#the final total :''^D thank you so much)
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schmweed · 1 year ago
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synoicus · 1 year ago
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If I'm stuck struggling here, at the bottom of my dreams, I'd rather consume this night for all I'm worth
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itsmarsss · 10 months ago
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cool. [Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader] (Diary of a Wimpy Kid)
(from the vault)
You start working as a babysitter for the Heffleys, but a certain someone seems to be bugging his parents to go out more often. Why?
Words: 6,164
Warnings: like one slight sexual/porn innuendo
[. . .]
"What do you mean someone to watch me?” Greg yelled, exhasperated.
Rodrick laughed out loud at the whole situation. “Wait is little Greg here getting a babysitter?”
“Yes, and she starts tomorrow night," their mom replied, matter-of-factly.
“Mom, I’m in seventh grade! I don’t need a babysitter!”
“We’d believe it if the last time we left the two of you alone you hadn’t directly disobeyed the only thing we told you not to do and thrown a party while we were gone," their dad explained.
“Wait. Mom. So I don’t have to watch him? Like ever again?”
“No but you should be ashamed of the reason why-”
“Hell yeah!”
“Rodrick-” He was already up the stairs on the way to his room. She sighed. 
“Mom you can’t do this to me. Do you know how bad it'll be if the guys in my grade find out you got me a babysitter?”
“They’re not gonna find out, sweetie.” She patted his head.
“And it’s not negotiable.”
“What your dad said.”
"Dad!”
“I’m sorry, kid! But if it makes you feel better, since Rodrick will be here and we’re getting a babysitter because we can’t leave the two of you alone, she’s teeechnically his babysitter too, right?”
“It doesn’t make me feel better.”
“I tried," he shrugged.
“Where are you two even going tomorrow?”
“We’re having dinner! " Susan exclaimed, excited to talk about it. "Alone, finally, because-”
“Wait couldn't she technically be Manny’s babysitter then?”
“Thank you for caring so much about what I had to say, son.” She sighed once again. “She’s not Manny’s babysitter because Manny’s gonna stay with your grandma.”
Greg huffed and made a point to be extremely loud when stumping upstairs to his room, immediately getting cornered by Rodrick. 
“So… a babysitter, huh? And I thought your seventh grade couldn’t get any worse.”
“D´you think it’ll be that bad?”
“Dude they probably got you an old lady who smells like a museum whos gonna make you eat soup at like five PM and sleep at seven.”
Greg widened his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows, worried at the thought of what his brother was making him imagine. “You think?”
“Yup. And I’m not even talking about the total humiliation it's gonna be if someone your age finds out.”
“Crap.”
“Good luck with that.” Rodrick was obviously enjoying the mere thought of the torture that was going to follow.
. . .
“A babysitter?” Rowley asked, rather loudly. Greg quickly put his hand over his best friend's mouth. 
“Dude! Can you be quiet?”
“Hmmph!” Rowley tried to protest.
Greg released his hand from over his mouth. “Sorry.”
“Why do I need to be quiet?”
“Because I don’t want anybody to know!”
“Why?”
“Because it’s embarrassing, Rowley!”
Rowley just shrugged. “I wouldn’t be embarrassed. A babysitter sounds fun! Maybe she’ll read you bedtime stories! And play board games with you!”
Greg just looked at him incredulously. “Just don’t say anything about this to anyone., okay?"
Rowley suddenly started to look really nervous. “You know I can’t lie…”
“It’s not lying! It’s just not mentioning it! No one’s gonna ask about it.”
“Okay. Fine.” He didn't seem that sure about it, but Greg knew he'd try his best.
. . .
You took in a sharp breath before knocking on the front door. It took no time for it to be sprung open, and you were greeted by a smiling Mrs. Heffley. You retributed the smile. 
“Hi Mrs. Heffley!”
“Hey, sweetie! How are you?” She asked as she ushered you into the house, startling you when she closed the door behind you as you walked in. 
“I’m alright! How about you guys? Your dress looks so pretty!”
“Oh my God, thank you! You know it’s been ages since I’ve worn a pretty dress to go out, you can’t trust three kids with a pretty dress, they're always gonna ruin it.”
“Oh God that must be hell,” you laughed along with her. “Where are you guys headed tonight?”
“Looking forward to having dinner in peace,” she laughed again. “Manny!” she yelled suddenly, startling you yet again.
A little boy walked in in his diapers, holding his pants up with both hands. 
“Manny can you just please put on your pants?” Mr. Heffley followed the kid around, frustratedly asking him for what you assumed must have been at leat a fourth time to put his pants on, judging by the tone in his voice and the sigh that accompanied it.
“No!”
“Manny!” Ms. Heffley yelled yet again. The kid did what he was supposed to.
“Um I didn’t- is Manny gonna be staying with me tonight?”
“No! No,” she laughed. “Don’t worry, we’re taking him to my mother’s house.”
“Oh, right. Okay.” You tried to let out how relieved you were. Little kids were a whole other level of difficult, specially at Manny's age.
“Darling are you ready?” Susan asked her husband.
“Yeah! Yeah.”
“Greg!” she yelled again.
“What?” The boy yelled back from his room upstairs. 
“Y/n’s here! Come say hi!”
“Who’s y/n?”
“Your babysitter!”
He came downstairs. Very slowly. “Mom I already-” He stopped.  “You’re not an old lady!"
“Gregory! We don't say that to people! What is that about?"
“I’m sorry! I meant- Rodrick told me my babysitter was gonna be an old lady who smelled like a museum."
"Of course he did," Mr. Heffley said, under his breath.
You pretended to smell yourself. “I think I might smell more like an art gallery maybe,” you joked.
“I’m so sorry about this."
“It’s fine, Mrs. Heffley! Don’t worry about it. Now you two go have some fun, alright? Come on."
“Yeah! Okay. Right. There’s money on the table, you can order whatever you want for dinner the kids will eat whatever. Just grab the money before Rodrick comes downstairs or he's gonna pocket it. If you need anything you can call, okay? Really, anything.”
“Don’t worry about it! I promise I’ll call if anything happens! But I think we’re just gonna stay and eat some food and watch some movies, right Greg?”
“Uh, yeah. I guess.”
“Please be nice, Greg. Oh and if Rodrick bothers you tell him I said he’ll be grounded if I hear he's not letting you work alright?"
“Sure thing! Thank you. Now go!” You joked, pretending to send them off.
. . .
You and Greg had both sat down on the couch in the living room.
“So. You’re not an old lady.”
“Nope.”
“Are you in high school?”
“Yes I am.”
“What grade are you in?"
“I’m a senior!”
“Oh. Rodrick’s a senior too.”
“Cool! I don’t think I’ve seen him around though.”
“Lucky.”
“Why’s that?”
“He makes my life hell!”
“Well don’t you make his life hell at least a tiny little bit?”
“Maybe a little bit.”
“That’s just your job.”
“Trust me no girls like him.”
“Whatever, Heffley. So what do you wanna do?”
“Can we play video games?”
“Depends on what you have.”
“Apocalypse of The Damned?”
“I have never heard of that in my entire life.”
“You’re gonna like it I swear!”
“Alright. But you have to bring me the money your mom left on the table, I’m gonna order us some pizza.”
“Deal!” He ran out to the kitchen, getting back with the money in no time.
. . .
“Hey I was thinking. Can my friend sleep over?” Greg asked, obviously having been preparing himself to do so for the past few minutes, while furiously hitting buttons on his controller as you scrolled through your phone, having gotten tired of playing at that point. 
“Um. Is your friend gonna give me any trouble?”
“No! You can- you can trust us.”
“Is he annoying?”
He seemed to take his time to think of an answer. “A little. But he’s pretty cool.”
“Fine, I’ll ask your mom.”
You clicked on Mrs. Heffley’s contact name. 
hi mrs heffley
how's the date going? im sorry to interrupt
You didn't even have the time to finish writing the next text before she was calling you. You picked it up.
“Is everything okay?” Susan asked, clearly worried.
“Oh, yes. Everything���s fine, you don't have to worry! I’m so sorry to interrupt your date, Greg wanted a friend to stay over and I just wanted to see if that’s okay with you.”
“Is it Rowley?”
“Sorry?”
“The friend, is it Rowley?”
“Is it Rowley?” You asked Greg, leaning away from the phone, to which he just nodded his head yes. “Yeah, Rowley.”
“Okay, of course he can! And don’t worry, I’ll pay you extra for it.”
“Oh, that’s really nice, thank you. Now you should go back to your date, I'm so sorry to bother.”
“No worries! Are you sure everything’s fine?”
“Yes! We ordered pizza and we’re playing video games right now. Everything under control.”
“And Rodrick?”
“Uh, I haven’t really seen him honestly. He definitely hasn’t left his room though.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“Bye!” You hung up.
“So?”
“Yeah, call your friend. Ask him if he has any board games we can play!”
Greg did as you said, and, in about half an hour, a little boy with a yellow shirt with a dog on it stood at the door.
“Are you Greg’s babysitter?’
“Uh yeah, I am.”
“Cool!" He looked at Greg behind you. "You told me she was old!”
“Rowley!”
“What? You did!”
You laughed at the interaction and let them do their thing, only asking them to stay by the living room so you could keep an eye on them. You sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone again as you knew the pizza should be about to get there.
The doorbell rang in no time. You stood up to pay for it, grabbing the large-size pizza and tipping the delivery guy, who didn’t look very friendly at all. You brought it in. “Hey Greg can you go call your brother?”
“Yeah!”
He ran up the stairs, and you set the box down on the dining table, Rowley sitting down. Greg came back.
“He told me to bring it to him.”
“Why?"
"He just doesn't wanna come downstairs."
"You don't have to do it.”
“What? He’s gonna beat me up for it!”
“Not with me here. I got you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Chill out.”
. . .
“Hey you little asshole? I told you to bring my pizza!” A voice exclaimed from the second floor, and Greg muffled a quiet ‘shit’.
“Hey don’t say that!” You scolded Greg for swearing as a reflex.
“Hey? Are you not listening?” Rodrick was clearly close to the kitchen now. He walked through the door. “I said get me so-” he stopped dead on his tracks when he saw you.
“Who’s this?” He asked the boys.
“That’s Y/N,” Rowley said, through gulps.
"And I'm right here you know? You could just ask me who I am."
“Well who are you? And what are you doing… here?” He leaned over the wall, in a poor attempt to look cool. You had to fight yourself tas not to laugh uncontrollably at the sight.
“Well I seem to be your babysitter for the night.”
“What?”
“Did you also expect an old lady? You know, that's a really common and really hurtful babysitter stereotype, you really should think about the things you say now.”
“Wha- huh- yeah- I’ll just-” He let out a weird laugh, and walked up to the table, grabbing himself a slice of pizza and stuffing it into his mouth, seemingly to shut himself up.
“Well we’re gonna watch a movie after we’re done eating. You wanna join?”
“Oh he’s not gonna-” Greg started talking, but Rodrick quickly interrupted him, almost choking on his food as he did so.
“Yeah! Yeah! What are we uh- what are we watching?”
“Zathura.”
“What the fuck is Zathura?”
“Don’t swear in front of them!”
“Sorry.”
Greg looked at Rowley like Rodrick had just gone insane. Did he just apologize?
You laughed. “I’m kidding. You guys don’t mind, do you?”
They both slowly nodded their head no. 
“Cool. As long as you don’t repeat it in front of your parents, alright? Don’t wanna get me in trouble.”
“We’re not five!"
“Well you do look like it,” Rodrick commented, and Greg stuck his tongue out at him.
. . .
“This movie doesn’t make any sense,” Rodrick commented, pointing at the screen.
“It’s not supposed to! It’s a kids movie about a magical board game,” you pointed out.
“Let me guess, did Rowley pick this one?”
“For your information, I did. You got a problem?”
“No.”
Rowley had, in fact, picked this one.
Greg and Rowley shared a look again. This was getting bizzarre.
The movie was over in about half an hour, and it was time for you to put Greg to sleep.
“But it’s so early!” The boy complained, and you laughed.
“I know, but you don’t have to sleep now, you just gotta go to bed! I can’t, like, force you to sleep.”
He let out an annoyed groan before agreeing and pulling Rowley with him by the wrist. “Fine.”
“I’ll be upstairs in a few!” You yelled out, and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes from dinner. It wasn’t really something Mrs. Heffley had explicitly asked you to do, but you had those extra minutes and wanted to get on her good side. 
What you didn’t expect was to come in to find Rodrick still standing there, startling himself when you walked in.
“Uh hey!” His voice was high-pitched, clearly not expecting to see you there so soon.
“Hey.” You wordlessly walked to the sink, starting with the dishes. And then he offered to help you, which didn’t fit the image you had of him at all.
“What?”
“I said do you want some help? I can dry them.”
“Uh sure. Thanks.”
He just nodded, grabbing a cloth. “So did you put them to sleep yet?”
“Yeah they’re supposed to call me when they’re ready. Then I’m pretty much done.”
“Are you leaving like right after?” Was he… disappointed?
“Well not right after, your mom still has to pay me.”
“Right. She paying you extra for the dishes?”
“No,” you laughed, “just wanna score some points. This job’s good money, you know? But don’t tell her I said that.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
You nodded, a little awkwardly. “So what’s the deal with the van?”
“What?”
“The huge white van parked right outside? I assume it’s not your mom’s.”
“Yeah.”
“Couldn’t you have picked a better color?”
“What?”
“You know something other than the classic creepy white van?”
He actually laughed. “I don’t think a creep would have ‘löded diper’ written on the door.”
“Maybe you’re just trying not to look too suspicious.”
“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” Was he… flirting? Well, that was… an attempt.
“What, are you inviting me? You know, I was taught not to get into creepy white vans with strangers.”
“We’re not strangers!” He held his hand up for you to shake, which you did. “I’m Rodrick.”
“Y/N.”
“So. Ho'wd you end up babysitting Greg out of all people?”
“I mean, your dad posted something about it in the newspaper and my mom told me about it. Some extra money, you know?”
“And you’re sure it’s worth it? I mean he’s a big pain in the ass.”
“Aren’t all brothers?”
“I’m not.”
“Right. You’re like a dictator to him!”
“No I’m not!”
“He was scared you were gonna beat him up if he didn’t bring you pizza.”
“He’s dumb. I wasn’t gonna beat him up that badly.”
You laughed. “Well, we’re done. Thank you for the help. You can go now if you wanna.”
“You sound like a mom.”
“Oh my god! Stop trying to make me sound old! I'm some granny cinderella who turns into an old lady who smells like a museum when midnight strikes," you teased him, and he scrunched up his nose in embarrassment.
"Right. He told you about that.”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry. To be fair, I never had a babysitter, you know? I just thought they were all old and boring.”
“Do you think I’m old and boring?” You joked.
He snorted. “No, you’re pretty.” His eyes widened, realizing what he’d just said. Way to go. “Not in that- well not that you’re not pretty, you are, but you know what I mean. You’re uh- you’re pretty compared to what I- expected?"
It was stupid, but you could feel yourself blush a little. Why was it that you always fell for the most absolute idiots? “So I’m pretty… compared to an old woman.”
“I think you should let me start over.”
“But-”
“Y/N!” You heard Greg yell from upstairs, and you left the kitchen to go see him, going up the stairs and entering his room.
“Okay, we ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you brush your teeth?”
“Yes!”
“Both of you?”
“Yup.”
“Okay I’ll believe you. But your mom told me you’re on thin ice.”
Greg rolled his eyes and both boys got on the bed. 
“Okay, goodnight. If you don’t sleep right away don’t make too much noise.”
“Are you coming over tomorrow?”
“Why, did you actually like me?”
“Just a little.”
You smiled. “Well no. But I think I might next week.”
“Cool! ‘Night, Y/N!” 
“‘Night!”. You closed the door behind you, and walked downstairs to wait for Mrs. and Mr. Heffley to return so you could go home. 
You stopped on the hallway to send your mom a quick text saying you were fine and should be leaving in a few before making your way to the living room.
To your surprise, Rodrick hadn’t gotten back to his room. Instead, he was laying on the couch, his entire body draped over it as he scrolled through his phone. He sat right up when he saw you. “Hey Y/N.”
“Hey. You not have anything to do?”
“I’m offended. But no I don’t.”
You laugh, sitting down beside him. “Okay. Well your parents must be on their way, so. Don’t have much to do either.”
“You wanna watch something?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Well a real movie.”
“Zathura’s a real movie! I like it!”
“You actually do?”
“Yes!”
“Whatever. Well an adult movie I mean.”
“Uh, an adult movie?”
“No! Not that kind!” He was blushing furiously and you found it hilarious. 
“Yeah whatever. What do you have?”
You ended up settling on a Marvel movie, but you barely had the time to start it before the doorbell rang, and you had to go get the door.
“Hey Y/N! I’m sorry we took so long, we had to go get Manny.”
“That’s fine! Rodrick and I were just about to watch a movie!”
“Rodrick came downstairs?” Mr. Heffley sounded genuinely surprised.
“Well you can finish it if you want!”
“Oh, no, I really should get going. We can finish it another time.”
“Oh well. Okay.” She put Manny down and grabbed her wallet, handing you your money. “Here, with the extra from Rowley. Hope they didn’t cause too much trouble.”
“Oh they were so cool! I was surprised.”
“Oh that’s great to hear! If they haven’t traumatized you too much we’d love to have you sit them again.”
“Oh definitely! Just give me a call.”
“Thank you, Y/N. Are you driving home?”
“Oh, no, I’m actually walking. I thought we’d be done a little earlier.”
“Oh that’s not good, we can take you-”
“I can take her!” Rodrick yelled, almost falling off of the couch in his eagerness. He stood up, walking toward you. His dad looked like he was short-circuiting.
“Are you sure?” His mom asked.
“Yeah! Come on, let’s go.” He walked quickly past the front door and into the white van.
“Sure. Bye Mrs. Heffley!”
“Bye sweetie! Tell me if he bothers you too much!”
You walked towards the van, getting in on the passenger’s seat. He turned the engine on in silence. There was an awkward atmosphere surrounding you, and you didn’t know why.
You cleared your throat. “So uh. Thanks for driving me.”
“Yeah it’s chill. Where do I turn?”
“Oh let me just- give me your phone.”
“What?”
“So I can put the address on the GPS?”
“Oh. Sure.” He handed it to you after unlocking it, and you did as you said. 
“Turn left in 200 feet,” the disembodied voice said, and he did.
“You don’t have to uh- do these things for me. You know, drive me home, help me with the dishes. It’s nice, but I’m not gonna tell on you if you don’t.”
“I know. I uh. I want to.”
“You wanna do the dishes?”
“I wanna help you.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Dunno.”
“Fine.”
You got home pretty quickly, as you didn’t live a long way from the Heffley residence, and got out of the car. 
“Thank you for driving me! Goodnight.”
“Yeah!” Rodrick yelled back, and waited for you to get in to drive off. There was a smile on your lips you couldn’t shake off, and you felt stupid for it. Was the weird wannabe rock band kid really having an effect on you?
. . .
On wednesday, you got a call from Ms. Heffley again. And then on friday, and saturday, and sunday. This could not be normal, right? But it was money, so you obviously wouldn’t refuse it. So you pulled up to the Heffley residence for the fifth time on sunday, knocking on the door as usual.
Greg opened it this time, greeting you with a confused expression. “You’re here again?”
“Miss me, kid?”
“Are they going out again?”
“Apparently.”
“Mom, Y/N’s here!”
“Oh hey sweetie! Thank you for coming!”
“No problem! Where are you off to today?”
“Well we’re going bowling. Rodrick found us these pamphlets at the mall and wouldn’t stop bugging us about trying it out, so we decided to give it a go.”
“Oh he did?” That was strange.
“And you seem to have things so under control! I can’t believe we’ve been going out so much!”
“Well I’m happy to hear it. When will you be back?”
“I’d say eleven if that’s not too late for you?”
“Oh definitely not! As long as Rodrick can drive me.”
“Oh that won’t be a problem. You ready, darling?” She asked her husband, who walked by holding Manny in one arm and a huge bag in the other. 
“Yeah.”
"Everything there?” Susan asked him, referring to the bag. She turned back to you. “Manny’s staying over at my mom’s for the first time today. Isn’t that exciting?”
“Yeah!" You exclaimed, not really getting all the excitement about it. You supposed you would if you were his mom. Right now you were just happy you didn’t have to watch over him too. Little kids were always more difficult. 
“Okay bye everyone!”
Greg and Rodrick were right behind you the moment you closed the door.
“Can we make pasta?’ Greg asked, and damn, the little dude must have had some sugar because he looked like he’d downed like three energy drinks at once.
“Well yeah. I make a killer pasta. Is Rowley coming today?”
“Yeah!”
“Cool.”
“Do you want help with the food?” Rodrick finally spoke up, and Greg looked at him like he was speaking Greek.
“Sure.”
“Are you okay?’ Greg couldn’t contain himself from asking him.
“What do you mean, assface?”
“Did you just offer to help with the food?”
“Yeah?”
“Who are you?”
“Oh shut it, dickhead.” You didn’t miss the nervous glance he gave you, clearly signaling something about you to Greg. And then Greg seemed to figure something out, his eyes going wide.
“Oh! Is that why you-” Rodrick looked alarmed, putting his hand against Greg’s mouth to keep him from talking, but he managed to get himself free. “Is that why you’ve been trying to get mom and dad to go out all week?”
“Hah. Don’t know what he’s talking about, pssht.” Rodrick laughed nervously.
“Uh sure. Well I’m already hungry so I’m thinking early dinner and then we can make dessert?”
“Yes!” Greg yelled.
“Okay but if we’re making the food you gotta set the table. Deal?” 
Greg groaned in annoyance, but agreed. “Fine.” He went on his way, and you and Rodrick made your own way to the kitchen.
“So,” you started, as you grabbed the pasta from the cabinet. “You’ve been trying to get your parents to go out all week.”
He looked everywhere but at you. “Uh, I don’t know what the kid’s on about.”
“Well, shame. Cause I was gonna thank you.”
“For what?”
“Well the more times a week I work the more money I get right?”
“Oh right. Right. So yeah you can thank me.”
“So you were setting them up to go out. Why?”
He shrugged, trying to seem cool. “Wanted to be alone.”
“You’re not alone now. You could be in your room. Or like out with your friends or whatever.”
“I didn’t anticipate that you’d actually be cool.”
“Oh you think I’m cool?”
“Yeah.” 
The water started to boil, and you threw the pasta in the pot, stirring it with a fork.
“Cool. You’re kinda cool too. You know when you’re not trying to be impressive.”
“I’m not trying to impress you!”
“I didn’t say you were trying to impress me .”
“Well I was.”
“You were.”
“Did it work?”
“Why’d you want to impress me?”
“Cause you’re cool. I wanted you to think I’m cool too.”
“Huh. Maybe I do.”
“Cool.”
“Y/N I’M DONE! I THINK ROWLEY’S HERE !” Greg’s voice came from the dining room.
“I didn’t hear the doorbell, are you sure?” You yelled back, walking past Rodrick to get the front door. Maybe you were too lost in the conversion to hear it, because the boy was standing right there when you opened it.
“Hey Y/N!” He said with a smile, greeting you with a hug, which was very on-brand for the kid. 
“Hey Rowley. You alright?”
“Yeah! I brought water balloons!”
“You did?”
“Well they’re not full of water yet so they’re just balloons but yeah.”
“Cool! You should tell Greg!”
“Will you play with us?”
“Oh I don’t know, I don’t have clothes I can get wet-”
“Well that’s not a problem!” Rodrick said, and you frowned in confusion. “You can borrow mine!”
“Oh I don-”
“C’mon, Y/N, you really gonna disappoint the boy?”
“Shut up. Fine, but you’re playing too.”
“Deal.”
“Yes!” Rowley exclaimed, before taking off, presumably to go find Greg.
“Well you wanna go up to my room?” Rodrick asked, apparently having otten some confidence from out of the blue, sporting a cocky smirk.
You laughed. “You wish. Just bring me a t-shirt.”
“Yeah. Someone’s gonna be looking like the number one Loded Diper fan out there.”
“If you bring me a white shirt I will beat you up!” You yelled, and he was already on his way upstairs. You took the past out of the pot, mixing it with the sauce you’d made, which was the easiest one you could find.
Rodrick was back as soon as you set the pot down on the table, handing you a gray shirt that , of course, had ‘loded diper’ written on it in terrible handwriting. 
“Thanks.” You draped the shirt over your shoulder and all of you ate in silence, apparently all stupidly hungry for some reason.
You were done pretty quickly, but made sure to get Greg and Rowley to promise to help with the dishes this time, since there were more.
“Okay! We’re gonna get changed!”
“Yeah me too!” You yelled back, making your way to the bathroom, changing into Rodrick’s gray shirt.
It didn’t hang as loose as you thought it would, and you laughed at the thought of Rodrick wearing a tight shirt for no reason. You supposed it was an old one he decided to turn into loded diper merch. Loded diper. What a stupid fucking name. You guessed it was fit. 
Someone knocked on the bathroom door. Rodrick. “You done? These kids are little demons, they talk so much!”
You laughed, unlocking the door and grabbing your own shirt before opening it. 
“Hello?” He looked wide-eyed, like his brain was malfunctioning, staring profusely at his shirt. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, awkwardly. “Fine. The shirt alright?”
“Yeah. A lot smaller than I expected. Does Rodrick Heffley wear crop tops?”
He shrugged, embarrassed. “Sometimes. That bad?”
“No.”
“Chicks dig the crop tops, you know.”
“Oh do they?”
“Don’t you?”
“I guess I’d have to see you in one to give an opinion.”
“Yeah that’s not happening any soon."
“Shame.”
“What?”
“I said let’s go.”
You barely had the time to walk into the front yard before Rodrick was hit on the face by a huge water balloon. You turned to see a terrified-looking Rowley at the other side. Rodrick gained his bearings again. 
“Oh you’re in, you little shit!” He seemed way too determined on winning this, but who were you to judge?
Him and Rowley occupied themselves with each other pretty much the whole time, as you did with Greg, until you got hit rather strongly in the back. You stopped what you were doing, which was aiming your next balloon at Greg, who was right in front of you, and turned around to see Rodrick laughing at you.
“Motherfucker-” you cursed yourself mentally for swearing in front of the kids, hoping they wouldn ‘t tell on you, and launched the balloon at him at full speed, it landing on his chest. 
“Hey!”
You played for about half an hour more until the sun set, and you decided it was best to get back inside. All three complained, and you laughed at the situation, because you supposed you did sort of sound like a mom when trying to convince them to get in, but they ended up listening.
“Okay what are we watching tonight?” You asked as you closed the front door behind you and dried your feet on the mat by the entrance.
“Oh can we watch a horror movie?” Greg asked.
“Nope, we know how that ends.”
“But we’ve changed!”
“It’s been less than a week!”
“People change!” Greg tried to plead, but you knew Mrs. Heffley wouldn’t like it if you caved in.
“No can do, Gregory. We can watch that Adam Sandler movie you wanted though.”
“With the little kid?”
“Yeah.”
“Fine.”
You were halfway through a second movie when the boys decided it was time for dessert, and you still had a little while before the Heffleys came back, so you decided you’d all bake cupcakes.
They didn’t turn out as great as you wished they would, but also weren’t half bad. They were a little flat and maybe a little toasted on the top, but were otherwise pretty edible. You covered them with some frosting and ate them as you finished the movie.
It turned out when you were done the Heffleys still hadn’t come back, so you decided to put the boys to sleep then. You came back to Ridrick looking at you at the other end of the hallway. 
“Hey,” you said, not expecting him to be there.
You stood there in silence for a few moments before he cleared his throat and started talking.
“Um do you wanna hang out? ‘Till they're back?” It was funny, with him. One moment he’d be full of confidence, flirting with you at the max, but, in a second, his entire demeanor would change and he’d look unsure, insecure to ask you anything.
You were starting to wonder if he wasn’t just being a stupid hormonal teenager and if he actually, maybe, had a little bit of a crush on you. But you wouldn’t entertain those thoughts, of course. First because you could be completely misinterpreting the situations, and second because you needed the job, and you hadn’t gotten enough of a read on his mom to know if she’d be cool with that.
Still, you did have nothing else to do but scroll through your phone as you waited. “Sure.”
“Oh! Cool. Uh, my room’s right there,” he pointed to a white door by his left, and you followed him in. It actually looked pretty cool. It was sort of exactly what you expected his room to look like, except maybe a little messier, if that was possible.
To each their own, I guess. It’s not like you were the cleanest person to ever walk the Earth. You sat down on his bed, and he opted to sit down on a beanbag just in front of you.
TIt's safe to say things were a little awkward. “Uh. So. Cool room.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
You studied the multiple posters he had glued to his walls. “Oh, The Cure. Cool.”
“Yeah. They’re not like super my style or anything. But they’re cool.”
“What would be your style?”
“I don’t know. Hard rock.”
“Huh. I don’t know. You just look like one of those guys who like rock but secretly listen to Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber or something when they’re alone.”
“What- what I would never- I don’t-” busted. 
You laughed at him as he tried to deny it. “I think it’s cool.”
He stopped. “You do?”
“Yeah. Taylor Swift’s cool.”
“Yeah uh. Girls dig that.”
“Do you really know what girls dig or do you just make random guesses?”
“I’m well-informed.”
“Oh are you? You have a girlfriend or something?” Subtle.
He scoffed. “Pfft. Yeah.”
“Uh- huh.”
He gave in. “No, I don’t.”
“Okay”
“You're a girl. What do you dig then?”
“What a romantic way to phrase that question. I guess I don’t know. Never stopped to think of it. What do you think we dig?”
“Uh. Bad boys?”
You let out a laugh. “Yeah I guess. But it depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether they’re nice to us.”
“So you want bad boys who are actually nice.”
“Yeah.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Uh. But I can be nice.”
“Who said you’re a bad boy to begin with?”
“Um rock band? Cool eyeliner?” He motioned to himself, mockingly.
“Well who do you wanna be nice for?”
“Uh. You? Obviously.”
Your smile faltered. There was the confidence making an appearance again.
“What?”
“Uh. You know. So I can uh- practice. For other... girls?”
“Right.”
“Or maybe not.”
“Okay I ‘m lost.”
“Do you wanna go out with me? ” He blurted out at rapid speed.
Okay, sudden much? “What?”
“Uh. We could… go to the movies or something? You seem to like movies.”
“Right. But as a… date?”
“Yeah.”
You thought about it. It was just a date, it’s not like his mom would get mad about a date, right?
“Sure.”
“What?”
“I said sure.”
His eyes widened, he didn’t seem to have been expecting a positive answer. “Oh! That’s cool! That's- cool.”
“Yeah. Cool.”
He began standing up. “Well, do you wanna-” In that very moment, before he could finish, the doorbell rang, and you made your way past him, running downstairs and getting the front door. 
“Y/N! How are we?”
You hoped the blush on your cheeks wasn’t as visible as it felt as you talked to her. “We’re great! Greg and Rowley are already in bed, Rodrick and I have been uh. Hanging out.”
“Oh that’s nice of him!” She turned to face her husband, who, in turn, grabbed your wrist. 
“What have you done to him? Are you some sort of witch?” He asked you.
You laughed awkwardly. “Oh it’s all him! He was showing me the posters in his room, we like the same bands!”
“Oh do you uh. Like rock too?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“Well we’re taking too much of your time. Is Rodrick driving you home?”
Oh, right. Shit. He was.
“Yeah I uh, think so.”
With that, he walked into your view, holding up the van keys. He’d apparently put on shades, probably so his parents wouldn’t see he had eyeliner on.
“Why do you have sunglasses on?” Mr. Heffley asked him as he walked past them.
“It’s called fashion, dad!”
Mrs. Heffley handed you the money for the night, and you went on your way, getting into the van with Rodrick, who, by now, didn’t need the GPS to get to your place. Except he wasn’t driving to your place at all.
“What are you doing?”
“Wanted a slushie. That cool?”
“I guess.”
He stopped by a 7/11 and bought each of you a slushie and some chocolate bars, which you ate outside. The wind started to get harsher, and you crossed your arms around your chest for warmth. He caught on to that, taking his striped hoodie off and giving it to you. You looked up at him, confused.
“What?”
“You’re cold.”
“Yeah but you’ll be cold.”
“Rockstars don’t get cold.”
“You’re not a rockstar.”
“Not yet."
You raised an eyebrow at him, unamused.
"Just take it!” 
You did, and put it on. This one hung looser than the shirt you’d borrowed earlier. It did help. You tried your best to contain the smile that was insisting on forming on your lips. You knew it was dumb.
“Thanks,” you mumbled under your breath, and you could see him smirk, proud of himself. “You’re so cheesy. Wouldn’t take you for it.” 
“I’m not cheesy. I’m just not an asshole.”
“You kinda are.”
“Shut up!”
You ate in silence for a bit before you decided to say what was on your mind. “Hey about that date?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t… I don’t know if we should do it.”
He tried to seem chill about it, but he looked a little hurt. “Why?”
“Well it’s not that I don’t want to! I do. For… some reason,” you added, trying to lighten up the mood. “But do you think your mom would be cool with it? I mean I don’t wanna lose this job and I don’t know if she’d really like us being alone if we’re dating.”
His face lit up. “So you’re thinking about dating me?”
Oh, you’d messed up big time now, he’d never let this go. “No! That’s not what I meant!”
“I think it is.”
“Fuck off!”
“Oh we’re using big boy words now?” He grinned.
“Shut up.”
“Well. Don’t think that should be a problem. They don’t have to know.”
“What do you mean?”
“What, do you tell your parents everything? They don’t have to know we’re dating.”
“Yeah but we’re not dating.”
“Not yet.”
“Shut up!”
“They don’t have to know we’re going on a date, then. Plus, the days you work can be like little dates.”
“Yeah except there will be two children up our asses.”
“You can manage.”
“Fine, Heffley. But if I lose my job you’ll be owing me. Like literal money.”
“Deal.”
“Cool.”
“Yeah. Cool.”
[. . .]
A/N: sometimes ur 20 pages into a diary of a wimpy kid rodrick heffley oneshot and you ask urself wtf am i doing with my life. this is the product of that. i wrote this THREE YEARS AGO WOW so i edited some of it to post it here but nothing major cause i didn't want it to lose its energy lol. btw i was in fact like. actually in high school at the time lmao. luv yall!
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ponderingmoonlight · 8 months ago
Note
JJK men doing the bicep trend. Their s/o will tie a pink string on their bicep and once they flex it’ll break off!!!
Doing the ribbon around biceps trend with JJK men
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Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Nanami x wife!reader; Toji x fem!reader; Sukuna x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,8k
Synopsis: Tying a ribbon around your boo's biceps and watching how they flex it off? Hell yeah.
Notes: not proofread, Sukuna's part is a little short because I wanted to get this out today, I'll have my knee surgery tomorrow so sorry for ignoring your comments and messages, I'll get back to you when life gets a little easier lol, totally love and appreciate your interactions, I hope you have fun with this!
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Gojo Satoru
„Come here babe, I need to show ya something real quick.”
You can’t help but yawn, annoyance dripping from every pore. Oh, your boyfriend is definitely too fit for the fact that it’s still dark outside. What time is it? If he woke you over a strange video he saw on TikTok again…
“Can’t this wait like…4 hours longer?”, you try to resist his urgent wish, shielding your tired eyes from the harsh light of the lamp above.
“I might forget until then. Hey, do you have like a band or something lying around in the bathroom?”
A…band? Your eyes dart towards him, nothing but sheer excitement written on his face. What on earth is Satoru up to now?
“My pink dress has a satin band around the waist I guess”, you mutter.
Maybe this is all he wants. Yes, he just grabs the satin band and goes straight back to sleep-
“Thank you babe!”, he shouts over his shoulder while opening your wardrobe with so much enthusiasm that the door almost falls out of it.
You flinch, rubbing your temple in a desperate attempt to keep yourself together. You love your boyfriend with all your heart, appreciate this childish side of him more than anyone else. But not when you have an important mission tomorrow and had maybe 2 hours of sleep…
“This better be something important, Satoru”, you mumble through your fingers, a sigh escaping your lips.
“Okay babe, ready to see something really big?”
“I swear if you slap your d-“
“Look at me!”
His insisting tone forces you to remove your hand from your face. There he stands, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers paired with a tight black shirt.
And a pink ribbon wrapped around his biceps tightly.
“Now watch.”
With one flex of his veiny biceps, the ribbon opens itself, your pink satin band falling to the floor while he looks at you expectant.
“I have one question”, you begin, eyes still resting on his delicious arm.
“Go ahead babe.”
“How on earth did you tie that ribbon yourself?”
He opens his mouth, nothing but pure outrage written on his face.
“Is this really everything you’re thinking about!? I just gifted you my strong arm!”, he barks overdramatically at you.
“You’re the best present ever”, you purr at your fuming boyfriend, gently stroking his arm when he finally gets back into bed.
“But if you wake me over something like that ever again, I’ll murder you.”
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Nanami Kento
“Why are you looking at me with those eyes, darling?”
You blush immediately, the day dream of that trend you saw earlier on your beloved husband not leaving your mind. Kento with a bow around his strong arm. Kento flexing his arm in front of you, causing the ribbon to open up.
…Just like your legs.
“You’re daydreaming again.”
You force yourself to look up at him only to find out that he’s already looking at you, soft eyes lightened by a spark of curiosity.
“It’s just…I saw that trend online and it kinda…reminded me of you…”, you mutter, embarrassment crawling up your veins.
You’re acting like a horny teenager over a man you call your husband for several years by now. Kento is the epitome of a gentleman, the most elegant male being walking on this earth. How stupid to even consider wrapping a ribbon around his biceps…
“Don’t be embarrassed, (y/n). Tell me what’s on your mind. What exactly is this trend about?”
He puts the paper he was reading aside and wraps his fingers gently around your chin, slowly but surely making you lose your mind. It should be forbidden for a single man to be this captivating. Should you…Just tell him? Your imagination runs wild, breath getting stuck in your throat by the simple thought of him actually doing this…
“Tying a ribbon around your biceps and opening it by tensing your arm”, you blurt out.
His eyes widen just the slightest. Oh no, does he think you’re weird, desperate, pathetic? You should really stop roaming around social media late at night-
“Why not trying it, then? Even though I don’t think I’m strong enough to untie a ribbon with my muscles.”
Wait…Did he really say yes? You blink over and over to make sure he’s not messing with you until he gets up and grabs a roll of ribbon from your cabinet before cutting off more than enough of the black band. Before you fully realize what just happened he takes off his dark blue shirt, naked skin getting exposed to the dim light of the room.
And your merciless gaze.
“Would you mind helping me out? I can’t tie a bow on my own with just one hand, darling.”
You force your mouth to stay closed, keep your palms from getting sweaty. This is your husband, goddamn.
Your husband, wearing nothing but his work pants. Your husband, holding up a black band, waiting for you to wrap it around his strong arm only because you couldn’t stop imagine him doing a stupid internet trend. Out of instinct, you follow the invitation of his stretched-out hand, fingertips pulsating against his firm muscles while you tie a perfect little bow.
Until he flexes his muscles, forcing the band to untie itself in slow motion. His beefy arm, veins threaten to pop open any given minute. How is it possible for a man to be in this shape when relaxed? Your gaze is fixated on his delicious sight in front of you – so focused that you don’t notice his other hand grabbing your chin before it’s too late.
“It seems like you’re enjoying the view”, he comments softly.
“Just because you are the view, Kento”, you clarify with a small smile, allowing him to drag you into his strong arms.
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Toji Fushiguro
“You want me to do what?”
You grab his arm tightly, doe eyes making it hard for none other than Toji Fushiguro to focus. What did you see on the internet again? “Ribbon around bicep”…What the hell?
“I want you to tie a pink ribbon around your bicep and pop it open with your beefy muscles”, you explain briefly.
“Come on babe. Why can’t I just wrap my hand around ya neck instead?”
“Tempting”, you purr, finger gliding over his firm chest delicately slow.
“But you’re the perfect match for that trend. Now sit your ass down and gimme your arm.”
Just before Toji is even able to press his longing lips against yours, you shove him onto the couch and position yourself on top of him, pink ribbon dangling from your fingertips.
“C’mon (y/n)”, he groans, pouting like a little child when you slap the hand that tried to dig into your butt away.
“Hold still. I need to concentrate”, you instruct him.
“Promise we’ll fu-“
“DONE!”, you scream out, the sheer excitement radiating from your voice making him stop mid-sentence.
His eyes follow your gaze, revealing a wonky-looking bow tied around his biceps so firmly that it might burst any minute.
“And now you want me to do what?”, he questions.
It’s hard to keep himself from smiling when you sit in front of him grinning like an idiot. Is that really all it takes? A fucking ribbon wrapped around his biceps? What a strange thing you are.
But still…
You look so breathtakingly gorgeous that he can’t keep up his annoyed façade.
“Flex your muscles babe!”, you instruct him, index finger poking into his biceps.
Fine, he’ll do you the favour. Slowly, he lifts up his arm before popping open the bow with ease, watching the shocked expression on your face.
“That trend was totally made for you, Toji!”, you shriek, your eyes still fixated on his arm.
“Let’s do that again.”
“I know something better.”
All it takes is a swift motion for you to lay underneath him, your hot breath escaping your lips in shock.
“I’m next, babe”, he breathes out.
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Bonus: Sukuna
“Why did I even agree to do this…”, the king of curses mumbles while you’re busy tying another ribbon around his arm.
“Hold still, I’m not done yet.”
“You already tied this one three times, (y/n). I’m getting impatient.”
“Oh, I know you don’t. Deep down you enjoy me caressing your arm”, you reply with a cheeky grin, carefully forming another bow around his fourth arm.
Tying a bow around a single arm already sounding inviting, but the stinging fact that your lover has not only two but four arms to offer for this delicious trend…There was no way in hell for you to resist this opportunity.
“Really deep down”, he grumbles.
“I’m done. Now stand still and don’t move until I say so”, you bark at him while taking a few steps back.
“Watch how you talk to me or I’ll-“
“Shut up Sukuna, your threats don’t work for me. Okay, flex your muscles in three, two, one…”
Out of instinct, he lifts up his four arms and pops open every ribbon you tied so laborious these pasts minutes. Damn, he really feels like an idiot, standing in front of you shirtless with pink ribbons falling from his arms. But that look on your face, the way you clap your hands in sheer excitement, that phone…Wait.
“Did you film this, brat?”
You blink a few times, the smile on your face disappearing as fast as it came.
“Maybe I did”, you reply, quickly turning on your heels and sprinting away.
“Delete that right now!”
“I will watch this every time I go to bed!”
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Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru @starlightanyaaa
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hiddenlife-manager · 6 months ago
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you should totally write a one shot about ollie bearman x reader celebrating the jeddah gp (smut)
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Oliver Bearman x Fem Reader
cw... blowjob, jerking him off, whimpering ollie, slight sub ollie, slight dom reader, best friends, plot, etc...
notepad... WELL I finally finished this there are a lot of errors but oh well. I have been stuck on this for a while so thank god it is done. Amen to me hehe.
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You two were sitting on the floor of his room; it was an abnormally big room. He was used to small hotel rooms, yet here you two were eating at a coffee table on the floor since you refused to sit on a chair. His hands rested on his neck as he felt nothing but pure soreness from the race. He acted like it didn’t bother him during his post-interviews; it was clear he was worn down from the race.
“If you are sore, you should lay down on the bed.” You were calmly speaking to him, eating Dajaj Mashwi with manakeesh, as it was what he ordered. It seemed to be his favorite meal here; you were unsure if you were supposed to eat it with manakeesh. "Besides, having to face an average of 4.5 g per turn is difficult on the neck. Saudi Arabia is considered a hard circuit to race in Formula 1. You should rest.”
“I should eat… ugh.” His deep voice stated that he was trying to eat, but it was clear that he struggled to move his body. He was extremely sore; you saw this and crawled to him on all fours. The sight of you crawling toward him made his face suddenly go red. You were breathtaking to him, but he knew it was wrong to think so.
"Here, let me help.” You offered, you brought food to his mouth, and he was left in shock that you were trying to feed him. He took a deep breath and looked at you. “I'm your best friend; this is the least I can do. Consider it a gesture of congratulations.” He couldn’t help but hold a rosiness to his cheek, as you wanted to feed him. He opened his mouth and looked at you. He noticed your breast slightly peeking out of your top, and he gulped with food in his mouth. He suddenly choked and coughed, and you were shocked. “How do you choke so easily?” You handed him a bottle of water while he coughed.
“I d-don’t” He stuttered out and sipped the water. He looked at you and went back to the food. Why was he holding such feelings for you right now? You two should be celebrating his debut, and yet here he was nervous, unable to look you in the eye. “My neck is just sore.”
“Hmm, okay. Are you sure it is just your neck that has you all worked up?” He tried to crawl away from you casually so you wouldn’t notice his awkwardness. As he used his hands to scoot away from you, he realized how much it hurt. 
“Did you hear a knock at the door?” He attempted to distract you from seeing his boner in his pants. You turned your head, and as you did, his hands flew, grabbing onto a pillow and placing it on his lap. You shook your head, sure that you didn’t hear a knock. “I guess my head is playing games with me.” He laughed awkwardly, his hands at the collar of his shirt, pulling it a bit as the pillow continued to sit on his lap. 
"Oh, really, are you okay? Let me check your temperature.” You got closer and leaned toward him with your hand, and his face got redder. “You are red as a tomato.” You state that right as you were about to land your hand on his forehead, he shifted. You fell on top of him. The moment you did, you felt something poking at your ass. 
“Mhm…” You froze, and that was the moment your face got super hot. 
“I am so sorry.” You said you tried to crawl off his lap and managed to pull another moan out of him. You were hot; the sound was so sudden, and you were unaware that you had that effect on him. 
“No, it's my fault.” He tried to hide his red face, and you were hot to the touch. Staring at your best friend, you realized he had some sort of attraction to you. He shifted uncomfortably, and you wanted to help, maybe out of your own disgusting fantasy or maybe to show him it wasn’t wrong.
“I can help.” He suddenly fell back as he was scooting away. He started to stutter. You crawled to him and placed your hands on his jeans. You always told him to wear better pants. “Is it okay if I can?” He was silent for a bit while you froze, waiting for his response, and in a few seconds, he nodded sheepishly, unable to look you in the eye. 
You unzipped his pants, your hands working quick wonders; it was no secret you knew what to do. At the same time, you two were grown adults with significant others. You gulped as you moved his cock to the side of his boxers through the hole. He was hard, and it was very evident. Ollie was trying so hard to hold back small whimpers of pleasure as your cold hands touched his bare cock. 
“Can I?” He nodded quickly, and you began to go up and down his cock, using his pre-cum to slightly get his cock a bit moist. After you went up and down from the base, you gently spit on his cock and smiled up at him. Your mouth got close, and you licked the tip as you heard him moan and slightly shifted away from the pleasure. He was embarrassed but wanted you to continue. 
“You can put it in your mouth.” He whimpered out, and all you did was smile so much as you opened your mouth and let him inside your mouth only a little at a time as you went up and down, inching his cock slowly down your throat. The view left Ollie winded; he thought you were the most beautiful person to ever exist, and you were his best friend. 
Slowly but surely, you began to suck at his cock, your tongue swirling around it as you saw and heard him whimpering. Attempting not to put his hands on you. He was unsure what to do with his hands, as he almost had to put them anywhere but you. Sucking him while bobbing your head up and down, you used your free hand and grabbed it, holding it as you continued to pleasure him. He was clearly nervous, and you knew he needed comfort. The feeling in your mouth was becoming too much. 
He began to thrust up into your mouth; doing so, he ended up thrusting into the back of your throat, causing you to gag, and he began to get nervous, but you shook your head and continued to swirl your tongue and go up and down. As you removed yourself from his cock, a pop could be heard, and you let go of his hand, staring up at him. Your hands wrapped around the base of his cock and pumped him. 
“You can cum on my face, Ollie; I don't mind.” You said it softly, with a smile brighter than the sun staring right at him. He was weak and could barely utter a word, but he wanted so badly to cough. His cock thrust into your hands as they felt so perfect. All he did was hum with a whimpering undertone. You continued to go up and down with your hands, quickening the pace as you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. 
“Ah, close, too close." He moaned out, and right when he let the last moan out, a long whimper could be heard, and white strings up and down hit your face and tongue. You didn’t stop pumping his cock; his body tensed while he was cumming. You were smiling and licking at the tip of his cock. 
“Congratulations in Saudi Arabia; a gift to you from me, Ollie.”
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00-jammy-00 · 6 months ago
Note
Hi! 🌙 anon here!! Don't worry it's totally okay I make mistakes like that all the time too :D
I don't remember what I said exactly but I remember I said something like a Yandere kidnaps a transmasc Y/n and teases his clit and gets him cock drunk. With like an aphrodisiac and constantly being needy for the Yandere type thing? Perhaps overstim and multiple orgasms? I'm sorry I forget (●//▽//●)
Also side note, I typed out this ask and accidentally deleted it instead of sending it too--so clearly this is an easy mistake to make!
Alrighty, love your blog and the masterpieces you write! And I know I didn't say this last time but your pfp is so cute I love it
Yan!Kidnapper [Cock-drunk Reader Scenario]
Yan!Kidnapper x GN! Reader
Content warning - Yandere themes, THIS IS SMUT, He’s your kidnapper so mentioned kidnapping, mean yan, spanking (once), slight choking (once), he loves your nipples, psycho yan, he’s just a jerk
A/N - thank you so much for resubmitting your ask 🌙 anon <3 As you said in your second ask, I don’t write for anything other than GN reader so I’ve just adjusted your ask to that xo. This Yan is actually a little sneak peak of a new oc I’ll be adding soon. This is also my first time writing full smut so sorry if it’s not the best 🙏
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———————————————————————————————————
“For fucks sake [Reader], you got to keep still baby.” Jasper grunted, rubbing his tip against your hole before pulling it away once more. His grin only grew when he heard a whine slip from your lips. “Such a little slut for me, yeah? Your hole is trying to suck me in.” He chuckled, leaning his head lower to tug on one of your nipples with his teeth.
Your lovely kidnapper of a few months had decided it was a good idea to buy that viral sex chocolate or whatever the fuck he had seen on TikTok. It obviously did the trick because you were currently panting and whining just from the feel of his cock near you. “Christ babe, if you keep moving I’m going to tie you up.” He hissed, bringing a hand down on your ass in hopes it’ll stop you from fucking moving.
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to hold himself back from just pounding you. Last time he did that, you bitched about it for so long. He blew some cold air on your nipple and laughed mockingly when you squirmed. “Do you want my cock? You want me to fuck you? Thought you said I was insane and shit?” He grinned, giving a rough tug to your already puffy nipples. “If you say please, I’ll give you what you want.”
He rubbed his cock head up and down your entrance at a teasingly slow pace. Up, down, up, down, up, down. You couldn’t take it anymore! When he finally heard that magic word tumble out of your mouth he eagerly slammed into you in one go, relishing in the sound you made. He grabbed onto your hips with a bruising grip and started to thrust, making sure to hit that special spot that made you scream.
“Fuck! You’re so tight! Such a pretty whore for me.” Jasper groaned, lifting your legs over his head. He pressed a kiss to your ankle before nipping at it with a smirk. “Might cum just from looking at your face. You’re making such cute faces at me babe.” He slid his hand up and gripped your throat, giving it a small squeeze before giving your nipple a sloppy kiss. “Keep squeezing me [Reader]. Fuck yeah, that’s it!” He grunted though his voice became slightly whiny as he picked up his pace.
“Gonna cum in your pretty hole, yeah? You like that?” He wiped some saliva from your chin before sticking two of his fingers in your mouth. He began to push them in and out at the same pace of his thrusts, eyes lighting up when your eyes rolled back into your head. “Look at you, going all dumb on my cock.” He cooed mockingly, moving his hands back down to your hips. “I’m about to cum so hold still, okay?” He murmured, pressing a loving kiss to your temple before thrusting quicker.
With a final moan, he came inside you. He was panting, eyes gone hazy before he snapped out of it and kissed your forehead. “You were so good for me, gonna clean you up now, don’t worry.” He hummed, pulling out and moving to the bathroom. While he ran a bath, he couldn’t stop the giddy smile from spreading across his face. Jasper finally fucking had you, you were his, fully. He wasn’t going to let you go, never, especially after you enjoyed having sex with him so much!
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Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3
please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.
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someprettyname · 3 months ago
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BLLK BOYS MEETING YOUR PARENTS FOR THE FIRST TIME (HCs ver.)
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characters included : Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru, Shidou Ryusei, Barou Shoei, Chigiri Ryusei, Reo Mikage, Yukimiya Kenyu
a/n : has this been done already? I've been wanting to do for quite a time now I finally got over my laziness :] here's my vision for it y'all, I hope you enjoy :]
total word count : 1.5k (😱)
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Lets start with the ultimate green flag best boy totally not because I'm whipped :D
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1) He's a well cultured man who grew up in a healthy family, so that says a lot. 
2) have you seen how he used to put together chigiri's carekit, assemble the laundry, and wake nagi up? 
3) yeah. 
4) he's good at formalities and keeping a harmony in his environments. Thank his Fe aux and the fact that he's INFJ, but he KNOWS (by default) how to behave in a social setting really well. That just comes naturally to him. 
5) so of course he'd dress well, wear a kind smile and bring along gifts. 
6) your parents - no matter how "conservative" and against the idea of you having a boyfriend/love marriage they are - would be DELIGHTED. He's a good player, stable in career, good looking, rich, well behaved. Damn. You really bagged the perfect guy. They can't say anything even if they WANT to. 
7) and it's not like they can deny the way he looks at you. 
8) Any normal parent would approve of him SO QUICK. SO QUICK, MATE. SO QUICK. 
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1) Sweet sweet fluff ball he is. 
2) he's goofy most of the times, but of course you matter to him so much. So he would tame himself. 
3) and everything goes smoothly from there 😙
4) no questionable outfit, well behaved and polite. He took tips from Isagi afterall :3 (and isagi has a PRETTY GOOD social awareness) 
5) extra plus points if you have younger siblings or cousins OR a pet. No explanation needed there. He'd get along with them really well :] 
6) would offer to help your mom in the kitchen (i mean, he had a single mom afterall, man knows nothing but respect for mother) and insist on it - that's where he won your mom over by the way :) <3 
7) now there can be two cases - either you have a black cat energy or are an introvert, in which case your parents would be relieved you finally found someone who can bring you out of your shell 
8) or you're an extrovert or have golden retriever energy - in which case your parents might internally sigh thinking of all the chaos you both might stir up (even if you both are pretty tamed in front of them) but they can't help adore you both >.<
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1) .....
2) yeah
3) good luck. 
(on a serious note though, if you're dating him you're more likely to be a sweet, introverted girl. So your parents would be happy that you found someone who can bring you out of your shell pt 2. Though his wilder, more violent side can be.... concerning, hopefully, he tames himself up for you atleast a little bit. That'd probably be easy given how much of a calming effect you have on him :3) 
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1) See. you need to understand my vision here. Barou off field is a guy you'd 100% want to date okay? 
2) he's the brother of 2 younger sister, hopefully (unlike my elder brother 🥰) he KNOWS how to treat women. Okay? 
3) I mean, did you see how he treated her mother when she was pregnant on the light novel? Chef kiss. He's definitely a green flag guy okay? 
4) if you've hung out with enough guys (which I'm pretty sure you have) you'd know how nasty a boy to boy only conversation can get. How they so disgustingly objectify women. Yeah. Uh huh. Barou's the kind of guy who'd NOT hesitate to step in and stop that bullshit whenever discussions with his male friends go in that direction. You get my vision now? 
5) he's definitely a family man who RESPECTS his family. He's a guy who you'd want to take back to your mama's (or dada's but that'd spoil my lyrics reference) house ygwim ;) 
6) if you have a traditional family, congrats. You bagged yourself THE perfect man your parents could've imagined. They are proud of you 😂❤️
7) look. I see the dad to boyfriend rapid fire round as something REALLY important (considering your dad isn't a red flag and is not trying to sabotage your happiness 🙏🏻) because ONLY MEN know how nasty other men can get and what they need to protect their daughters from. And Barou? Honey he is PASSING THAT RAPID FIRE ROUND WITH FLYING COLOURS!!!!
8) a supposedly good looking rich guy (who bought them *cough* some real expensive *cough* gift when he came over dinner) who knows what he's doing? Pass. 
9) I'm sure your parents would notice how his eyes soften in the slightest everytime he looks at you and that'd be enough to tell them how he's whipped for you (no matter how firm he's on the outside) and you've found yourself the right guy ;) 
10) (plus the sight of him walking out of his black and red sports with the bouquet of flowers was a SIGHT. TO. BEHOLD. Barou is a classy man afterall.) 
11) yay! WOOP WOOP 🎉
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1) He has a older sister, that should be your first cue ;) 
2) he's handsome okay? LIKE ONE OF THE PRETTIEST, MOST HANDSOME GUY YOUR PARENTS WOULD EVER MEET. 
3) He'd enter the room and it'd be LIT UP by his beauty. He's AMAZING. Your parents would be BLOWN away. They just can't help it. (So blown away that they accidentally forget the part where they had to question his hair length xD) 
4) of course they have seen him on TV and googled him but seeing him in real life was a while different thing. Can you imagine the scene? You see my vision? 
5) imagine him walking in in a white button up, his hair neatly done and muscles straining through his shirt as he holds the rose bouquet in his hands gracefully. Plus he smells good. 
6) yeah. 
7) (even you'd be blown away, what's your parents anyways 😔) AND THEN THEY REALISE THAT HE IS A GREEN FLAG AND RICH TOO? 
8) woman. 🤨 Don't embarass them. Why aren't you both married already? 🤨
9) If it's over at yours (as opposed to a formal setting like a restaurant) that the dinner is planned, he's definitely offering help to your mom :D 
10) and of course your father would know he's a gentleman too, so he's another guy who'd get approved real quick 😌↕️
11) (he bought your mom jewellery, haircare & skincare stuff over others afterall, how can she NOT?! She's CHARMED by her son-in-law. Not to be son-in-law. In her mind you're both married already 🥰) 
12) be ready to bear with your parents getting insufferable about deciding marriage dates and who all to call in your wedding after he has left :3
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1) 😂
2) 😂😂😂
3) Woman. If you are a Reo girlie, why are you even reading this? 😂
4) i mean, no offence but it's actually surprising you have doubts about him impressing your parents 😂
5) he's THE Mikage heir. The dream son-in-law of everyone in the nation 😂 
6) until and unless you are the daughter/heiress of an equally famous and rich company, your parents would be questioning how YOU bagged HIM. That says a lot 😂
7) He's a man of culture. He KNOWS how to impress people. How knows how to tilt everything in his favour AND he's charming. You see how much of a deadly combo that is when it comes to convincing your parents? 
8) even if your parents are HELLBENT on not approving him, he'd know how to convince, do you worry even a bit sweetheart. 
9) he's not here to get approved, he's here to finalise the marriage dates /j 
10) And even though he KNOWS he doesn't really need to do much to convince your parents given his place in social hierarchy and all that money, looks, power - he's humble. He RESPECTS and TREASURERS you. He'd do everything to make sure he's WINNING the heart of your parents by the end of the night ^_^ 
that there is no scope of doubt. He gotta get what he wants afterall. 
11) Dressing up well, looking and smelling good, the many gifts, behaving politely, offering help, striking up an interesting conversation and keeping up with anything thrown at him, flattering your parents - he's got it all up his sleeve. 
12) all you gotta do is sit back and watch your parents get ENCHANTED under his charming spells :3
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1) Another green flag when it comes to dating. He's a Fe user too isn't he? 
2) one of my moots posted about her mother giving him the highest rating among the other blue lock guys so...yeah. That says a lot doesn't it? 
3) he'd pass the vibe check of your mom SO QUICK as if it's a light breeze :3 
4) your mom would have her eyes 👀 on him. He's a son-in-law material afterall + he definitely 100% offered to help her in the kitchen :3
5) a good looking, well behaved rich guy who respects you? Chef kiss. 
6) pass pass passsssss
7) he'd answer all the questions your dad poses at him SO WELL (and so smartly and confidently) so he's impressing your dad before the dinner ends as well 😌↕️
8) as long as your dad isn't a red flag (which many dads are unfortunately) he'd SPECIALLY love him 👍🏻 just a feeling :3
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That's it for today ladies and gentlemen. Adios. 🙇🏻‍♀️
[ divider credits to @plusmio hehe you have the BEST dividers fr ]
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lovebugism · 5 months ago
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Hiii can i request shy reader whos anxious about different things? I have weird anxiety lol that makes it hard for me to eat in front of people until im comfortable around them. Can i request reader x Steve who have been dating for a while and she tries to avoid eating around him, but she finally gets comfortable and Steve is just so happy, thank you!!
hope you like it angel :D — steve takes care of his anxious gf at a family barbecue (established relationship, hurt/comfort ish, cw for mentions of anxiety and unexplained issues with food | 1.1k)
bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)
The picnic table in Steve’s backyard is hardly big enough for all of you. Even when Max and El agree to lay out on a blanket together some feet away — and when Lucas and Erica spontaneously decide to race each other to the pool — it’s still an achingly tight fit. 
You, in particular, are sandwiched between two bodies much larger than yours. Eddie sits to your right, lacking any real concept of personal space, and Steve is off to your left. The latter keeps a strong arm around your back, hugging you closer to his chest every time the wild-haired boy accidentally knocks into you.
“Okay, me and Nance are getting something to eat,” Robin announces, standing suddenly from the table, visibly overstimulated from the constant conversation. Her eyes flit to your cowering form and then to Steve’s protective one. “You guys have fun with… this.”
It takes all of ten seconds for the others to follow behind them. Dustin and Eddie file through the Harrington family barbecue together, filling their decorative paper plates like they’re at an actual buffet. Mike and Will walk on pale, lanky legs around the yard — stopping once to talk to Max and El, then again by the pool with Lucas and Erica.
You and Steve are the only ones still sitting, but he hugs you to him like you aren’t. 
You can feel the early summer breeze on your skin now, without the crowd of teenagers suffocating you. You can hear the whispering wind, and the gentle humming of his pool, and the sounds of quieter conversation in the distance. You can breathe again. Almost. Still slightly strangled by a distant worry that Steve can read from here.
“Are you hungry?” he wonders cautiously, ‘cause he knows how you are about food. You haven’t let him in on the extent of it yet, but he knows it’s there, so he’s obscenely patient with you accordingly.
You glance once over your shoulder — at the tables of grilled meat and food cooked with love. Your stomach rolls with a distant ache, an empty one. You turn back to Steve and shrink under the weight of his honey-eyed stare. “Um… Kinda,” you confess in a mousy voice, shifting on the wooden bench.
His eyes widen in a soft look of surprise. You usually take a little more coaxing than that. 
“Want me to make you a plate?” he offers, squeezing your shoulder with a gentle hand. His pink lips quirk in a sympathetic smile. “We can take it up to my room if you want— get away from all these freaks.”
Your chest warms at his efforts to accommodate you. The way he loves you makes you brave. 
“That’s okay,” you shrug, trying to be cool even though your voice trembles. “We can... We can stay down here.”
Steve’s chest swells with pride. It bubbles up like sunshine until he’s beaming with it. 
It took you months to feel comfortable enough to eat in front of just him. And here you are now, utterly adored and finally brave enough to eat with all the rest of his shithead friends around.
“Yeah?” he hums, still smiling.
“Yeah,” you nod, gaze averted to your hands, which are wringing something fierce in your lap. You force a small laugh. “But it wouldn’t be, like, totally lame if I asked you to come with me, would it?”
Steve scoffs. “Like you even have to. I’m not let you get to the corndogs before me,” he jokes and rises from the creaking bench. “We’ll be lucky if Robin and Henderson don’t eat ‘em all first.”
He gets you laughing so you don’t think twice about meandering across the yard with him — about the eyes that are or are not watching you, or the weird way you are or are not walking. 
And because he keeps you laughing (and largely unthinking), you end up stacking your plate with more food than Steve’s ever seen you eat in public before. He almost mentions it. Almost. But he opts to keep his pride to himself, instead, lest he ruin the moment.
You return to the picnic table with all his friends, noticeably less anxious about being so squished together than before. 
And maybe it’s because Dustin and Eddie can’t eat anything without being sloppy — or maybe it’s because Will’s keeping you distracted with talks of his newest D&D campaign — but you down your food with more ease than Steve’s ever seen from you. Unworried about the crumbs sticking to your fingers and the very corner of your mouth. Completely and utterly comfortable here with him, and with everyone else around you.
The sight makes his heart swell. 
It’s like he’s falling in love with you all over again.
He catches you alone for the first time when you’re tossing empty plates. It’s not exactly the most ideal spot to steal a kiss from you — by the deck, next to the garbage bins — but it’s the first either of you have been out of sight from prying eyes all day. 
So, Steve takes the opportunity and grabs it. Literally. He cradles your wrist in a gentle hand and ushers you closer towards him. Your feet stumble in the tall grass. The tip of his nose brushes the bridge of yours, and you flinch. 
“I taste like cheeseburger,” you laugh.
“I don’t care,” Steve shrugs, face screwed, visibly mourning your mouth. “I taste like barbecue. Who gives a shit?”
He ducks down to kiss you again. And this time, you let him. 
He kisses you harder than you anticipated — a long and languid peck that takes your breath away. He tastes faintly of all the food he’d eaten before, something savory and strawberry sweet. It leaves you dizzy when he pulls away, lips smacking softly as they part.
“What was that for?” you wonder breathlessly a moment later.
Steve bounces his shoulder in a lazy shrug. His kissed lips quirk in a lopsided smile. “Nothin’. I’m just… I’m just proud of you, I guess.”
He doesn’t elaborate any further. He doesn’t have to. You cower at the notion of being perceived and scrunch your nose in disdain. “For being a normal person?” you joke with a cynical scoff. “For once?”
“No. For doing something that was hard for you,” Steve argues, still smiling. His hands rest warm and wide on the outside of your elbows. His thumbs rub softly along the skin there. “And for lookin’ real cute while you were doing it, too.”
You squint, trying hard not to smile at his smiling. 
“Stop flirting with me,” you grouse.
The boy’s pink lips jut in a playful pout. “But why?” he whines. “That’s, like, my favorite pastime.”
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headfarintheclouds · 4 months ago
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Kenji Sato As A Boyfriend HC
I finally had some time to sit down and write something TuT Hope you'll like it :D If there is any Gramma mistakes I apologize, English is not my first language ToT
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Ken would put you first no matter the situation. Sure he loves Baseball and all, but if you got hurt or sick he would totally skip practice or the game to be with you. Even if you insist on him leaving, after all Mina is more than capable of taking care of you.
Before getting together with him you lived in a normal apartment near the city center. But after the news of you dating spread out Kenji swooped in and all but made you live with him in his mansion. His reason being, that he wanted to keep you save from the journalists and Kaiju's but deep down you knew he was waiting for the opportunity to have you for himself 24/7.
If you don't speak Japanese he will teach you. He finds it absolutely adorable whenever you try to pronounce an especially hard word. Your accent makes it so much more endearing for him.
He has multitude of nicknames for you. There is rarely time when he uses your real name when addressing you. Baby girl, Princess and Doll are definitely his favorite ones. If he's feeling especially sappy he'll call you Darling or Beautiful.
He's clingy. Not overly so, but he tends to hover over you or hold your hand whenever the two of you were in public. At first you thought he liked the PDA and you weren't wrong, but the hand holding was purely because he was scared. "I know it's stupid, but I always have this irrational fear of your disappearing like my mom did. And I can't function without you by my side, princess."
Ken is a great cook ! He would totally make you breakfast in bed after his morning training session. Dinner made by him was a rare treat you learned to enjoy, after all he was juggling being a baseball star and a superhero. Not to mention he was an adopted daddy to a very adorable Kaiju living underneath your guys' house.
Speaking of Emi. If you thought she was a daddy's girl you are solely mistaken, because as soon as you enter the room she looses all interest in Ken all together. Of course she still adores him, but you are by far her favorite human ! She chirps and claps her hands in excitement whenever you enter the base. I melts Ken's heart whenever he sees the two of you interacting with one another. He has so many photos of you and Emi saved on his phone !
He loves to see you in his clothes, especially with his jersey on. He still has an old one from the time he played for Dodgers and you use it as a nightie. It's comfortable ! And it does things to him too... God the first time you put it on. Let's just say you couldn't walk for a day or two after ;)
We all know Kenji is rich-rich. So it's no surprise he buys you expensive gifts all the time. You once mentioned that you liked a specific car, and guess what ? The week after that there was a new shiny (dream car) in your favorite color, parked outside the mansion. After that incident you stopped mentioning things you liked or wanted to buy in fear of him going bankrupt. He told Mina to hack your Amazon Wishlist and bought you all of the items just to spite you.
If you work or study he will support you every step of the way. Just like you support him during his games. If you are a university student he will sit down with you and ask you some questions, help you study and keep an eye on you. He wants you to be successful yes, but you still need to sleep and eat !
Kenji likes to mess with you in his Ultraman form, much to his fathers disapproval. Whenever he takes care of Emi he has to transform, and he uses every opportunity to pluck you from the ground and place you on his shoulder. The first time he did it you screamed like a banshee making poor baby Emi jump in fright. Thank God she doesn't really speak human language, you would die of shame if she repeated any of the words you called Kenji that time.
After a year of being together he'll start carrying a small velvet box around. And inside would a ring his father proposed to his mother with, something she gave him long time ago. He would wait patiently, looking for the best way and time to pop the question. But until then he'll enjoy your company and make more memories with you and Emi by his side :)
I hope ya'll liked it ! I feel really good about this one ngl :D GOD I LOVE THIS MAN !
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zaczenemiji · 5 months ago
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absolutely no rush if you're occupied with other asks :D!! I love your writing so so much your descriptions and dialogue are so good 😭💓 could I possibly request a scenario where the reader (working alongside kenji as ultraman/on the sidelines as a civilian, whatever you desire!!) unexpectedly throws herself in front of kenji and takes a hit for him (bonus points of they had unresolved tension before [argument, interrupted confession, one character was sick and rejecting help etc etc; no pressure at all and pls write whatever you'd like i'm just throwing out random suggestions!!]) + the hurt/comfort to follow after? thank you so much! ☺️ i wish you the best!
In the Heart of Danger
Kenji Sato x Reader
Synopsis: As tensions between Kenji and the KDF rise, you become entangled in the conflict, leading to a dangerous confrontation that puts your life at risk.
Word Count: 2,710
Genre/Warning: Action, Angst, Drama, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Sacrifice, Violence
Author’s Note: Slight mention of themes from Too Good, Too True
MASTERLIST
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For many years, Ultraman and the Kaiju Defense Force worked in harmony. But as KDF evolved under different leadership, so did its philosophy. Their arsenal grew more lethal, their strategies more aggressive. Dr. Onda's vision was clear: the complete eradication of all kaiju was the only path to true safety.
Ultraman held a different perspective. Those magnificent creatures had their own place in the natural order. He believed in protecting life; only fending them off to prevent destruction, not to annihilate them.
KDF’s methods became increasingly ruthless. Where Ultraman sought balance, KDF saw only the necessity of total elimination. The final straw came when KDF started viewing Ultraman's reluctance to kill as a liability, a hindrance to their ultimate goal of eradication.
Thus, the Kaiju Defense Force turned their attention to identifying Ultraman's human form, intent on neutralizing this perceived threat.
"Kenji, you can't keep dismissing this," you said, frustration lacing your voice. "The KDF is closing in on you. They know something's up, and they're not going to stop until they confirm you're Ultraman."
The evening air was thick with tension as you and Kenji sat across from each other in his house. It started with a simple disagreement but it had escalated so quickly.
Kenji ran a hand through his hair, his expression one of exasperation. "I know the risks, (y/n),” he replied. “But I can handle it. I've been doing this for a while now."
"Handling it?" you echoed, incredulous. "You've barely been able to stay one step ahead of them. They've got advanced technology, Kenji. They're not just going to give up."
You remember the incidents with Gigantron, how KDF was willing to get rid of Ultraman, so as to obtain Emi. And for what reasons? To use a frikking baby to lead them to Kaiju Island—to massacre, for the mass murder of those misunderstood creatures.
Kenji sighed heavily, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of determination and fatigue. "I can't stop,” he said. “If I don't transform, people will die."
"I'm not asking you to stop," you said, your voice softening. "I'm asking you to be more careful—to consider the danger you're putting yourself in."
Kenji's jaw tightened and he looked away, the weight of your words settling heavily on his shoulders, “I know you're worried about me. But I can't just sit back and do nothing."
"Then let me help," you pleaded, reaching out to touch his arm. "We're a team, remember? You don't have to do this alone."
"I can't put you in danger, too,” he pulled away slightly, his expression hardening. “It's bad enough that I have to deal with this. I don't want you getting hurt because of me."
"Kenji," you said, your voice firm. "I'm already involved. Whether you like it or not, I'm in this with you. And I'm not just going to stand by and watch you risk your life without doing anything."
He shook his head, his frustration evident. "You don't understand,” he said. “If something happened to you... I wouldn't be able to live with myself."
"And what about me?" You shot back, your eyes filling with tears. "Do you think I could live with myself if something happened to you, and I did nothing to stop it?"
There came a long silence.
He never asked for any of this—you know that firsthand. You didn’t want this either. Only a fool would want to throw away the peaceful life they had in LA, away from the chaos, the danger, and the constant fear of losing their beloved.
But when Emi came and when Kenji reconnected with his dad, you both understood. Ultraman is a vital element, the pinnacle of balance, the one that would keep the world in its equilibrium.
He who holds the scale holds the lives of many. He who carries the burden also carries fear. And with it, the sacrifices to ensure the collective safety of humanity.
Your tears spilled over, and you wiped them away angrily. "You're an idiot, Kenji,” you said. “A noble, self-sacrificing idiot. But I'm not going to let you do this alone. Whether you like it or not, I'm going to help you. And you're just going to have to deal with that."
"No. You don't get it,” Kenji's expression hardened again. “This isn't about what you want. It's about keeping you safe."
"And what if I don't want to be safe?” You demanded, your voice breaking. “What if I want to be there for you?"
"That's not your choice to make!" Kenji shouted, his frustration boiling over. "I can't lose you, (y/n)!”
"And I can't lose you either!" you screamed back. "Why can't you see that?"
Kenji's eyes flashed with anger. "You should have just stayed in LA!" he snapped, his voice cutting through the night. "You're becoming too nosy, and it's dangerous. I can't have you getting involved in this.”
You stared at him, stunned. Kenji never hurt you in any way, especially not physically. But the weight of his words hit you like a punch to the gut.
Without another word, you turned and stormed off, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn't look back, even as the tears blurred your vision.
Kenji stood to follow. But with the way you ran away, he knew you didn’t need him at the moment. Still, he worried for your safety. Quickly, he rode his motorcycle and followed you quietly from a distance to ensure you reached home safely.
Everything that unfolded hurt Kenji as much as it did you, if not more. This was the time he finally truly understood his father—why he let them move to LA, why he had to endure the pain of being separated—all because he wanted them safe.
Kenji loves you more than anything, more than you ever knew. He loved you enough to have the resolve to let you go if you finally wanted to be out of all this. You deserved the best, better than a complicated life with him.
When he had seen to it that you’re home safely, he stayed in front of your house a little longer, wanting to be there in case you needed him.
You knew what he was doing. You knew that he was following you. And you were grateful, truly grateful, that he didn’t let you be out here alone. He understood the space you needed and he respected it. This was just one of the infinite reasons you love him so much.
When you arrived home, you sat by the door, leaning on it as you let your tears flow freely down your cheeks. Kenji is a hero, and heroes need saving, too. You wanted to be the one to do that.
Little did you know, you were already doing so. You didn’t know how much you were saving him by being there for him. You have been doing so since day one—since meeting you in LA, losing his mom, coming back to Japan, raising Emi, and fully accepting his role as Ultraman.
Your eyelids became so heavy from all the tears that you didn’t notice that you’d drifted off to a nap. You were awakened by the sound of Kenji’s motorcycle engine as he started it.
You stood to take a peek through your window, careful not to let him see you. He looked your way one last time before driving off into the night.
When he was out of sight, you decided to head on over to your bed but before you could do so, you heard the mechanical sounds of drones.
Your eyes widened as you quickly looked back to see KDF’s drones heading in the direction Kenji went to. With a gasp, you hurriedly slammed the door open and ran out, forgetting about the identical watch you had with Kenji that was repeatedly beeping with an alert of a kaiju attack.
You ran as fast as you could, following the drones as you were sure that they were after Kenji. Suddenly, you heard familiar screams in the distance as the neighborhood awoke to a mundane scene of a kaiju attack.
You looked to your hand only to see an empty wrist. You groaned to yourself, of all the times you could forget it, why now?
Despite being unaware of what was happening or which kaiju was it this time, still you followed the drones. Upon turning the corner, you saw Kenji parking his motorcycle aside so he could transform.
However, this time, KDF came prepared. A squadron of heavily armed soldiers arrived, their weapons calibrated to disrupt his transformation sequence.
As the soldiers closed in on Kenji, one of them set up a cannon, aiming it directly at him. Realizing the gravity of the situation, you sprinted toward the scene, your heart pounding in your chest.
The targeting system locked onto Kenji's energy signature, and the barrel began to glow with a blue hue, signaling the impending shot. Just as the operator pulled the trigger, you threw yourself in front of Kenji.
The concentrated beam of energy hit you with full force, sending a searing pain through your body. You screamed as it disrupted your bio-energy field, causing immediate paralysis and intense agony. You collapsed to the ground, feeling your strength drain away.
The soldiers, momentarily stunned by your intervention, hesitated as Kenji caught you in his arms. "No, (y/n)!" Kenji's voice was filled with anguish as he held you close.
The effects of the cannon had taken their toll on you, but your selfless act had given Kenji the precious seconds he needed. He transformed into Ultraman with a flash of light, creating a barrier to protect you from further harm.
With the kaiju approaching the city, Ultraman's form loomed large, and the soldiers were forced to retreat, their weapons ineffective against his fully transformed state.
Although hesitant he had to make a heart-wrenching decision to choose between being your lover and being Ultraman.
He carried you as gently as he could. In the palm of his hand, your fragile body lay unconscious. He quickly ran back home where Mina awaited him.
Upon arriving, he carefully placed you in the bed Mina took out of the house. “Mina! Emergency analysis, please!” He begged. “Call my dad, do everything to save her! I’ll be back as soon as I can!”
With that, he dashed off to the scene of the kaiju attack. His mind was a mess as he fended it off as quickly as he could, even if it meant hurting it unintentionally, and even if it caused more infrastructural damage.
Ultraman’s heart pounded as he rushed home, the streets blurring past him in a haze of worry and exhaustion. As he reached the familiar door, he transformed back to his human form.
Kenji burst into the house. The scene before him made his heart ache even more. You lay unconscious on the couch, pale and still, with Mina and his father sitting beside you, their faces etched with concern.
Hayao looked up as his son entered. "Kenji," he said, his voice a mix of relief and sorrow. "You're back."
Kenji dropped to his knees beside you, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "What happened? How is she?" he asked, his voice breaking.
Mina spoke up. “KDF used a new weapon, something we haven't seen before,” she started. “It emits a high-frequency pulse that disrupts the transformation process. When (y/n) threw herself in front of you, she took the full brunt of the attack."
Hayao nodded solemnly. "It's designed to incapacitate Ultraman before he can fully transform,” he said. “But on a human... it's much more dangerous. It's a miracle she's still alive."
Kenji's hands trembled as he held yours, his eyes never leaving your face. "Is there anything we can do?” He asked, tears racing their way out of his eyes. “Anything at all?"
"We've done what we can for now," Mina said softly. "She needs rest and time to recover. We'll monitor her closely. But Kenji... it's serious. The weapon has caused significant internal damage."
Hayao placed a reassuring hand on Kenji’s shoulder. "You did what you had to do, son. You saved countless lives tonight,” he said. “But we need to be prepared for what comes next. The KDF won't stop now that they know you're Ultraman."
Kenji nodded, his resolve hardening. "I'll protect her. I'll protect all of us,” he said through small sobs. “But right now... I need her to wake up. I need to know she's okay.”
As the night wore on, Kenji stayed by your side, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement. He thought about all the times you had supported him, how you had insisted on helping despite the danger. The argument from earlier seemed trivial now, overshadowed by the reality of your sacrifice.
"Please wake up," Kenji murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry. I should've listened to you. I should've protected you better."
The room was filled with the soft hum of medical equipment and Kenji’s quiet sobs that refused to give up on the person he cared about the most.
As the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, Kenji felt a slight movement in your hand. His heart leaped, and he leaned closer, his eyes searching your face for any sign of awakening.
"(Y/n)?" he whispered, his voice trembling with hope. "Can you hear me?"
Your eyelids fluttered, and a faint groan escaped your lips. Slowly, you opened your eyes, blinking against the light. When you saw Kenji's worried face, a weak smile crossed your lips.
"Kenji..." you murmured, your voice barely audible. "You're okay..."
Kenji's eyes once again filled with tears as he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening, "Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks to you. You saved me, (y/n)."
You tried to sit up, but pain shot through your body, and you winced. “What... what happened?” You asked.
Mina quickly intervened, gently pushing you back down with mechanical hands that protruded out of her spherical body. "Don't try to move too much,” she said. “You were hit by a weapon KDF used. It was meant for Ultraman, but you took the hit instead."
Hayao added, "You were incredibly brave, (y/n). You saved Kenji's life."
You looked at Kenji, your eyes filled with concern. "I couldn't let them hurt you,” you said softly. “I had to do something."
Kenji leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "And I promise, I'll never let anything happen to you again,” he said, his tears falling down on your face.
The days that followed were a blur of pain, recovery, and quiet moments shared between you and Kenji. True to his word, he never left your side, his worry and guilt evident in every action he took to ensure your comfort and healing.
Each morning, you woke to the smell of freshly brewed tea and the sight of Kenji bustling around the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Despite his own exhaustion, he insisted on doing everything himself.
"Good morning," he greeted softly one morning, bringing a tray of food to your bedside. "How are you feeling today?"
You offered a weak smile, propping yourself up on the pillows. "A little better, I think,” you answered. “Thanks, Kenji."
He set the tray down carefully. "You need to eat,” he said. “You've got to get your strength back."
In the afternoons, when you felt strong enough, Kenji would help you sit up and move around. He'd guide you outside to the lawn, where the sun's warmth and the gentle breeze seemed to hasten your healing. He'd support you with a gentle but firm grip.
"I don't want you to overdo it," he'd say, worry etched on his brow. "Just take it slow."
As the days turned into weeks, your strength gradually returned. The pain lessened, and the color began to return to your cheeks.
The days of your recovery were not just about healing physically but also about rebuilding and strengthening the trust and love between you and Kenji.
You had faced danger and come out stronger, more united. With each passing day, you became more sure than ever that together, your love could overcome anything.
Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots
@eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan @reggies-eyeliner @buggs-1 @miffysoo @spencerrxids @stupidbutsmart @marimargirlies @mixvchelle @lannnu @lailuv21 @christiinee @abracarabbit @youngbananamilkshake @flutterfly365 @o-schist @brazilsho @arrozyfrijoles23 @finestflora @mmeerraa @mianbaobaoo @skyeliteratures @themourningfox @despacito-uwu16 @crimson-mage-02 @vinegarjello @btszn
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writingoddess1125 · 1 year ago
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Your Weird Relationship Milestones
Weird couple things that no one talks about that is a major milestone
Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Buggy, Mihawk x GNReader
Support on Ko-Fi ☕️
Luffy
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You and Luffy had known each other since you were children and had also been dating since you joined his crew as the Ship Barber.
Truthfully it had been a fun journey and everyday you two got closer and closer- Just in your guys own unique way.
Today was no excpetion- After doing some basic training till noon you had skipped breakfast and was starving to rushed to the kitchen.
Walking over you saw lunch had already been made and almost the whole crew was there eating, looking over Luffy's massive plate in question to see what it on the menu- Seeing Cutlet sandwiches served with shredded cabbage.. you didn't like the recent cabbage that much.
"You didn't like the cabbage right?" Luffy questioned as if reading your mind- Nodding as he held up one of his plates to you to taste the cabbage to see if you wanted it The crew staring at you two in now total shock as you munched on a strand of cabbage and took a small bite of his sandwich.
"Ehh- Sandeich is good- But no cabbage" You hummed and Luffy nodded as he went back to inhaling his own food. Everyone watching as you went to get a plate- excluding the cabbage.
It wasn't till way later when you were half asleep cuddled against Luffy that the thought came to you- Did Monkey D Luffy just share his plate with you?
Zoro
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It had been a normal morning- you waking up first to roll out of bed and start your morning routine, of course it starting in the bathroom.
Too zoned out to care since you and him shared a living space with a bathroom so you knew it could only be Zoro- As you brush your teeth you hear the sound of water and realize he was taking a piss, with you right there?
"What island are we going to today?" Zoro questioned, you trying to rack through your brain
"Errr- S'mi S'mi i'land I 'hink-" {Sumi Sumi Island I think} You say with the toothbrush still in your mouth- Zoro finishing and stepping to the sink.
You step to the side so he can wash his hands and he grabs the deodorant- like with all your products he seemed to use prefer yours so he puts yours on instead. You handing him his hair cream which he thanks quickly and smooth through his mossy locks-
"Want a cup or coffee? Normal fixings?" Zoro called out as he walked out of the bathroom.
"Mhm!" You hum out earning a grunt of approval and spit into the sink finally. Yawning again as you were now starting to wake up.
The realization of everything hitting you. Were you two that comforble with each other now!? It felt like some marry couple morning- your face heating up as you simmered on it..
Sanji
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Being on a ship was nice, but it did have some downfalls- One being the bath situation. For some reason there was only one bathtub in the whole ship- So you had to travel from a hot bath across the entire ship to get to the room you shared with Sanji- Freezing your ass off the entire way and wrapped in the thinnest towel.
Finally in the room you shed the napkin like towel and look for something warm to wear- already starting to shiver.
"Sanji! did we do laundry?" You called, looking to see you were out of all pants and underwear- Tsking as it was a bit too cold tonight to go full natural in bed.
"Uhh No we didnt- why?" He asked as he stepped back into the room and saw you still naked as day looking through clothes- staring for a bit before Grinning.
"I think what you're wearing now is a perfect outfit" He chimed, you rolling your eyes looking back at your gawking boyfriend.
"Yeah well this outfit I can catch a cold- Remember we are getting close to the north and it's going to be freezing tonight!" You reminded and Sanji nodded in understanding before a thought crossed his mind.
Sanji sighed at this as he went to your guys shared closet- Returning with sweats and shirt in hand.
"These are my favorite pair- BE good to them" He said calmly as he held out the very nice sleep sweats you'd seem him wear multiple times- fairly sure these were the ones Zeff shipped out. Smiling as you gently took it from his hands and kissed his cheek- knowing these were going to be the best sleeping pajamas ever.
"I promise I will"
Buggy
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Show business was never easy- It was a constant swirl of chaos. Especially on Buggy's ship. So it was nice to have some moments were you and Buggy could just relax, especially after a hectic day or shows and making money.
So here you both are, Showered, out of makeup and lounging on the couch in Bugs office.
You laid there with your legs across Buggy's lap as you two chatted, there were random times that you and Buggy would absolutely say nothing in terms of conversation but just wanted to hear the others voice. Buggys hands stroking your legs as he kept his eyes half closed.
"Your legs feel different?.." Buggy questioned, still running his hands over the exposed skin-
"I didn't shave them" He seemed to nod at this and finally look at your legs to indeed see they were indeed hairy still touching them-
"Eh still not as good as mine- It's like a damn blue carpet" He grumbled flexing his leg as if giving and example. However he noticed you hadn't replied and glanced- noticing your intense stare at him.
"(Y/N)?-"
Rolling up you sit on his lap facing him and look over his face, he looked at you confused as you did this- Watching how your eyes focused in something.
"Stay still.." You mumbled before touching his nose, he felt a soft pinch and then you pull back looking at your finger.
"You had a blackhead on your nose-" He say calmly and show it to him. He scrunched his face in disgust.
"Ew Thats fucking gross... See any others?" He questioned and you began to excavate his face and back of any blemishes still talking about nothing. Buggy's mind however running over the fact that for the first time in his life- he hadn't felt worried about his nose with someone..
Mihawk
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Mihawk is a cautious person- so he is always on his guard and prepared for the worse case scenarios. That I clues you in the first few years of your guys relationship- While he trust you there is always some wall built up to protect himself.. You understand and let him take his time-
You didn't even really notice since how living he was towards you, however as time went on he did relax around you more. Got more comforble with you around and It wasn't till one night after a relaxing date and time together that you both tucked in. Mihawk had always claimed to be a light sleeper, laying on his back perfectly posed like a vampire ready to rise at any moment- the slightest movement waking him so you learned to be still when he tried to sleep. Reading a book quietly since you weren't quite ready for bed, dozing off for a good 30 minutes before you felt a slight shift from Mihawk assuming he was still awake till-
Zzzz!!! SNORT Zzzzz!!
Loud deep Snores suddently rattling the bed like a damn earthquake!
Startling you, turning to see the man laying in the bed next to you as you see his face unattractivly shoved into the side of a pillow, his hair a fluffed mess and him on his side in a deep sleep. You'd never seen him like this before, you didn't know it was even possible as you heard another thunderous snore leave the man. It taking everything in your body to not giggle as you closed your book and dimmed the light on your side of the bed. Cuddling down next to him as another wash of snores left him.
Smiling as you realize this ment he finally felt comforble enough around you to deeply sleep- in a true REM sleep for the first time in probably years. It made your heart flutter and you giggled softly- Defiently a milestone you were proud of.
Even if it ment the snores.
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ast4tarion · 1 year ago
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hi!! hope you’re having a good day:)
i was wondering if you can write a smut where mike is a nerd in college and the popular girl needs to bring her grade up so he tutors her. she would always flirt with him and make him get all nervous. she repays him by giving him a blowjob and you can add anything else to the story if you want!! thank youu
ooooo i havent written anything like this, thank you for a new idea :D ty for the kind words too i hope everyone reading this day is a good one too <3 (god this is way longer then i meant for it to be)
cws; sub!mike, slight dom!reader, virginity taking, blowjob, gender neutral reader, a little messy
“Have you ever had sex with a girl before?”
The question you ask Mike is completely genuine but he stops writing in his tracks, his face visibly flushing red.
The two of you are studying for midterms (actually, more like Mike guiding you through the subjects) together in his dorm, books and papers strewn everywhere at his table.
“I—what?” He really wasn’t expecting you to ask that and he looks almost nervous.
“Have you?” you ask it like it’s the most casual question in the world, flipping your pencil around in your hand.
“Uh….no,” he looks very embarrassed, it’s cute on him. “I haven’t gotten close to anyone like that before, and no one was particularly interested in the guy hiding behind his engineering book.”
You were quite surprised to learn this, in your opinion he was quite the attractive guy.
“Would you be up for an offer then?” His eyes widened, and he let his pencil slide out of his grip completely.
“What kind of offer….?” He said it, but the implication after the topic of conversation was understood between the two of you, but he clearly didn’t believe it.
“Well I’d really like to do something nice for you in return for tutoring me, we’ve already talked about this but I really wish I could pay you but everything’s going to food and tuition right now and I couldn’t ever ask my parents so I was wondering if you’d let me make you feel good instead?” You said.
His entire face was visibly red now with blush, and his gaze dropped and avoided yours as he processed what you were saying. He seemed in total disbelief, his hands tapping the table which you knew was a nervous habit of his.
“I-um, but I-I’ve never done that with anyone? I wouldn’t wanna, um, somehow do it wrong.” He was incredibly sincere and it was quite endearing.
You leaned back in your seat, trying to catch his nervous eyes.
“I’m cool with that, I could even teach you if that would make you feel less nervous? Think of it as…….a tutoring session. Only if you want too though.” His hands found themselves, wringing and thumbing his palm. He was clearly deep in thought and given permission you wanted to wipe that stress from his face. It would be an honour to teach him, after all the exams and quizzes he’d helped you pass.
“Alright…I think I’d, uh, like that. When?” You smiled at his confirmation of consent, excitement and arousal already beginning to build up inside you. You stood up, walking around the desk and sitting on one of his thighs.
“We’ve been studying for a while now, I think this would be a good opportunity to take a break and learn something new.” You put your hands on his chest, your voice dropping in a suggestive way that earned a shiver out of him.
“O-Okay,” he gulped, finally gathering the courage to look at you in front of him. “What’s the first step?”
You leaned in to kiss his neck and he gasped loudly. “First the ground rules. One, if you decide it’s too much we can always stop, alright? Two, tell me if you’re going to cum. Three, listen to your body, Mikey, tell me what feels good.” You purred into his ear, trying to take things slow so he could adjust to them. He quickly nodded, and you starting leaving light kisses down his chest.
As much as you wanted to grind down on his thigh you had an objective: make him cum. You moved off his lap and he watched you the entire time with a mix of nervousness and curiosity in his eyes. You slid to the floor in between his legs as he was seated at his desk.
Your first step was massaging his thighs, getting closer and closer to his dick. Your hand settled over the fly of his jeans, palming the denim and smirking when you felt the bulge it held.
You began unzipping it, speaking as you worked. “First step is to relax, this parts all about you baby boy.” He felt the urge to whimper and aggressively bit it back.
Just the tiny amounts of friction and sultry words you provided had began to work him up. You pulled down his boxers enough for his cock to be freed, hardening at every touch.
He was fairly big, your fingertips just barely met around it when you gave it a couple experimental jerks. He made a little noise at this, and you smiled.
You spit in your hand, spreading the wetness across his length to make it easier. It was clear he was unuse to his own boner, his mouth agape and his hips beginning to shift in the chair.
You started by giving the tip a tiny kiss, followed by short little licks to the head. You flattened your tongue and swirled it all around the head, running your tongue over his sensitive slit.
This gained an immediate reaction, another little noise escaping his mouth followed by his hands gripping his own thighs. You were barely touching him and he was already panting at the sweet sensation.
You took it a little further, pumping the base and farther into your mouth. You were licking the underside of his dick, dragging hot wet stripes further and further down each time. You were halfway down his length, finally taking it all into your mouth and pushing it in until your lips reached your loose fist.
His pants were evolving into full blown moans, his hand white-knuckles gripping his desk. He spread his legs further, hoping to give you more access. Every moan is music to your ears, coming out in little “hnngs…” and “mmmfng…..”
The tip almost reached the back of your throat and there was spit dripping down your chin, mixing with whatever slick he was leaking. You moved forward and back, your tongue sliding wetly and stimulating him. You repeated this, grinding into the floor for any ounce of your own friction.
His cock was a wet mess, and the sounds coming from your mouth became more and more vulgar. Slick-filled wet slaps of skin on skin as your fist pumped faster and faster and your tongue swirled around his girth.
He was getting closer and you could tell because he was absolutely loosing control of himself. He’d been reduced to drawn-out moans and whimpering at how fast you were going; his hips had also started bucking forward, pushing more and more of it into your mouth until you were almost completely swallowing him.
Your own desperation made it even more wet and messy, you drew back and a long string of precum dripped from his tip to your tongue thinly connected. Your gaze was driving him crazy, the combination of your eyes locked on his and the slurping wet kiss you licked up his shaft again.
When your mouth dove back on it you could tell he was getting incredibly close to finishing. His thrusts were becoming sloppy and so pathetic that it was hitting the walls of your cheek and the very back of your throat.
It was ultimately your groan that sent him over the edge, the vibrations sent through your mouth felt all over his cock and it felt so good, so wet, so overwhelming that he barely had time to whimper “fuck, I-I’m going too—!”
His cock throbbed and pulsed as you licked his slit once more, taking it out of your mouth absolutely cockdrunk. It barely took a single pump for him to explode, thick white ropes bursting from his tip and all over your chest.
His head was thrown back and he was panting hard, his cock head was flushed a pretty pink like his blush and it kept twitching, smaller streams erupting until it came to a slow stop.
Your face was a mess of his hot cum and your underwear absolutely soaked through. His eyes were closed and he was still gasping, sighing as he slowly loosened his grip on the desk as he rode out the end of his orgasm.
“Fuck, holy shit, thank you.” He mumbled, still coming down from the adrenaline of finishing. When he did look down he swore he could’ve came a second time, the way your face was lit up by a smile and absolutely drenched in his sticky white seed.
“Of course, if I wanted to teach you about sex I had to make sure you’d at least get to cum before you made someone else do it,” You stood up, standing close to him and running your hand through his pretty brown hair.
“Tomorrow after we finish calculus, I’ll show you how to eat someone out~”
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lamiadrowned · 9 days ago
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hi queen! i love ur page and i have a request! could you do headcannons for vi with an extremely honest yet clueless reader, i feel like that’d be so funny like “jinx is no longer my sister” “uhhh yes she is??” anyway that’s it, thank you !! <33
*:・゚✧ vi with a (slightly) airheaded girlfriend
violet x fem!reader | sfw
this is a hilarious request ugh thank you anon
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first of all, she finds you so funny. especially when you aren’t trying to be.
it always leaves you stumped when you’re trying to actually correct her on something, and she just bursts out laughing like you told the funniest joke she’d ever heard.
the biggest arguments you’ve gotten into with her happen when you incorrectly correct her grammar or use of a phrase, but neither of you really have a good enough education to tell who’s right and who’s wrong, so most of your spats remain unresolved.
after all, two people who need to be right all the time are bound to bicker.
a lot of your ‘arguments’ don’t contain much bickering, though.
they’re mostly just a back-and-forth dialogue that devolves into mutual confusion and total disarray. as hardheaded as she can be, she’s also the first to admit that she doesn’t know as much as she might have thought.
you’re like her own personal fact checker! (but the facts have no backing and she just has to kind of choose whether or not to believe you).
“any updates on your sister?” you’d ask her after another long day of your respective work pertaining to jinx.
she’d spent most of the day scouring the streets of zaun for any sign of her, while you stayed in your apartment trying to piece together documents and records to track her down.
vi takes off her jacket and hangs it on the back of a chair at the dining table, which is covered in papers and blurry pictures. “as far as i’m concerned, she sure as hell isn’t my sister.”
“what?” your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “i mean, you have the same parents. how could she not be your sister?”
she immediately recognizes your tone, knowing she’d accidentally dug herself into a hole with one sentence. “i… i meant it more as a metaphor, i guess. that’s the word, right?”
you stare at her in complete silence, recalling her words and wondering if the metaphor had completely flown over your head. eventually, you shake your head and try to ignore the knowing smile on her face. “i don’t think you know what a metaphor is, hun.”
“hold on, what even is a metaphor, then?” she asks, now seeming to be just as confused as you, that smug grin now replaced with a look of total dubiety.
you lean against the dining table. “a metaphor would be comparing two things that aren’t related.”
“oh. well, there you go. me and jinx aren’t related. it is a metaphor.” she shrugs.
“you are related, though. same parents, remember?” you tilt your head. “something about biology and all that dna shit.”
she positions herself in front of you and cups your jawline with her calloused hands, tilting your head to look up at her. “it’s adorable and aggravating that you take everything so literally, you know that?”
for a moment, you totally forget what the conversation was about, given the fact that just looking into her eyes is enough to turn your brain to mush.
that is, until it finally clicks.
“oh! you’re using a figure of speech,” you wrap your arms around her shoulders, “which is not the same as a metaphor.”
then, she snaps her fingers and points at you with, smile beaming with success. “yeah! yeah, that’s it. a figure of speech. thanks, babe.”
she’s also quick to realize that you do the same to pretty much everyone else, so at the very least, she knows it isn’t targeted.
if anything, it’s free entertainment.
watching proudly as you squabble with a bartender about how a non-alcoholic drink should be called just that, rather than a teetotaler’s drink, because “90% of zaun’s population probably couldn’t pronounce that word, nonetheless know what it means,” simply because you happened to be one of the 90% who could not pronounce it nor define it.
also, she backs you up like her life depends on it, even if she didn’t hear half of the conversation, or generally have no idea what the conversation was about.
after any of your feuds with someone other than her, she’ll make a point to go up to them and respectfully throw down some corny defenses like “the misses is always right, capiche?” or “can’t really argue with that, huh?”
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omg i really really love your blog<3 you are such a sweet person and so kind to all your followers and others on here and your writing is absolutely amazing!
i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if you could write something for poe dameron? a hurt comfort because in your rules you said you wouldn't accept full angst which honestly is so real of you and i completely agree :D its just, ive read so many fics where poe's best friend or squadron member is either in love with him or fwb with him and he starts dating someone and they look rlly in love but then he leaves the person for the best friend and i cant help but always wonder how the person he left is feeling! and i was wondering if you could write something along the lines of this but he doesnt leave the reader and hes not really in love with his best friend or anything im so sorry this became really long but you can totally ignore this or say you cant do it its absolutely alright!<33
thank you sm though and i hope you have a good day!
Anon, thank you so much for such lovely and kind words! You are AMAZING! (Seriously, they have absolutely made my day/week/year!)
This ask has killed me (positive), my subconsciousness had a lot to say, it seems.
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Tangerine, Tangerine
Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Rating: M Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?
Warnings: angst (but with a happy ending), thoughts that a partner is cheating, blood, x-wing fight, swearing (not star wars swearing, because even though Kriff is great, I need to say fuck), Moonbeam as a nickname, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!
Word Count: 4494
_______________________________________
It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. 
You’d misunderstood, you’d read the situation wrong, you’d seen incorrectly. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. 
Your radio crackled, “Green Leader, checking in. We’re manoeuvring in 5. Call out.”
“Green Two check.”
“Green Three check.” 
 It was just a kiss. 
“Green Four check.” 
 It was just a-
“Green Five check.” 
Just a-
“Green Six check.” 
Just-
“Green Seven,” you swallow. “Check.” 
It wasn’t just a kiss. 
You patted your helmet twice and rolled your neck, breathing deeply as you settled in. On your left, you could see some of Blue Squadron. 
This mission was straightforward - on a holopad. 
Two teams to escort The Harbringer, the resistance supply ship. It had been damaged by a rogue blast from a tie fighter just as it jumped to hyperspace and had had to make an emergency landing on one of Tre’Ral’s desert moons. 
The crew on board had managed to fix all they could. But without proper materials, there was little chance of the ship making it out of the moon’s thick atmosphere and entering hyperspace. So Blue and Green Squadrons had been dispatched. Blue 1-4 had already made contact, jump-starting The Harbringer enough to get it airborne. 
Due to Tre’Ral’s sun and planet density, the gravity on the moons was a little stronger than most world’s atmospheric pressure. 
Green Leader, Sena, had repeated through briefing at how this would affect flying. How to be ready for it. And she hadn’t been wrong, it was different flying here. Tougher. And you loved it.
You’d grown up on Para, a planet with a high gravity density. You’d learnt to fly there well before you’d flown in space. Being here on this desolate moon almost felt like home. Your movements seemed smoother, precise. No longer needing to overcorrect for your naturally ingrained harsh movements. No longer spinning out and fighting low gravity, finally working with the tide. 
The manoeuvre would see the ships escort The Harbringer out of the moon’s atmosphere and then the rest of Blue squadron would form a sort of 3D star formation around the cargo ship. All jumping to hyperspace at the same time to carry it along with them. 
Simple. 
In theory. 
Everyone had spoken about how practically textbook it was, how easy. 
But then, of course, why was Green Squadron going? 
No one at the briefing had asked, why would they when the answer was so obvious. This part of the quadrant was teething with First Order. With a slow, busted supply ship you were all practically screaming for them to come and play target practice. 
You swallow. 
You should be focusing on that, on the mission. Instead of the utter nonsense that was ricocheting around your head and piercing your heart. 
I hadn’t just been a kiss. 
You and Poe had gotten together clumsily, three months ago, your normal awkwardness drowned out by so much Polanis Red that you almost couldn’t see straight. It had been after the battle of Hurthwen, a nasty dogfight that had everyone hyped up on adrenaline. 
He had been drunk when he kissed you, you remembered that. 
Maybe he had thought… maybe he had believed he was kissing her instead. 
It made a lot more sense. 
Sena was the Green Leader, she was a great pilot. One to be reckoned with. She was kind, she was fun, she was beautiful. She and Poe had joined the resistance together, risen the ranks together. Basically inseparable. Always laughing and joking. She had been in the same squad as Poe, under his command before she was promoted to leading one of her own. 
They had always been close. Always. Best friends. 
Sickness bubbled in your throat. 
You remembered Frizz and Hank talking offhandedly, well before you and Poe were a thing. Both of them sure that Sana and Poe were dating or ‘knocking boots’ as Frizz had so elegantly put it. 
“Two people can just be friends, you know.” You’d said, trying to hide your little crush on the commander. 
“Yeah,” Frizz laughed, “But not them. You seen them together?” 
Hank chortled. 
Nonsense. You’d brushed it off then. Allowed it to creep into your thoughts when it was dark and the base was quiet. When Poe’s breathing was soft and light behind you, his arm around your waist. 
Him and Sana just made a lot more sense than him and you. 
“Yeah, but not them. You seen them together?” 
Yeah. Now you had. 
The Harbringer came into view over the horizon. The seemingly endless stretch of desert was cut through in the distance by a fearsome outcrop of crocks, leading up into a field of formidable mountains. 
Blue 1-4 were already hooked up to the cargo ship, all five hoovering moving together as they flew towards you to meet. 
You wouldn’t have said things were difficult with you and Poe. Well, you wouldn’t have said that before. It was complicated for everyone on the base, most staff were on different call schedules, off-world or on a mission at all times. Having a relationship wasn’t straightforward. There were stretches where you wouldn’t even be on the same planet for days, but…
But you had thought it was…
It didn’t matter. 
You’d gone back to the briefing room, just before take off. You’d wanted to tap the main holoscreen twice, for luck. A little ritual you’d adopted early on. Most pilots were a superstitious bunch. 
That’s when you’d seen them. Sana and Poe. Locked in a tight embrace, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss. 
Your heartbeat had thundered so loud you’d been surprised they hadn’t heard it. But they’d been too preoccupied to notice your presence. 
It was cliche but time had almost slowed, calmed and stretched like the moment you take aim, the second before you fired your ship's canons. 
A flash of the control panel had flickered into your mind when you saw them, your fingers twitching as if you had the trigger in your hands. 
You’d turned and left without a sound. Without a word. Without letting them know you saw. Leaving them to… whatever they did next. 
Was it their first kiss? One of many? Had this been going on well before Poe had taken your hand and led you outside so he could clumsily name all the constellations, making up new ones and backstories to make you smile?
“That one here, you see it?” 
“Yeah?” 
“That one’s the best one, best in the sky. It’s orange and it’s right next to that other orange one, like they’re holding hands.”
You’d laughed. 
“That’s me and you Moonbeam.” 
Moonbeam. That stupid nickname. 
You’d gone to your room quickly, the one that you and Poe shared, and taken off the necklace he’d given you. 
“I want you to wear it for luck, Moonbeam.” 
That stupid smile he’d given you as he’d slipped it from his own neck and onto yours. That stupid kiss he’d given you after. You’d thought that expression was cute when you’d seen it, pure. Now it just seemed like he’d been laughing at you, playing some sick joke. ‘How long can I string someone along?’, ‘how far can I go before they realise it’s all pretend?’ 
You’d left the necklace with the ring slipped through on the small set of shelves in the corner, the one Poe normally kept his holopad on. 
It was idiotic, but your neck felt… empty without it. Cold. Every now and then you touched at where the chain normally lay.A subconscious action only brought to the forefront of your mind by the sensation of your own skin instead of metal. 
Something caught your eye in the distance, a flash of sunlight glinting off the horizon. Dread twisted in your stomach as realisation dawned a second earlier than your scanners. The extra gravitational pressure and high quantity of magnetic metals in the sand affected everyone’s ship computers, causing a brief information delay. 
Your alarm sounded out inside your ship, the radar blinking into life as tie fighters approached from the rock outcrop. They’d used the high mineral concentration to hide their energy signatures. 
“Fuck.” 
The radio screamed into life, orders out pouring over orders. Blue squadron rushed into position while Green scrambled. 
“Blue in place now!”
“It’s gonna be rushed, but we haven’t got a choice!”
“No time!” “Incoming!” “Green half split! Evens left, odds right, let’s keep those fighter’s off The Harbringer and Blue squadron! Gamma pattern!” 
“How far away is the Delta?” 
“Calling in attack pattern!” 
You swing to the right, falling in with Hank and Petal and bank hard, it takes less than a second for you to notice that your squad's movements aren’t as precise and well-timed as usual. The stronger gravity throwing everyone, except you, off their game. 
That didn’t bode well. 
You climb for a second, punching hard on the acceleration to get some height and a clear view of the oncoming and flick on your targeting system. The image glitches, doesn’t hold steady even as you focus. Off by half a fraction. 
Shots fire out from both sides, most missing.
“Targeting not working!”
“It’s out!”
“I can’t get a clear shot!” “The read is malfunctioning!”
“Half a click 4/8!” You shout, as you take your shot, hitting two tie fighters head-on. 
“Good shot Green 7!” You can hear the joy and relief in Sana’s voice. “Half a click 4/8, you’ll all have to manually adjust!” 
You dive, swirling around two fighters before skimming close to the ground, trying to draw their attention away from the cargo ship. You spin, slamming your control harder than you would need to in any other situation as you turn and spike past another fighter, taking out one in the process. 
“Wooooo!” Hank yells over the intercom.
You laugh. “Bet you never thought you wished you grew up on Para right?” 
“Every day new things surprise me.” He banks left, you right, Petal dives down. 
It’s too much of a rush, everything all at once, patterns and shots flying, your ship’s systems screaming as you push the engines a little too hard. 
The tie fighters aren’t moving as fast as they normally do, bogged down even more than the x wings by the gravity. They can’t make their normal quick turns and it’s affecting their strike patterns. 
Good. 
But there’s so, so many of them. 
Explosions fly debris out, and you climb higher. Needing a clear view and unable to rely on your targeting systems. 
More shots fly out, The Harbringer is taking a battering but so far its shielding is holding the hull together. 
The radio keeps screaming, overlapping voices that blur into background noise. You’re trained to only hear your call signal, direct messages. You vear off, narrowingly missing a blast to your wing. 
“-On my tail.” Frizz’s voice cuts through the noise, a sharp stab of dread slicing you open as you turn, automatically looking to the reader, it’s still not clear. 
You climb, twist, fall, see a Green ship, followed tightly by two fighters. Accelsorate, bank. You fire. You’re aiming in a panic now, not adjusting right, not breathing through. 
The shot hits one, before you have to swerve to avoid being struck head-on. 
“Thanks 7!” Cril yells over the speaker, managing to shake the other fighter. 
There’s a scream, a crackle of sound over the system. A sound you know too well. You see the ship crash into the desert, exploding before it even hits the ground as the a tie fighter’s shots hit home. 
Frizz.
“No…” 
“Check!” Sana yells, unable to tell who went down with the system glitching. “Green Leader!”
You swerve around another fighter, everything moving so fast, too fast.
“Green Two check!” Cril.
“Green Three check!” Petal. 
Nothing. 
“Green Four!” Sana yells. No call replies. Balna. Not Frizz. 
The momentary rush of relief at Frizz being alive is cut horribly short by the image of Balna’s kind face that bursts behind your eyes. 
You bank left, right, swerve, take aim, twist. 
There’s a chance, a good chance that you’ll win. All of Blue is in place, The Harbringer is moving up with them. The tie fighters are taking more hits than the resistance, their less aerodynamic design hampering them more than usual with this gravity. 
All you need is…
Another alarm. 
“Oh… fuck.” You slam on your intercom. “Z-Fighter!” 
A chorus of yells answer you. 
A Z-fighter, a quick moving ship a fraction bigger than The Harbringer, with two powerful front guns. A few shots would take the cargo ship out completely. 
And with how slow the supply ship was moving, that wouldn’t be hard. 
The Z-fighter storms in, moving fast but not firing, they were obviously having problems with their targeting too, needing a close clear shot. 
“Take out the main cannons!” Sana yells, the panic in her voice cutting through the chaos. You turn, aim, take out a tie fighter but have to veer up at the last second. Twist. 
Someone comes in after you, aiming for the cannons, a fighter clips their side and they can’t correct quick enough. They spiral off, their ship crashing into the Z-fighter. Obliterated on impact. The Z-fighter seemingly unaffected. 
You loop back, adrenaline blinding you to everything, anything that’s not the goal. Take out the canons. Take out the canons. People are counting on you. Take out the canons. 
You fire, a clear shot before you bank to the side to avoid a direct hit to your hull. 
It’s not enough.
You need to pass again, and again. Other x wings flying in, taking shots, the gravity making them slow, imprecise. Only one blast hits and it’s not full on.You’re the only one hitting directly and it’s not enough. 
It’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s not enough.
There’s shouting and screaming, the zipping of the fighters as they cut through the sky. Someone yells your name and you don’t hear it. 
Another hit lands. One canon out. Only one left. You can do this. The Harbringer is nearly in the upper atmosphere, they can jump from there. Just a few more seconds. You can do this.
“Black Leader!” Poe’s call sign cuts over the dim, followed by the call signs of half of the Red Squadron.
They must have scrambled after first contact. 
The canon’s powering up, a quick glance to your panel tells you that The Harbringer’s shield is barely functioning. They won’t survive a direct hit. With how close they are and the Blue Squadron ships that are attached there’s no way they wouldn’t be pulled down too if The Harbringer fell. 
The canon needs more than one hit to take it down, more than five. No way you can shoot five times before they fire. 
You twist, full force. Pumping the acceleration. Fire. Fire. Fire. Three hit. You don’t slow down. Fire. Fire. Fire. They hit. The canon is still operational. 
Sana is screaming orders, so many shots fire at the canon, none of them hit right, hit full on. 
Two chances left. 
One to fire. If it takes out the canon you just have enough time to serve up, to avoid getting smashed to bits. 
Poe shouts for you over the intercom. 
You don’t answer.
One to fire. If it doesn’t take out the canon then… then you crashing into it head on will. 
Poe yells again, this time cutting over everyone else, sending you a direct call. 
You don’t answer.
You fire. Hit. 
Poe screams for you, his voice painful and panicked. He’s already worked out your plan before you had even thought of it. 
The canon doesn’t go down. 
You cut the call to him. Blocking out his signal. You don’t want Poe to think you did this for him. 
You don’t want him to think you did this because of him.
“Green Seven!” Sana yells, seemingly knowing what you’re going to do. 
Hank screams your name over the radio. It hurts. You think it’s the worst sound you’ve ever heard. 
“Moonbeam!” Poe’s voice is ripped raw from yells, Sana has patched him through over her signal. You were wrong. That was the worst sound you’ve ever heard. 
You dip at the last second, not hitting the canon straight on but smashing your right wing into it. The force surprises you, even though you braced for it. The impact sending you spiralling. You try to regain control, try to turn into the spin. Training taking over even though you're a wing and half a ship down. 
Shouts over the radio, you barely make out- 
“-cannon’s down-”
“-Jump!-”
A spark hits, your console explodes into flame, shards hit your side and you yell. Sky and sand tumbling over each other over and over, and you manage to hit the eject button.
The force rips you upwards, free briefly from your burning ship. But you’re too close to the floor, not enough time to slow down your velocity. There’s-
.
The impact of the ground hurts. Pain explodes along every nerve despite the ejection seat dampening. You scream. 
Agony is everywhere, everything. You can’t feel anything else, can’t comprehend anything except floods of pain. 
You hit your belt, falling out and to the desert floor. Looking up just enough to gauge where you are, where your ship fell. It’s an exploded, fireball mess far off. At least it’s not an immediate threat. You crawl to the side and sob. 
There’s blood falling into the sand from your head, the right side of your face. You can’t see properly out of your eye and your left leg is definitely broken. Shattered. Still, you drag yourself forward, digging your hands in and pulling as something ribs and tears in your side, warm liquid soaking into your fight suit. 
The resistance will jump to hyperspace, they’ll get out. They’ll make it. 
You just needed to get away from your ejection seat, when the First Order doubles back they’ll see it, they’ll see you. You just needed to get to an outcrop. Hide. 
Make it look like you had a weapon. 
Make them shoot you first instead of taking you for questioning. 
Can’t let them take you alive. 
There's the faint sound of a ship somewhere above, landing gear coming down. 
For a second you freeze, panic gripping your heart, you dig into the sand hard, pull, pull, pull  yourself closer towards the outcrop of rocks. The air seems to be leaving your lungs, your breathing ragged and hot. 
You cough, red hitting the dirt, iron hitting your tongue. 
You crawl, pull. The pain is making you light-headed. You gasp, trying to get in a full lung full of air. It's not enough. It's not enough. It's not enou…
.
When you open your eyes your first thoughts are simple. Clear. 
I'm dead.
You were either shot in the head in the sand or simply succumbed to your wounds. 
But then things begin to feel… fuzzy. Not painful, but not right either.
And that's when you smell the Bacta. And then the light starts to change to distorted shapes, and finally, you recognise Hank sitting next to you.
“You better not be dead too,” you whisper your voice dry from lack of use. 
Hank jumps up, goes to grab your hand and then stops himself. There are tears in his eyes. He softly places his fingers on yours and you squeeze back. 
“You're a fucking idiot you know that?” He grins and you laugh. Which hurts a little, but feels good. 
“One sec,” he moves away just to speak to someone outside before he comes back. “I'm the one that picked you up, you know?” 
“Now who's the fucking idiot?” You smile but your chest aches, heavy with the weight of his words. “You shouldn't have done that.” You whisper. 
“What?”
“You were under fire, you should have just jumped-” 
“I saw you eject. Saw you moving. You think I was just gonna leave you there?” He sits. “Besides, I was closest. The commander would have blown up the whole planet to get to you.” 
You swallow, turning away slightly. Going cold at the mention of Poe. 
Hank mistakes the look for guilt, and squeezes your hand again. “Hey, look,” he smiles, “you took out the canons, you're a fucking idiot but you know how to fly in heavy gravity.” 
You snort. 
He smiles. 
“Who did we lose?” 
Hank sighs, “three…”
You nod, closing your eyes for a moment. 
“There-”
There was shouting from outside, a crash and then Poe stormed into the room, med staff close behind him.
You swallow, sickness building in your throat.
He looked awful, drawn out and worn thin like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. His eyes red. 
He rushes forward, Hank moves out of the way, so Poe can take your hand in his. He leans forward and kisses you softly, carefully stroking your cheek, being gentle with your bandages. 
“Moonbeam…” he mutters and you flinch back from him. He looks at you with sad, confused eyes. 
“Look, I can only allow one visitor in here.” The med staff member says.
Hank stands, and speaks when you frown. “I'll see you later, Poe’s the one that hasn't left your side. The only reason he wasn't here when you woke was because I made him go take a shower.” Hank smiled, “you can thank me for that later.” 
Both you and Poe are quiet as the others leave. Poe searching your face for something, while you look away. 
“Moonbeam,” he says again softly, but there's an edge to his words that you're not used to. “What the fuck happened on that mission? What the fuck is this?” He holds up his hand, his necklace and ring wrapped around his palm. His eyes are shiny as he speaks. “Were you trying to kill yourself? What the fu-”
“Poe,” you breathe. Best to get it over quickly. “I saw.”
He frowns. “Saw? Saw what?” 
“You and Sana, in the briefing room… before take off.” 
The small frown on his forehead relaxes slightly for a moment as his eyebrows raise. “You… saw?” 
You nod. 
“You, but, I didn’t see you when I pushed her away?” His voice cracks at the end, a splinter running into the muscle of your heart. 
“You pushed her away?” 
“You didn’t see that?” He frowns again, blinking hard, “you just, just saw and walked away and what? Took this off?” He holds up the necklace again. A tear falls from his eye and he rubs it away furiously as if it had scorched his skin. “Just, just left it and… and…” 
“I didn’t know you didn’t want it…” You say quietly, emotion is making your chest tight and constricted. “I didn’t know you didn’t want her…”
“What?” He breathes, moving closer and squeezing your hand. There’s disbelief in his voice, confusion. Anger, it’s deep down and controlled but it’s there. “No, look, she kissed me. I pushed her away, I, I even logged a report, I’ll pull up the god damned camera feed to show you.” 
He’s not lying. His gaze is unwavering and he’s got that painfully earnest look in his eyes. 
“You thought…” he shakes his head slightly, his voice pained, “you thought I’d-”
“You both make sense together.” You blurt out. “She’s… and you’re…” you shrug and sigh, on the verge of tears yourself. “You’re both the best of us.”
“No,” he shakes his head fiercely, “Moonbeam, no.” He wipes roughly at his eyes again, glancing down for a moment and you lightly touch his head. 
He looks up instantly as you stroke his curls, still lightly damp. 
“I’m sorry.” You whisper.
Poe shakes his head again, grabbing your hand and kissing your wrist. “I’m sorry.” He kicks off his shoes and clambers into bed next to you a little awkwardly. He’s trying to be careful, trying not to hurt you but needing closeness so badly it’s suffocating. 
You scooch to the side as quickly as you can in your current state and lean into him as he wraps his body around you softly and kisses you sweetly. 
“Love you, love you, love you,” he repeats after every kiss, pressing his lips to every part of your skin that he can reach.
“Why are you sorry?” You mutter as he holds you, “I’m the one that messed up.”
He shakes his head, “I’m sorry that I don’t make you realise how special you are, how perfect.” He kisses your cheek, “you’re the best of us Moonbeam.” 
You tut but his grip tightens and he holds you tight. 
“And one hell of a pilot.” He grins. 
You scoff. 
“You are.” He kisses you again. 
You nuzzle against him, settling into his touch. Knots have formed in your chest, pain that’s loosening. His warmth is comforting. Home. 
“Sana said she didn’t know I was in a relationship,” he says softly, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I don’t know if that’s true, but… I do believe her.” 
You nod. “She’s a good person.”
He moves so he can look you in the eyes. “Please, Moonbeam, I… don’t,” he bites his tongue, closing his eyes for a long second. “I want to tell you, I want to say, don’t ever do something like that again… don’t… don’t put yourself at risk.” 
You touch his cheek lightly. 
“But it’s not fair is it?” He smiles sadly. “We both do that every day… You know you were gonna be in my squadron at first?” 
You shake your head in surprise and he nods.
“You were, but… well,” he blushes ever so slightly. “I was so embarrassingly head over heels in love with you,” he laughs lightly. “For months I could hardly talk to you, you know I had to down five Polanis Red’s in a row after Hurthwen just so I could ask you out? I knew I wouldn’t be able to function right if you were in my squad. I knew that I’d put everyone else at risk because if it came down to it… if there was a choice between everyone in the squad dying, everyone on the base, or you… I’d let the resistance burn instead of lose you. Every single time.” 
You close your eyes, fighting the emotion that needs to break through and squeeze his hand like a lifeline. “I love you.” You whisper. 
Your fingertips brush against the necklace, the ring hooking around the first knuckle of your index finger by chance. 
Poe slowly moves his hand from yours and unwinds the necklace from his palm before carefully placing it over your head, giving you plenty of time to move away if you wanted. 
“I love you Moonbeam,” he mutters, his voice low, reverent. Then leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back with all your heart. 
____________________________________
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kookslastbutton · 6 months ago
Text
Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | chapter two
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✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?
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pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader
genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love
word count: 6.1k+
warnings: This chapter in particular is written from Yoongi's perspective, oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of body shaming by Hybe executive, bestie!tae is wonderful support 🥹, light fighting between members (literally crack), Namjoon has a little crush, Oc being a total boss at work bc she is amazing at her job, and cute & meaningful Yoon and OC interactions that make them finally start bonding (a little flirty too, hehe) 😉
now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets
a/n: CHAPTR TWO IS HERE! GOD...the slow burn exists outside the series too with me not updating for two months. I'm sorry guys but TYSM for your patience! I'm VERY excited to release this chapter bc I think Yoon & Oc are super cute, hehe. Okay anyway, this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!
Series Masterlist | next chapter >>
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Yoongi stands with his hands placed loosely on his hip, chest heaving as he attempts to catch his breath. The seven of them had been practicing choreography for their new RUN BTS song nonstop when Jimin called for a much-needed, fifteen-minute break. There’s a part of him that’s thanking the younger for it and another that’s wishing he hadn’t, as every moment left alone with his thoughts is spent decoding his last encounter with you at the cafeteria.
Why had you made such a beeline for the exit the moment he was waved over by his member?
You also completely ignored his attempts to greet you on your way out. He only stopped by the cafeteria to slip an orange in his pocket before returning to his studio. He didn’t mean to intrude or incite that you had to leave with his sudden presence.
Taehyung assured him that you merely left to tend to work matters, which he’d typically sum as hyper-fixation with one’s work as he’s prone to do the same, but this felt different at its core. Your behavior seemed more intentional than that. The last thing he wants to do is misread the whole situation, but he must’ve done or said something to cause your uneasiness.
“Hyung, how did the album meeting go this morning?” A clear voice comes from Yoongi's left as his fellow band member, Namjoon, strides next to him, water bottle clenched in his fist. Like himself, large droplets of sweat dots around the man’s brow. The minor interruption shakes Yoongi out of his slightly dazed state.
“Went well.” He takes a big swish of his own water before screwing the cap back on. “We reviewed everything in three hours and the album looks better than I anticipated. There are a couple of promotional strategies that still need finalizing, but I’m pretty confident about it overall.”
“That’s great, man. __-nim’s been doing good work with TXT for the last few years, so she’s definitely suited for the job. I thought about requesting her help to promote Indigo but the timing of it all didn’t work.” Namjoon’s voice drops an octave at the last part, as if remorseful for more than a missed professional opportunity.
“Ah, maybe your next album hyung,” Jimin suddenly chimes in, slapping the taller man on the shoulder from the side. “I have a feeling you and __-nim would work well together. Think about it, you’re both natural born leaders and you’re smart too. I bet __ -nim has as high of an IQ as you.”
Namjoon’s cheeks flush with the faintest tint of rose as Jimin flashes a knowingly cheeky grin. Yoongi, of course, witnesses the entire exchange, the slightest part of him feeling uprooted by the thought of his band member and new marketing manager suddenly hitting it off. He decides not to comment on the matter, choosing to remain in ignorance instead. This is all speculation, right?
Now that they’re all on the subject of his album though, it gets him thinking that maybe he’s been too narrow viewed regarding the reason for your off putting behavior at lunch.
D-Day’s release has become a consuming priority lately, with everyone involved worked to the bone. Aside from himself, you’ve been bearing the brunt of it. He’s appreciative of course, considering the album holds a deep sense of meaning to him, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it to be perfect. A little pushback during the first proposal is natural, yet he did get more resistant toward ideas during this morning’s meeting than anticipated. Perhaps some of his nitpicking was unnecessary, adding to your already heavy load.
Yoongi’s head feels worse the longer he entertains the possibility. He doesn’t want to make the first time working together a complete whirlwind, especially this early. A strong, healthy partnership starts with trust, safety, and mutual respect. The same philosophy can be applied to relationships of varying natures. That reminds him—since when did Taehyung and you become so close? He’s been ruminating over it all afternoon, like a jigsaw puzzle he can’t solve.
It’s odd how little he knows.
“I heard someone mention __-nim over here. I want in.” A small grumble leaves Yoongi’s lips as Jungkook pushes next to him, displeased by how tiny his space bubble has gotten due to the huddle his members have formed around him. Just why the hell is everyone so interested in his new marketing director? That's what he wants to know.
“Can you introduce me to her sometime hyung?" Jungkook pleads. "I’m thinking about releasing an album in the next year and it’d be great if you could hook us up…yknow?”
Oh, Yoongi knows. He knows exactly what this young buck is insinuating, but it isn’t mating season yet and even if it were he will do no such thing as to “hook them up”. Besides, his conscience tells him that you wouldn't be interested in the company of a younger man anyway—not that your dating life is any of his business or anything.
“Get in line Jungkookie, behind Namjoon. He needs her for his album first.” Jimin squeezes down on Namjoon’s muscular shoulders with both hands, shaking him just enough to hype him up. His hands are removed seconds later when he’s told to knock it off.
“That’s enough about this, okay? I’m pretty sure Yoongi-hyung is the only one who actually needs __-nim right now because, in case you dumbasses have forgotten, D-Day is set to release in April,” Namjoon scolds the two with a commanding tone. Jungkook, per usual, remains persistent in his original request and keeps his full attention on Yoongi.
“Anyway hyung, as I was saying, I know your album takes priority so I’m in no hurry to meet her. I can be pretty patient as you know-“
“Heh, that’s a lie.”
“Shove it Jimin, no one’s talking to you.” Jungkook’s eyebrows scrunch together as Jimin snorts helplessly next to Namjoon.
“You shove it Kook,” Jimin counters. “And stop trying to date __-nim! Find your own woman!”
“I’m not trying to date her! She's my noona for gods sake! Do you think I’m oblivious to how the public reacts to idols dating? Also, __-nim is a Hybe employee, not an idol. I can only imagine the type of scandal the media would spin it as.”
“Right, we all know you actually just want to take her to your bed instead,” Jimin interrupts for the umpteenth time. “Our handsome leader, on the other hand, is interested in her professional abilities. We can learn a lot from him.”
“Why are you always trying to start a fight with me Jimin? Is it because I can take you, now that I've been building up more muscle?” Jungkook’s accusations earn him nothing more than a sea of eye-rolls until Jimin lunges himself towards him, puffing out his chest the best he can to size him up.
Namjoon rubs his face with a hand, a clear visual display of his exhaustion. He’s been moderating these stupid squabbles for nine years now. “Alright very mature, biggest boy band in the world and this is what it’s come to? Amazing, congrats to everyone for winning the award for most-”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Seokjin interjects, effortlessly shouting over everyone while waving his hands. “My brothers…why are we fighting over here like a couple of peacocks? We are all beautiful in our own, individual ways. Mine, for example, is my handsome face.”
“For the love of god hyung, we’re trying to settle something. Go take your inspirational pep talk elsewhere!” Jungkook bends his knees, swooping down to throw Jimin over his shoulder but he misses when the man starts tickling him ruthlessly.
“St-ah-stop it Jimin!"
“You stop it, you frickin’ brat! Trying to take advantage of our hyungs for your own selfish gain.” Jimin then slaps Jungkook on the ass which does not go unappreciated as Hoseok cackles from the other side of the room. Up until this point, he’s been scrolling on his phone, completely unbothered by the chaos. As Hoseok nears the action, Jungkook delivers a swift kick to Jimin’s rear end.
“Ow, what the fuck Kook?!” Jimin tries soothing the sting by massaging it with his hands. “You little prick!”
“Oh come on, I barely hit you. Gaining sympathy points won’t help this time, plus I see you trying to hide a grin. You think this shit is funny. You’re sick you know that?”
Jimin makes a move to return the kick to his youngest member but ends up hitting a far taller, and leaner subject instead. Taehyung, who just returned from the bathroom, throws a hand over his abdomen and grunts from the sudden impact.
“What is—shit Jimin that really hurt!” Taehyung’s baritone voice echoes off the walls as he winces from the pain. He takes a few deep breaths, then viciously eyes the two brawlers followed by the rest of the room. “What the hell is going on? I heard you all talking about __-nim from the hallway. Yoongi-hyung here is trying to kick off his album and tour, which we are supposed to be celebrating over drinks this Friday, but here you are arguing with each other and who has the biggest dick. Well, you can all put it away because as __-nim’s best friend, and number one wingman, only I’m allowed to set her up with someone and it won’t be with any of you! Sorry hyung…” he looks at Namjoon who appears to have brushed the comment off.
As soon as Taehyung ceases his mini-speech, eery silence sets in. Hoseok is the first to dare say a word.
“Uh, so what’s this about being her best friend Tae?”
“Yeah, I had no idea either.” Jimin quirks his head to the side, awaiting the details.
“Same,” Namjoon adds in a short breath.
“What happened to us, man?” Jungkook pouts at Taehyung, a total 180 from moments ago when he was in an unsolicited sparring match with Jimin. “You used to share everything with me. Now you’re holding out on me. Since when did you and __-nim start hanging out?”
Yoongi’s ears perk up for the first time since all the commotion began, curious to hear Taehyung’s response. He only recently discovered the blossoming friendship hours ago and even then, it was a brief inside look.
“I didn’t think to mention it but yeah, we started talking since her first day at Hybe. I bumped into her on the way into work, early morning for both of us. I expected her to be a bit on the reserved side, considering she was a new hire, but she was quite friendly. The more we talked, the more I felt like I knew her as if a childhood best friend I’d reconnected with.” Pausing, he wets his lips before continuing. “We share a lot of our meals together now, like our lunches during the weekday. Her food tastes amazing by the way. I think she missed her calling as a chef but it’s more than food— it’s a love language, a labor of love.”
“Wow, you two sure are connected,” Hoseok speaks first again, seeing the rest of his members working to process the new bit of info.
“Platonically, yes.”
“This’ll be good for Yoongi-hyung and his album then! No bad blood exists here!” Hoseok shifts his gaze between Taehyung and Yoongi, pleased with the outcome. The older of the two remains speechless, yet it’s far from a dazed expression. Yoongi is instead deep in thought, the wheels turning in his head.
So maybe it’s true that birds of a feather flock together, he hums to himself. The two of you seem to be social butterflies with a vase full of commonalities. He, on the other hand, prefers his solitude. That’s not to say he’s a hermit or anything though. Hybe hosts a company-wide New Year’s Eve party every single year and he’s made his best effort to attend them all. He mainly mingles with his members, but he still makes sure to small talk with other coworkers. Come to think of it, did he even see you at last year’s New Year’s Eve party?
He can’t remember much from the night except Seokjin scolding him for not wishing him a happy birthday the minute the clock struck midnight. He was a bit tipsy at that point. Taehyung disappeared soon after to make his usual rounds, stopping to chat with everyone in his path. Maybe he took off to talk to you during that time.
Okay, he really needs to stop thinking about you.
"Just to confirm, is everyone still on for Friday night to celebrate D-Day?" Jimin pipes. "I booked us a good place to have some food and drinks.
Taehyung nods, "I am, as long as it's not the same place we saw our CFO and his much younger date feeding each other. I couldn't eat for the rest of that night."
Jungkook fakes a gag before replying. "I'm sorry but does anyone know how is he still working here? Guy creeps me out."
"I swear, I couldn't agree more. Just yesterday he made an egregiously body-shaming comment toward __-nim to someone else on the board. She kept a brave front when she told me, but I'm damn tempted to get him removed from his position myself!" Taehyung's nostrils flare as he shares his frustration, fingers digging into his hips.
Yoongi takes a final chug of his water before abruptly tossing the bottle on the floor. A sharp crack resounds through the space, instantly commanding the authority of the room. “Fifteen minutes is over,” he gruffs. “It might be twenty minutes with all the bickering earlier. We don't have time to be talking about this anymore.”
“Come on now," Hoseok says. "Didn't you hear what Taehyung said? Our CFO really is a class-A jerk. I feel so bad that __-nim has to put up with his bullshit, she doesn't deserve it." His eyes frantically search the room, hoping to rally support.
"Don't worry about that asshole," Yoongi assures, "I'll handle it." He strides over to his choreographed position on the dance floor as if a leader in his own right, the rest of the members following in his steps.
"Just don't kill him, hyung," Namjoon says, resting a hand on the older's shoulder from behind. Yoongi merely snorts lightly in reply.
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Yoongi is dead tired, his feet feeling heavier the minute he stands from his studio chair. He could have left hours ago, but here it is nearly 9:30 at night, and he's only just leaving the office.
As he shuffles down the hallway towards the elevator, he notices the eerie silence. It's thick, almost palpable. There's not a soul left in the building this late at night. When the elevator doors open, he leans casually against the metal rail, closes his eyes, and mentally retraces his day.
Overall, it was a decent day, he thinks, productive at best. Skipping dinner to work on his album tracks was an easy decision, but he might be paying for it now given the intense growling of his stomach. Despite his songs being considered perfect by his members, he can't help but tweak each one a final time. It's as if his gut tells him there's still a piece missing from the whole.
All at once, the elevator comes to a sudden stop. Yoongi's eyes shoot open, anticipation flooding his senses. Is someone still here? He listens intently, straining to hear any sound over the faint hum of the elevator. After a few moments that feel like an eternity, the elevator doors slide open to reveal an empty, dimly lit hallway. It's the 16th floor. He hesitates for a second, peering into the shadows, but there’s no sign of anyone. Strange.
Just as the elevator doors begin to close, Yoongi hears a distant, unmistakable voice. "Please hold the door!" you plead, your voice strained with urgency. He responds immediately, stretching out an arm to block the door. "Thank you so much," you say, slipping in beside him, your bag thrown over your shoulder.
Yoongi watches as you enter, curiosity in his eyes. It seems you were of like mind tonight, working late and likely burdened by the extra work he caused for you. The feeling of tension is as clear as it was yesterday, lingering as a reminder of the unspoken discomfort between you both.
But then again, there's that issue Taehyung mentioned, looming in his thoughts. He hadn't realized you overheard the horrendous comment his CFO made about you. No wonder you hurried away from him like a bat out of hell yesterday; you knew he knew. He wouldn't dare shine a light on the situation and risk embarrassing you further; no one needs to relive such a belittling experience. Yet, he's wrestling with the right words to say.
"Heading home, Min PD-nim?" You surprise him by speaking first, voice firm with a touch of gentleness.
Yoongi allows a faint smile to tug at the corners of his lips, hoping it'll relieve some tension. "I am, it's been quite a day. What about you?"
You nod, shifting the bag on your shoulder. "Same here. Just had to wrap up a few things before heading out."
He hesitates for a moment, noting how you speak as if it were only a few minutes past five or six in the evening. "I understand. I was working in my studio up until now. I should be back up there tomorrow too," he says, then chuckles lightly, "Sometimes I feel like I should just live up there."
You return the subtle laugh and smile softly at him, your light brown eyes catching his dark ones. It feels like the same prolonged gaze you shared upon first meeting, yet now, it's somehow become easier; perhaps a hint of familiarity.
"By the way," he continues, seizing the opportunity, "feel free to call me Yoongi-ssi. I'm not that formal in case you didn't know." He playfully gestures to his casual attire; tan cargo pants, grey plaid button-down, and sneakers.
You seem hesitant towards the request at first, evident from your delayed response. "Are you sure?" you choke. "I don't want to over step my boundaries."
"There's no need to worry about that," he assures. "We're on equal level aren't we? If we're going to be working side by side for the next eight months give or take, I want us to feel comfortable with each other. Please, call me Yoongi-ssi."
"Okay, I might need some time to get used to that," you say, head nodding, "I'll try calling you Yoongi-ssi from now on."
"There's one other thing too," he pauses, "since we'll be working on D-Day's promotion from start to finish, I'll have many of my own opinions. It's a natural instinct for me, but I don't want to be a hinderance. I don't want anyone else giving you issues either, so I'd like to hear your full thoughts on matters, especially when it comes to important decisions."
"That means a lot Yoongi-ssi, thank you. I'm very grateful that you'd allow me to be a part of this and I'd very much like us to have an equal partnership. This is your album though, so I want to make sure it gets the recognition it deserves in the way you'd prefer."
Yoongi glances at the floor numbers displayed to the right of the elevator doors. Any second now and you'll reach the lobby. He wouldn't mind talking longer, but letting you both get a decent night's sleep is the far better idea at this point.
"I trust that D-Day is in the right hands with you, __ssi," he replies. "It's why I recommended that we work together to promote it in the first place. Bang PD was also confident in the idea. We don't doubt your expertise for a second." He pauses when the elevator doors slide open and allows you to be the first to exit. "Have a good night, okay?"
For the first time, you reciprocate the wish with a full, illuminating smile. It's not a professional one, Yoongi notes, its a real one—as genuine and sincere as his words. He takes it as a sign that the tides may finally be turning for the better. "You too," he hears you say before you push through the large revolving doors and step into the cool night air.
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In the evenings that follow, Yoongi finds himself back in his studio as promised, a glass of whiskey in hand. He ultimately decided that if he was going to be here until all hours of the night, he might as well have a cold beverage to keep him company.
As he leans back in his chair, swirling the dark amber liquor in his glass, his mind inadvertently wanders to you. Were you downstairs again? Were you here with him? It would seem that given your unexpected late-night encounter in the elevator, the validity of the idea wouldn't be all that wild or far-fetched.
With each passing minute, as the clock inches closer to the late hours, he finds himself circling back to the same thought. It's as if the possibility of running into you has become a highlight of his night.
Just then, a deep and familiar voice interrupts. "Burning the midnight oil again, hyung?"
Startled, Yoongi looks up to see Taehyung standing in the doorway, a sympathetic smile on his face. Despite it being almost 9 at night, his younger member is nothing short of flawless in appearance.
"Yeah, working on my tracks," Yoongi replies, offering a small smile in return. "What are you doing here?"
Taehyung steps further into the room, hand tucked in his pocket. "I wanted to stay late to keep __-nim company, but I'm not sure how much longer she plans on staying tonight. I was on my way out when I figured I'd stop by to see you too."
"Well, thanks for thinking of me. Want a drink?" He offers, nodding towards the nearby whiskey bottle.
"No, thanks," Taehyung declines politely, shaking his head. "I'll let you enjoy your whiskey in peace. Although, __-nim might take you up on that same offer one of these days. She has a strong taste for it, as you do. Anyway, I'm heading out. Don't overdo it with your music, hyung, they're already perfect."
Once Taehyung leaves the studio, Yoongi's previous string of thoughts return to him tenfold.
So you really are here, he muses, and you happen to like the same throat-burning alcohol. Should he venture downstairs and offer a drink? No, that would probably be too much, and he wouldn't want to interrupt you. Maybe if Taehyung were accompanying him, but not alone; he doesn't share enough rapport with you to merit such a spontaneous drop-in yet.
No, he takes another sip of his whiskey, he'll see you tomorrow morning instead; during your morning meeting. But that gets him thinking—he's still yet to decide on whether or not he'll make an appearance on Fallon's show. He’d done it with his members numerous times, but this would be the first time doing it alone. His album would indeed benefit from the exposure, though.
"Damn it," he curses, raising from his seat. "I work my ass off. I work my ass off for it all!" He then sits back down, finishing off the rest of his whiskey in one gulp, the burn soothing his frustration momentarily. With a resigned sigh, he turns his attention back to his music. "Damn it, I guess I'll do it."
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If it weren't for his phone notification reminding him of his 10 am meeting on Friday, Yoongi would have missed it entirely. Normally, he never forgets important events, but several late nights in the studio had predictably caught up with him. He feels extremely sleep-deprived today, his memory more prone to blanking than usual. Waking up with a throbbing headache at 5 am, which hasn't dimmed in the slightest, doesn’t help either. Nonetheless, with only ten minutes to spare, Yoongi has no choice but to pull himself together and head downstairs to the conference room.
"Good morning, Min PD-nim," you greet him as he walks through the door. "We're about to start."
Yoongi drags out a chair and takes a seat. You look nice today, he notes quietly to himself. He makes sure to send a small smile your way before returning the warm greeting. "Good morning __-ssi," he says. "I told you we can speak informally didn't I?"
He waits for your response, easily tuning out the startled reactions from the rest of the team. Most high-ranking officials in the organization expected to be addressed formally by those in lower positions, but here he was, openly requesting you to speak as equals. It was almost unheard of during work hours. He was Min Yoongi, after all.
"Right, of course," you reply, "You'll have to excuse me, Yoongi-ssi. It slipped my mind for a moment."
Yoongi watches as you shuffle a few papers in your hand before continuing. "To get us started, I thought we'd discuss the decision to schedule a spot on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon. Will we be proceeding with this?"
"After mauling it over I think it's a good idea for the album. Do we have an idea of when this would happen?"
"Ideally after the album releases and around the time the U.S. tour begins April 26th. I say we aim for early May. Given Fallon's show's high demand, we'll need to get a jump on this as soon as we can." You shift your attention to your digital marketing and promotions team. "So-hyun, can you reach out to the producers and see what strings we can pull?"
She nods, scribbling a quick note on her writing pad. "We'll reach out today. I'll let you know as soon as we get a response."
"Excellent, thank you. I'm glad to hear you're on board with this Yoongi-ssi. It'll be a great way to promote D-Day and attract a global audience. The more smartly we utilize our resources, the better your album will be positioned in the current market." You take a brief pause to flip through your notes again. "Speaking of resources, we'll need to start booking magazine shoots and interviews. I'm proposing we run cover pages with Marie Claire Korea and Vogue Japan."
Yoongi would be taken aback by the flood of ideas and schedules you're firing at him, all within the first fifteen minutes, if he weren't already aware of your level of competency. This is exactly why he chose you, he hums to himself, your preparedness is impressive, but not surprising.
"I presume this will take place next year?" he asks. "During their spring issues?"
"Absolutely. We'll submit inquiries soon to get the ball rolling, but having the shoots completed now would be premature. Plus, it'll take some time before there are any openings with the companies. I think we should be consistent with tour dates and have Marie Claire go out in May and Vogue ready in August of next year."
"Okay, I'm fine with all that but we'll need to have something exciting released now, don't we? I know I start my weekly lives tonight, but shouldn't there be something more we can do?"
"I agree," you reply. "That's why I wanted to propose a brand new idea that came to me a couple of nights ago while I was drafting promotional content. Anytime idols release a new album or music, it gets published on YouTube, right?"
He nods, curious on where you're heading. "Right."
"Why don't we start a talk show with you as the host Yoongi-ssi? It can allow your fans to see another side of you, as well as the general public. We can invite your BTS members as guests where you can discuss music or past challenges that you've had to overcome—the choice is yours. To make it more interesting for viewers, you can have these frank conversations over a glass of whiskey or soju."
"I like the idea," he says, weighing it in his mind. "What would the timeline look like for this?"
"If we move forward with the idea, I suggest December 5th and we continue it for a max of two months. I know that only leaves us with just under two weeks to get started, but creating the set shouldn't take more an a day or a day and a half. We can also easily shoot a 30 to 60-minute video in an afternoon and publish it on YouTube the following week. Of course, a preview of the show will need to go out beforehand."
"Would we be able to invite other guests to the show? Outside of my members, I mean."
"Yes, feel free to invite whoever you'd like. We can start with the member for the first several episodes but ultimately, welcoming a variety of guests from the same or differing industries would be the goal."
"If I may." A member of the social media team suddenly joins the discussion, "I think Kim Namjoon-nim might be a good person to feature first since Indigo releases December 2nd."
Yoongi nods in agreement. "I can ask him."
"That would be fantastic, actually. If his availability is limited, we could have him guest star for the second or third episode instead," you add. "Hoseok released Jack in the Box this summer so we could have him be the first guest as well."
"Do we have a name yet?"
"Suchwita," you answer without hesitation. "It's a play on words with Daechwita."
"Suchwita..." Yoongi repeats, "Time to get drunk." He chuckles at the last few words, amusing the room, but you remain contemplative.
"How about Suchwita...time to drink with Suga, instead? It's simple and has a slight whimsical nature."
"Sure, let's use that," he answers, noticing that you've already begun jotting down the idea. "Yours is better."
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Despite the adrenaline from the productive meeting with you and your team, Yoongi still feels the weight of his sleepless nights bearing down on him. His headache remains relentless and he is in dire need of a moment to himself. Once the team disperses, he slips his phone into his pocket and makes his way outside. The crisp, early morning air should offer him some relief, along with the pack of cigarettes tucked in his pocket.
When he reaches the building's designated smoking area, Yoongi takes out a cigarette and lights it, taking a deep drag as he leans against the cool brick wall. As he exhales, watching the smoke dissipate into the clear sky, his thoughts drift back to the meeting. The idea of hosting a talk show, "Suchwita...time to drink with Suga," still lingers in his mind. It’s an intriguing concept, and he can already envision the relaxed, candid conversations that could come from it.
His thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching on the ground nearby.
"Oh, Yoongi-ssi," you say with alarm, obviously startled by his presence. "I didn't mean to interrupt you. I'll come back lat-"
"There's no need for that. Join me if you'd like." Yoongi watches as you hesitate to accept his offer, your feet already positioned to head back inside the building. "Seriously, there's plenty of room, and no matter what they'll tell you, I don't bite."
He allows himself to smirk as you carefully move beside him, only stopping when there is at least two feet of space between you both.
"Thanks," you say, pulling out your own pack of cigarettes and lighting one. "I needed a break too."
"Rough morning?"
"Just busy," you reply, leaning against the wall next to him. "But the meeting went well. We should be able to get the ball rolling now that we have a more finalized plan. I'm glad you liked the idea of starting Suchwita, by the way."
"I do," Yoongi says, nodding. "It has a lot of potential and I'm sure Namjoon will be more than happy to help us out. He's a natural at this kind of stuff. I guess it's why he's our band leader."
"You know you're good at all of this too, don't you, Yoongi-ssi?" You pause, taking a puff of your cigarette. "Even when you have a lot on your mind and a packed schedule, you have a knack for making people feel at ease. It's why I think producing Suchwita will be such a great way to connect with fans and other artists—you'll be the host."
He chuckles, appreciative of the remark. "You really think that? That I make people feel at ease? It's not what a lot of people assume."
"Nah," you reply, tilting your head up toward the clouds. "They're just on the outside looking in. Those who know you, who are around you and talk to you, will agree that you're a pretty calming presence."
"Well, I think we're not so different then." Yoongi shifts his eyes to your face, still looking up at the sky, and smiles softly. "So, what made you come to BigHit? Didn't you say you worked for Atlantic Records? That's a pretty good gig."
"Yeah, it was. I learned a lot there, and man, I was thrilled when I got offered the job as a brand manager. I've always loved music, ever since I was a kid. I could connect so intimately with the lyrics. Music is one of the few things that could soothe me during rough times, and it still does today. I'm sure you can understand."
Yoongi nods, intent on listening to your every word, intrigued by your story.
"Anyway, sorry about getting long-winded here" you chuckle. "I ultimately decided to move on when Bang PD reached out and offered me the marketing manager position for TXT. It gave me the chance to be a more integral part of bringing music to individuals who need it most. It's like we say, 'music for art and healing.' I'd never had the opportunity to manage a completely new set of musicians before either, let alone a group. Plus, being on the global marketing team? I couldn't turn it down."
"It makes sense why you joined us then, and I have to say, it's a blessing you did too. Music is a way of communication for me, a way I can best express my story. That includes my past, present, and hopefully future. After hearing all you shared, I don't think there's anyone else I'd trust with handling my album promos." Yoongi pauses a moment, unsure if he should ask the next thing on his mind. "How come we never met before? I mean really meet and talk?"
"Honestly, I'm not sure myself. But things have a way of falling into place when the time is right, I suppose." You're now looking at him, the intensity of your gaze mirrors his own. A gentle breeze tousles a few strands of your hair and for a split moment, Yoongi begins to understand what Taehyung meant earlier when he said it feels like he's known you his whole life, like a childhood friend he'd reconnected with. While it may not be to that extent for himself, there's a comforting warmth emanating from you that leaves him feeling strangely tranquil.
"Given the circumstances, I feel like we should have at least met through Taehyung by now," he slips out. "Or even at a company-sponsored event."
"Why, do you like me that much, Yoongi-ssi? After five days of working together?" Your playful tease catches him off guard, revealing a side of you he hadn't seen before. It's kind of cute-wait, what?
"I-"
"Sorry," you quickly interject, feeling the need to backtrack. "I shouldn't have said it like that."
"Don't worry, there's no need for apologies. And to answer your question, I like you enough." He hopes you can hear the tease in his own tone as he responds.
You both lapse into a comfortable silence for the next few minutes, the only sounds being the distant hum of traffic and the occasional chirp of a bird. He finds all of it soothing in a way he can't quite explain.
After a few minutes, you turn to him, your expression thoughtful. "You know, if you ever need to talk or just need a break, I'm here. We're teammates now."
Yoongi looks at you, his tired eyes softening with gratitude. "Thanks, __-ssi."
You give him a reassuring smile before pushing off the wall. "I'll let you finish your cigarette. See you later? And by later, I likely mean at 9 or 10 pm in our company elevator."
"Yeah, see you later," he laughs, watching as you walk back toward the building. He takes one last inhale, extinguishing the cigarette and letting the remaining smoke escape his lips slowly.
Yeah, he likes you just enough.
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a/n: Hope you enjoyed it! Lmk what you think 🥰
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justwinginglife · 4 months ago
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Hello! May I kindly request a one-shot where the third division has a betting pool about if freader and hoshina are dating (because they kept their relationship a secret, but are kinda obvious about it)?
And the way the others find out is because they either find them in the act or because they accidentally walk in on hoshina proposing to freader?
I love this prompt so much-thank you for fueling my brain with the delicious idea.
The Third Division was a rowdy bunch, though strong and disciplined on the battlefield, at home base they needed to find some manner of venting their chaotic energy. This week, the topic was you and the Vice Captain.
Kafka had made a drunken comment at the party last night that the reason you and Hoshina had both shown up late to dinner was because y'all were fucking somewhere in some back alley and that got people thinking about how you both always seemed to be missing at the same time and reappearing hours later together.
They recalled how you both had showed up to the rookie induction looking somewhat tousled, and you had even smoothed Hoshina's hair back into place for him when you thought no one was watching. What kind of officer dared touch their superior officer that familiarly? There had to be something going on.
And then there was that time when you got injured fighting a kaiju and Hoshina disappeared from his training, claiming he was just doing the rounds but his "rounds" consisted of pacing back and forth in front of the infirmary doors until he got word of your recovering state.
"I bet 20 bucks they're secretly dating." Iharu said grinning as he slapped the bill down on the center of the table. The other officers sitting at the table look around at each other, smirking and nudging one another.
"I'll take that bet. Those two have zero chemistry- you remember when Y/N beat Hoshina's short range combat record? He was pissed. They're rivals, I say. I bet he waited outside of that infirmary to rub her weakness in her face." Haruichi said, leaning back in his chair.
"No way- I bet he thought it was sexy that she beat his record. He was probably just hot and bothered when you thought he was pissed." Someone else chimed in.
"No but remember, she didn't go with Hoshina after that happened. She went up to Narumi instead. I bet she has a thing for Narumi."
"You idiot- didn't you hear her insulting him, saying she was going to kick his ass too? There's no way she'd be into him."
The officers begin arguing about different moments that they remember and who they think you'd be into. One person even suggests you're into Mina instead.
Ichikawa holds his hands up. "Guys, guys. We shouldn't be talking about this, this is private stuff."
The other officers stare at him, waiting for him to continue.
"...but if I had to guess, I'm with Iharu, she's totally dating the Vice Captain." He finishes, earning a couple chuckles around the table.
"Well, well. What do we have here? A little illicit betting ring in the cafeteria?"
All the officers still as the platoon leaders start to file in. They look intrigued and amused.
Someone coughs but then finally explains to them what they're all betting on.
The platoon leaders look at each other and then look around to make sure you and the Vice Captain are nowhere in sight. Then they start throwing money down on the table too. "We're team Y/N and Vice Captain." They whisper and then they walk over to sit at their own table, laughing and shoving at each other.
The officers are stunned at the wad of money that's now collected in front of them.
"Someone's got to figure this out." Iharu mumbles as he eyes the large stack.
"Allow me to answer for you." You say, stepping through the doors of the cafeteria and sweeping up the pile of money.
Everyone's eyes and mouths widen.
"P-Platoon Leader L/N." Ichikawa stutters. "What are you d-doing here?"
You raise an eyebrow. "Settling a bet, apparently." You hold up the bundle of money. Then you call over your shoulder, "What do you think Hoshina? Should we give them their answer?"
The Vice Captain emerges from behind you, causing all eyes to drop to the floor as they avoid his gaze.
He smirks at the sight as he nears them. "We're not dating. And it's none of your business anyway. 50 laps around the building for gossiping. That includes you too." He swings his head around to look at the table of platoon leaders that have been eavesdropping. They lower their heads in defeat and join the officers running out the door.
Then it's just you and Hoshina alone in the cafeteria. He laughs as you flip through all the bills in your hands.
"Told you that you shouldn't have fixed my hair in front of everyone." He teases as he leans down to kiss your cheek.
"And who was the one waiting for me outside the infirmary like an idiot?" You shoot back, pinching his cheek.
He rolls his eyes. "That Kafka has a big mouth. But he's right about one thing. I do wanna fuck you in some back alley, though I'll settle for right here."
He pulls you closer and starts making out with you when suddenly Captain Ashiro walks through the doors, causing you and him to freeze, mid-embrace.
She eyes you both up and down and then says with a smirk, "I'm telling all the officers they owe me money."
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