded only by the idea of him and his frigid gaze.

a shiver ran down your spine as if it was being chased, his face creeping closer to yours until it was inches apart.

“do you know what you want in a relationship?” he spoke, breath barely grazing against your lips because of the remaining distance. when you didn’t speak, his face contorted into an expression just a little bit colder, “you respond to authority when spoken to. don’t jeopardize your status in my class because you can’t answer a simple question. remember that i just want to help you.”

“i want someone to care for me as much as i care for them.” you finally let out with a sob, guilt washing over you for not giving a clearer response.

“that was easy, wasn’t it? my poor y/n, not being treated properly because nobody quite knows how to.” he chuckles lowly, wiping a singular tear that rolled down your cheeks, “now that you know what you want, what do you need?”

“i– i don’t know, professor ji.” you pout.

“you already said it out loud. use your words to tell me.” his hand traveled around to the back of your head, gripping at your hair to move your head more upwards.

“i think i need someone older.” your words sounded distressed, yet they were all he needed to hear.

“there you go.” he lets go of your hair, a switch in demeanor as he smiles at you, “come here.”

walking back to his desk, he leaves you in a pile of muck and confusion at your own. for someone you can hardly read, something about him makes you want to learn.

you scoot your chair back, the sound of it scraping against the hard floors making you wince slightly. with each step approaching him, your heartbeat quickened. professor ji had always been an enigmatic figure on campus. young, passionate in his interests, and everything you were starting to think you needed in someone.

maybe you wanted him to be passionate in you.

“is this wrong?” you ask quietly, now face to face with him.

“there’s a flaw in your question, especially since you already know the answer, miss y/n.” he coos, reaching to move a loose strand of hair away from your face, “father wouldn’t tell you right from wrong. such a terrible man, isn’t he? so let me tell you what you deserve to hear.”

“he’s not terrible, he just loves me differently.” you weren’t sure why you felt the need to defend your dad, but words came out before you could think.

“don’t get it twisted; those who love you warn you about the consequences others actions could have on a person. trust that i could protect you more than any man could.” he said with envy underlying his tone.

“yes, sir.” you shake your head yes, tears starting to burn your eyes with what you couldn’t determine if it was happiness or culpability.

“call me myungho.” he cupped your cheeks with his calloused hands, rough against your soft skin, “now let me take care of you, then you could take the weight off my shoulders.”

myungho brought your face closer to his, almost immediately closing the gap that separated the boundaries between professor and student. this barrier was destroyed in the span of seconds, his lips locking perfectly with yours. they were soft, barely chapped, and meant for you.

it was a rhythmic harmony that flowed perfectly like words on a page, pulling you deeper and deeper until you couldn’t pull away; too infatuated to stop and so unaware you couldn’t bother to give a shit at the thought of someone walking in.

he had you right where he wanted you, the objective that nobody other than him could hold your heart careful enough not to split it in half.

the kiss escalated, making your lips puffy and red as they were attacked by his. one of myungho’s hands wrapped around your waist to pull you close. your arms were tucked into your chest, unsure where to put them.

once he finally pulled away from you, a string of saliva kept both of you attached, breaking away quickly. his eyes were dark, yet not in a way that would seem intimidating. a look you’ve never seen before.

you were ready to find out.

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