#this took longer than I thought it would I'm like an hour past my usual daily post time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kingkat12 · 3 months ago

Text

hickeys (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, mentions of sex, softcore-y smut, tw!bullying, Roman using his powers for no good, he's being so weird about virgin!reader, angsty fluff lol

summary: after having sacrificed your friendship with Letha for Roman's limited understanding of love and affection, you suddenly learn the consequences of your actions...

word count: 7,406 (you know me, not sorry anymore)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9

Roman had a hickey right on the side of his throat. Thankfully, I knew who gave him that one-- me.

It dawned on me that I had never seen him with one before. Despite how easy it was for me to get lost in the feelings of joy, finding a sense of pride at being the only one allowed to do that to him, I remembered Roman hadn't always been open to these sorts of things. He had warmed up to it gradually, with everything starting as a small incident at my place a week ago.

We had been splayed out on my bed, my face buried in his chest as I took a casual mid-day nap on top of him. It had become a habit-- Roman would come over, we'd bicker about something, then make out for about an hour until he decided to take his smoke break on my balcony. But today was different; the both of us had just finished a rather hard math test, so we were absolutely spent by the time we hit my bed. Roman didn't even have the energy to smoke, and seeing how tired he was, I decided to be bold and cuddle up to him; however, I hadn't expected us to fall asleep like this.

Weirdly enough, he didn't resist my advances. He'd usually start feeling uncomfortable as he wasn't used to affection like this, but today, Roman had his arms around me as I laid with my head on top of his chest. I had been a little embarrassed to wake up to the sight of a tiny puddle of my drool on his sweater, and I tapped the spot with my fingers as though that would make it go away.

Roman awoke, groggy. He let out a low grunt as he raised his head, trying to get a look at what I was doing. "Is that what I think it is?--"

"No," My words barely came out louder than a whisper, now covering the spot with my palm as I looked up at him with a soft smile. "Did you sleep well?"

Roman, being the stubborn asshole he was, didn't even register my question. "Did you drool on me?"

Oh God, this was mortifying. I figured he'd find out anyway; I slowly removed my hand from the spot, sliding off him. "Sorry..." As I rolled over, my back against the bed, I could only sigh. Being Roman's unofficial official girlfriend was hard, especially now that I didn't have any friends to discuss it with.

However, there were moments where the hardships were worth it. Moments like these ones, where Roman now flipped over and unexpectedly snuggled up to me, his face hiding in the crook of my neck. "I've never been drooled on like that before," he said, his words muffled in my hair. "This is my favourite sweater."

With wary movements, I brought one hand up to his brown locks, gently stroking through them. I wasn't sure what the next sound from Roman was, but the closest thing would be a purr. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, my other hand running up and down his broad back. "Want me to buy you a new one?"

Roman huffed; "Don't be stupid. I'll just leave it in the washer here if you don't mind,"

"The washer?" My hands froze, no longer ghosting over his skin with gentle touches. "It will dry up in a second, Roman, get yourself together. And even worse, I might get the urge to wear it if you leave it here." I immediately regretted that joke the second it slipped past my lips-- in hopes of brushing over it, scared he'd climb off me and go back to being his usual self, I resumed running my fingers through his hair and up his back.

To my surprise, Roman didn't react much. The only thing I could notice was a rather shaky breath against my neck, almost as though he had just had a really tempting thought. Eventually, he spoke; "It wouldn't fit you very well,"

I did my best to shrug, although that was hard to do with someone on top of me. "That's not the premise," I huffed. "People usually wear each others' stuff when they're into one another. It's a cute thing."

"... So you'd want me to leave my sweater here?" Roman eventually propped himself up on his elbows, meeting my gaze. "Why? It's not like you'd be able to wear it anywhere."

It was in moments like these that I realized how little Roman actually knew about girls. He was supposedly very good in bed, but with feelings and affection? He was like a very aggressive puppy with gorgeous fur-- some men you simply have to train to be soft. "I'd wear it at home," I said, reaching out to brush his messed up hair away from his green eyes. "Especially when it's stormy outside and I'm doing my homework."

Something about my words seemed to be leaving small cracks in Roman's shell-- had I not been so observant, I wouldn't have noticed the way his pupils dilated or the way his features softened as he looked at me. "Would it be a one-way thing?" he asked; was I imagining things, or did he sound shy? "You get my sweater, and I get..." Roman propped himself up further, taking a quick glance around my room. It didn't take long before his eyes landed on the plain, black hair ties on my nightstand, and he wasted no time reaching for two in one go. "I get these."

Seeing him so serious about this exchange was too funny-- I couldn't help the giggle building in my chest, suppressing a rather obnoxious laugh. "Yeah, I think that's smart," I murmured, stroking my thumb over his cheek. "Your hair is getting a little long... Would probably make your life easier."

Roman rolled his eyes, huffing. "It's not exactly like you have anything else lying around here!"

There was no way in hell I was about to tell him that my room was this clean because I had predicted he'd come over. "Okay, but it still works," I reached for his hand, taking the ties into my palm before rolling them over his fingers, watching as the rubber bands now sat comfortably at his wrist. "There you go!" I exclaimed, beaming up at a rather perplexed Roman. "Sweater, please."

It took a few seconds for him to react-- his eyes fixated on the black rubber ties around his wrist, and before I knew it, I saw slivers of pink appearing on his cheeks. I had never seen him react to anything like this before, and I had no idea why Roman was suddenly unmistakably blushing. "Fuck," he breathed. "That's cute."

To hide his blush, he quickly wried his sweater off his body, throwing it away on a chair nearby before burying his face in the crook of my neck again, putting his whole weight back on me. "Promise to use it for dirty stuff too," he grumbled, probably to save face, before pressing a kiss to my neck.

I was happy Roman didn't see how brightly I was smiling-- I would've been told off immediately, and he'd most likely retract right back into his shell. It was unusual for him to accept any sort of affection, and I wondered whether he had let anyone this close before. The more I got to know Roman, the more he was sleepy and babbling around me, I realized that I had to gradually ease physical kindness into his life to make our weird whatever-ship work.

The whatever-ship I had sacrificed everything for.

And I would've spiraled deeper into thoughts about it, but the sudden pressure I felt against my neck made me snap out of it-- I realized he was giving me a rather hefty hickey, a familiar tingling sensation coursing its way through my body. I let out a satisfied sigh, my fingers burying themselves deeper into Roman's hair as he moved elsewhere on my neck to make a second one. "These will go well with the sweater," he purred against my skin.

I held back a shiver-- The hate I had once felt for him had quickly turned into whatever this was. All I knew, was that it felt good enough to distract me from the guilt that kept gnawing at me after betraying Letha the way I did. ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next day at school actually marked a month since the last time Letha and I had spoken on the bleachers. A month of staring at her longingly from afar like a kicked puppy and asking our mutual friends how she was. It didn't take long before they all heard what had happened between Roman and I, and they suddenly became Letha's friends only.

I didn't know how lonely I would be after I chose Roman, and it was slowly breaking my heart. Being blacklisted by nearly all the girls at school was tough, to say the least.

So as I rummaged around my locker, getting ready for my next class, I didn't expect Letha to approach. There was no way I could imagine she'd do that, especially after the way she had been denying all my attempts of reconciliation. But here she was, blonde hair styled to perfection, and her green, stern eyes meeting mine the second I closed my locker door.

I stared right back, at a loss for words despite opening my mouth to speak.

Letha cleared her throat, pressing her books tightly against her chest. "It's been a month," she tried, something about her softening with the weight of her words. "I think I might be ready to... talk."

My heart jumped up like never before, immediately thrown into a feeling of ecstatic victory. "What?" I squeaked, unable to stop my beaming look of joy. "Are you serious?"

Letha shrugged, biting the inside of her cheek to suppress her smile. "I think it's time to try, at least?--" Her words came to a halt the second I turned to face her fully, and her green eyes immediately found my neck.

My hair had moved to behind my shoulders as I turned around, revealing the hickeys I had tried my best to cover with setting powder and foundation. It didn't take long before Letha's softening look became one of horror as she took a step back, clearly repulsed.

I immediately went into panic, piecing it together. "No, Letha, wait!--"

There was no stopping Letha before she turned on her heel, bolting down the corridor with heavy steps.

I turned back towards my locker, pressing my forehead against it. There was no way in hell I'd let everyone see me cry in public again. It felt as though Letha had dug her hand into my chest and ripped out my heart, now squeezing it until it finally popped. My breath hitched as I stepped away from the locker, sniffling as I felt a sob build.

Just as I was about to leave and get to class somehow, the familiar scent of cinnamon entered my system. "What did Letha want?" Roman asked, his hands tucked into his pockets as he approached. His brows were drawn together in a disapproving look as he watched Letha disappear down the hallway in unmatched hurry, and I got a good glance at him when I finally turned around to face him. How long had he been watching me from afar?

Roman's glare quickly faded away when his attention shifted and he noticed the way my eyes had glossed over. His whole tough look disappeared within a sliver of a second, and I was unsure whether he noticed it himself. "... Nothing good, I see?"

I shied away from his gaze, my eyes darting down to my shoes. "She wanted to make up all until she saw... well," To demonstrate, I turned a little, showing Roman the once blank canvas which was now covered in about six hickeys that I counted last night. It was clear to me that my attempt at hiding them had failed.

Roman could only sigh, an infuriating grin now spreading across his face. "I'm going to say sorry now, but know that I don't fully mean it because... the sight of you like this is so damn hot," He leaned down, pressing his lips against my forehead as he took my face into his hands. I couldn't help but notice that he was still wearing my two black rubber bands just as my breath hitched at the loving gesture.

Something about the kiss made my heart skip, but another part was ripping at me; Roman clearly cared more about the fact that he had marked me than how upset I was. I hummed in response, not knowing what else to say before much later; "Don't do that,"

"Do what?"

"Don't kiss me like that," I mumbled, pressing my back against my locker to make as much space between us as possible. "Just... Don't."

Roman's first reaction was on display with a stunned expression, up until his brows drew together in what I could only read as annoyance. "Fine," he said, teeth gritted. His hands fell down at his sides, trying to save face as he took a step away from me; "I'm just trying to make you feel a little better, it's not that fucking deep." In true Godfrey fashion, he also proceeded to storm down the hallway, clearly flustered after being shut down.

I had to take a long breath-- this was a lot to take in for one day. Roman being in denial about his feelings also didn't help much. I wanted to run after him, grab his hand and tell him that he could do absolutely whatever he wanted with me, that I'd love for him to kiss me like that once more, but I knew I couldn't.

It was hard to believe how badly I had fallen for a guy who could barely regulate his own feelings. Someone who insisted on making it apparent to everyone that I was his without actually wanting to put a name to it. I let out a sigh, watching Roman get further and further away. Something told me I maybe should've followed him, at least asked him whether he wanted to come to my place later and sleep next to each other, but my plans quickly fell apart when I witnessed the one thing I hated seeing most in the world.

In the midst of his angry storm-off, Roman managed to turn his head to allow for his eyes to follow a girl with an exceptionally short skirt passing him by.

I wanted to throw up-- the hungry look in his eyes made me nauseous. Everything about Roman looking at someone in the way he usually looked at me made me want to burst into tears all over again.

No matter what I felt for him, one thing would never change; I hated Roman Godfrey. I hated him and the way he made me feel like a stomped bug. Hated the way he'd look at me after he'd make me cum around his fingers, the way he'd stroke my hair away from my forehead with the gentlest touch as I fell asleep, and the way he'd insist on driving me everywhere just to spend some extra time together.

I hated him. I hated this feeling, and especially what it had done to me, my friendships, and my reputation.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

... Thoughts of my reputation went out the window now that Roman was back in my bed. Nothing suggestive, of course-- he was currently half asleep next to me. Even more heartwarming, was the fact that he still wore my two hair ties around his wrist, and I could get a proper look at him now that he was resting. I loved this feeling; we were both wearing the items we had exchanged.

"It looks good on you," he mumbled, tugging me closer with the arm he had around me. "My sweater. I thought I would hate seeing you in it, but it's not so bad."

My body was halfway on top of his, and I couldn't help but giggle as he pressed me closer to his chest. "Why did you think you'd hate it?" I adored the feeling of being completely engulfed in Roman-- the lingering scent of his perfume stuck to the gigantic sweater I was in, and his big arms around me made all my pain feel worth it.

All up until Roman hummed, eyes still closed as his hands raked through my hair; "You wearing my stuff makes it real... Like you're mine. I don't know whether I want that responsibility,"

I could only sigh, unsure whether I should let my heart sink just yet. Sometimes, it was best to dig around in Roman's mud of a brain before settling for the version he wanted me to believe. "So you would be okay if I was with someone else?"

Roman opened one eye, glancing down at me as he raised a brow. "Are you with someone else?"

"... No,"

"Would you want to be?"

What an odd question; one he didn't need to know the truth of. "Would you care if I did?"

Roman opened his second eye, now scouring my face to check for cracks in my facade. Something told me he wasn't buying it, but that he wasn't about to take any chances. Eventually, he scoffed, rolling his eyes before closing them again; "Fuck off,"

"Fuck off yourself," I mumbled, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I tried to dull out the fact that his arm automatically wrapped itself tighter around me before I spoke once more; "Answer the question."

"Why?" Roman shifted, pulling my whole body on top of his, letting out a satisfied sigh now that all of my weight was laid on him. "It's a stupid question. Why can't we just enjoy this moment?"

He had a point, sure-- I just didn't deem it enough. "I hope you remember that I have a lot on the line here," I placed my hands next to his head, pushing myself up to get a proper look at him. Roman eventually opened his big, green eyes, and they quickly rounded out as they met mine. Everything about looking into his eyes made me want to squeal and pepper him with kisses; this was dangerous territory. I knew had to pull myself together; "I have, like... zero friends because of this. Because I chose you. And you not wanting to take on that responsibility or whatever it was that you called it, makes me feel like crap. You make me feel like crap."

It was clear that Roman was holding his breath without thinking about it. He stared up at me, unsure what to say; "... All the time?"

"What?"

"Do I make you feel like crap all the time?"

That was certainly a way to spin it-- taken aback, I furrowed my brows as I pondered the question. "Not... all the time, no,"

Roman hummed; he seemed content with that answer. "I know you're upset about the whole Letha thing," he said, his big hands traveling down to grab at my hips as he shifted me to sit in his lap. "I also see that I'm not exactly helping the situation, but... you can't keep blaming me for your decision."

"... Okay," His request was simple enough-- I was ready to adhere to his wishes. "But then you have to say it out loud."

"Say what?"

"That you like me,"

I watched as Roman's eyes widened, his grip on my hips tightening. His whole body tensed up, unsure whether to speak or not. It was clear that he was conflicted about how to tread forward, and I held my breath the second his plush lips parted. Roman sat up, his back now supported by my headboard. Like this, I was sat in his lap with my arms draped around his neck, and he connected our foreheads with a sigh. Roman's words eventually came out like a slow, warm whisper; "I don't know what I feel,"

It felt as though my heart had lodged itself into my throat-- what? I was about to start arguing with him, cursing him out for dragging me through the mud for nothing, all until Roman suddenly reached for my hand. He placed my palm over his heart, his eyes finding mine as he steadied his breathing. "I don't know what I feel," he echoed. "But I know that looking at you makes my heart beat faster. Feel how hard it's going?" He pressed my hand further up against his chest, something about his touch giving away the sincere nature of this gesture. I hadn't seen Roman doing anything this romantic before, and everything was practically perfect all up until he opened his dumb teenage mouth; "I'm serious. It usually only beats like this when I look at pictures of Sydney Sweeney in a swimsuit."

That's it-- I groaned and ripped my hand out of his grip. "Okay, that's enough. You need to leave, it's almost midnight," In an attempt to climb off him, I almost made it out of his lap before his hands grabbed my hips once more, forcing me back down as I yelped. My eyes widened as they met Roman's, watching his signature smirk spread across his lips.

"Where do you think you're going in my sweater?" he purred, suppressing a chuckle. "My sweater, my rules. Give me a kiss before I leave, at least."

I huffed as I snaked my arms around his neck, feeling his hot breath against my lips. "And why should I kiss you?"

"Because you want to?" Roman didn't care to try to suppress his grin, gently nudging my nose with his as his grip on my waist tightened. His voice dropped, getting airy as he whispered against my lips; "You want to so bad."

Everything about him made the butterflies in my stomach flutter-- it didn't help that his hair was tousled in a classic heartbreaker look, along with how ridiculously soft his lips suddenly looked.

Roman definitely noticed the reddening of my cheeks, concluding why I had gone mute. "Don't be like that," he teased, not doing a good job with hiding his amusement. "Just kiss me first, for once. Have you noticed that you never initiate anything?"

I held my breath-- "I just... don't know what I'm doing," My confession was unexpected, but it felt nice to get it off my chest. "I don't want you to think I'm clueless."

"But you are?" Roman's chuckle was one of mischief as his hands shamelessly trailed down my body, now grabbing my ass as he pushed me closer to him. "It's not a bad thing. Just means I can program you to my liking."

I didn't even act as though I wanted his hands off of me, giving in to his antics. Something about the way he was holding me made me feel awfully warm-- maybe it was time to take off the sweater? "Tell me what you like, then," I purred, putting my hands on his chest. I figured that if I had gone down this route, I'd continue my path with conviction.

Roman's smirk only grew, letting out a breathy laugh against my lips as he gave my ass a firm squeeze. "That's my girl," he cooed. "We'll start simple." He nudged his nose against mine once more, his lips parting before his words came out in a hot whisper against mine; "Kiss me."

His words were too alluring to deny-- I leaned forward, my hands carefully laying against his broad shoulder as I kissed him. A sigh of satisfaction escaped Roman, who immediately dug his hands into the flesh of my behind to tug me closer. Everything about the way he was reacting to me reminded me of our first date, and the way he had held and kissed me in the alley when we were hiding from Letha.

The kiss was slow, almost lazy; something about the moonlight hitting us was making it more intense. It mostly consisted of small, loving pecks, and many pauses to simply smile against one another. I wondered whether he had ever kissed anyone like this before, with a softness I didn't see in him very often.

It was hard to believe that this was the same guy that had me running around scared for him to prick me with needles. The only thing pricking me right now was the hardening of Roman's cock beneath me. With every twitch, every time his hands dug into my hips in an attempt to grind me against him, I could only grin into the kiss. There wasn't exactly anything sexual about this kiss, but he would always get hard from the smallest little things-- I couldn't help but find pride in it. At least this was another confirmation that he wanted me.

Roman eventually grew frustrated, now trying to rut up against me just for any sort of friction. With that, I grabbed the headboard, raising myself with my knees so that he wouldn't succeed. As he groaned, I had to bite down on my growing smile; the look on his gorgeous face was too damn thrilling.

Roman's eyes were round, his chest sinking with a shaky exhale as a rosy flush lingered in his cheeks. "Anything," he breathed. "Just give me anything. I'll take it."

"Anything?" I wasn't quite sure what he was getting at; "What do you mean?"

His hands grabbed at my waist, signalizing that he wanted me to sit down on his arousal once more-- perhaps that felt like a relief in itself? Roman stared up at me through his brows, his fingers digging into my flesh. "I'm not asking you for sex. I'm being nice. So I'm saying I'll take anything you'll give me... Even the smallest thing," He leaned forward, pressing a wet kiss against my neck which had me losing my breath within seconds, now whispering against my skin; "Just touch me." Roman's needy kisses trailed up my neck, jaw, and cheeks until his breath was hot against my ear. "However you want. Don't be shy, try it out."

Something told me that Roman was secretly into me being a virgin, after all this time of making fun of me for it. However, I wasn't about to say no to the opportunity to explore with the Roman Godfrey, and I eventually sat back down on his arousal, my cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red at the sound of his muffled grunt.

My hands went up into his soft hair, pressing a kiss against his temple as my fingers stroked through his locks. "There's one thing I might want to try..."

Roman turned to nip at my jaw, his hands traveling back down to my ass. "Go for it,"

I didn't want to give him time to change his mind; my hand in his hair tightened, pulling him away from me with an unexpected roughness. I was about to apologize until I noticed the way Roman closed his eyes, and the way his lips parted in what looked like pleasure. It suddenly dawned on me that he might be the type to like a little pain, not only cause it. However, I wasn't ready to explore that at the moment-- I had another thought to attend to.

Roman's head lolled back against the headboard as I leaned down to kiss his neck, and it was clear to me that he was enjoying himself. It was only when his fingers dug themselves back into the flesh of my behind that I got the confidence to pull through with my original plan; I sucked down on a particular spot, hard enough to leave a mark.

I didn't need to see his face to know that Roman's eyes were wide open with the realization of what was happening. I was ready for him to push me away, tell me off, tell me to stop-- but his arms only wrapped around me, pulling me closer in a swift motion that had me grinding up against his hard cock, and Roman let out a sigh of pleasure as he let himself be marked with a blooming hickey.

Something told me I had to be somewhat special for him to allow me to do such a thing, and it quickly dawned on me that I had never felt this happy with anyone before, despite his shortcomings.

I liked Roman more than I had ever liked anyone before, and I had an inkling that he felt the same. Who knew something so simple could feel so incredibly good?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Knowing I had Roman wrapped around my finger, despite him not being able to properly say it out loud, had me floating around in my own little bubble. Everything concerning Letha suddenly felt irrelevant, and it wasn't taking up as much space in my mind as before. All I could think about was the way Roman had smiled at me as he passed me in the hall, the red hickey on the side of his neck peeking out past his shirt. The cherry on top of it were the two hair ties he still wore around his wrist-- he was enjoying this, wasn't he?

However, I was yanked back into the absolute shitshow I had caused for myself concerning my girlfriends later that same day.

My previous friends had never done anything more than glare at me from across the hall. Maybe the occasional overdramatic huff when they passed me, an extra eye-roll my way, and so I did my best to not pay it any mind.

Which is why I was so shocked when the proceeding followed.

It didn't bother me to sit alone at lunch-- not anymore, at least. I wasn't about to reach out to Roman to ask where he was and whether I could join him either; but just as I picked up my phone, ready put away my nerves and text him, my gaze was diverted from the screen and to the three girls that sat down in front of me.

I held my breath, my eyes widening with the realization that my previous best friends were staring at me with the nastiest looks I had probably ever seen.

Oh no.

Breathing deeply, I did my best to harden my gaze and keep my guard up. "What do you want, Jasmine?" I asked, putting my phone down on the table as I stared down the girl in the middle. Jasmine was the one I had liked the least in our friend group, and I wasn't surprised that she was the one to take action-- the rest of the girls always followed her like dogs, and it had always made me sick; especially now that they were sitting by her like docile animals.

Jasmine cleared her throat, leaning further over the table in an attempt to intimidate me; "We're just here to make you aware of something,"

"Which is...?"

Taken aback by my lack of reaction, Jasmine's eye twitched just slightly as the girls next to her grew more and more uncomfortable. "Letha told me what she saw on your neck. And sitting this close to you, I see it too... Do you not understand how it makes you look?"

There was no way for me to hold back my sarcasm; "How does it make me look? Do indulge, Jas," I couldn't even hold back my grimace at this point. "Why does it even matter to you?"

Jasmine's eye twitched once more, and she slammed her hands against the table with a loud thud. "What upsets Letha, upsets me! I'm just glad I found out what kind of person you truly are, and it brings me immense joy to realize everyone is starting to catch on to the truth as well!"

Despite how hard I attempted to stay neutral, unaffected, and unfazed, I couldn't do anything about the way my heart sunk. I couldn't even muster up anything to counter Jasmine's words, taken aback by the bluntness of my previous friend.

"Letha really wanted to reconcile, do you know that?" Jasmine continued, an evil snicker building in her throat. "But it's fucking disgusting that you walk around like you're proud to be fucking Roman Godfrey, especially when you know how much you've hurt her. Fucking traitor!"

Before I could protest, she reached for my phone which I had left unattended. There was barely any time to pry it out of Jasmine's hands before she stood up and smashed it into the table, the rest of her posse scurrying away from the table before the pieces of glass could hit them. I didn't have to look to know that the whole cafeteria was watching this scene play out; it was only when I heard gasps coming from around us that I truly realized the extent of what had happened.

As the glass from my phone had bounced off the table, the sharp pieces flying in every direction, I had covered my face with my hands. So, when I slowly pried them away from my eyes, turning them around to identify where the stinging of my skin was coming from, my eyes fell on the three pieces of glass lodged into the back of my hands. It wasn't too deep, not enough to scar or cause real damage, but damn-- it burned like crazy.

With tears in my eyes, I watched as Jasmine snickered, clearly unaffected by the fact that she had caused me physical harm; "We're ready to make your life a living hell," she hissed. "That'll show you. Fucking whore."

Something inside me broke. Usually, I would've fought back, I would've said something-- but I froze. Completely. I had never felt anything like this, the mix of both physical and mental pain turning me to stone.

Fuck. Was this truly how everyone saw me? Nothing more than one of Roman's countless whores?

I knew this would haunt me for the following weeks to come, and I couldn't fight the way my mind shut down. The need to get away overcame me; with shaky steps, I got up from my table, realizing I was about to leave school despite the day not being finished.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I had avoided Roman like the plague for the rest of the day-- I was almost as broken as my phone. I held the pieces in my hands under the dim lights of my desk in my room, nudging the glass around on the table. My phone had completely shattered, now just a heap of technology I held onto for the sake of nostalgia in a deep state of shock.

I kept glancing at my hands, my fingers ghosting over the three thin cuts that had parted my skin. They were thankfully not that grotesque to look at, and I was quite sure I could play it off as a scratch from a particularly large cat if anyone asked.

Or... so I hoped.

I wondered whether Letha knew about what had happened. Did she condone it? Had she been the one who ordered Jasmine and her gang to mess with me? Everything about this situation made my head spin-- Choosing Roman might've been the wrong decision. I kept thinking about an alternative universe in which I had never asked him to kiss me in the first place, or one where I had told Letha about my feelings for her cousin before it was too late.

It dawned on me that I had mostly likely made the wrong choice-- how was I supposed to deal with this?

Just as I was about to toss the remnants of my phone into the nearby bin, I heard a few knocks at my window which made me turn towards the sound. There he was, the last rays of today's sunlight making the bronze hues in his hair shine through; Roman tapped against the glass once more, eyes round with an emotion I couldn't piece together from afar.

I walked towards the window and opened it, leaning against the frame as I spoke; "What are you doing here?" My tone was sharper than expected-- seeing him didn't exactly make me feel any better.

"You haven't answered my messages," Roman didn't seem to be in a hurry about getting off my roof, making himself comfortable by sitting down by the window. "All day. Radio silence. I'm not really used to that from you, so... just checking to see whether you're having a stroke or something."

I did my best not to roll my eyes; "A stroke?"

"I don't know?" Roman shrugged, his green eyes never leaving mine. "What other explanation is there for a girl not answering me?"

I grimaced as I watched his expression. It was impossible to push down the intense feelings of frustration when I looked at him, all my love for him manifesting back to its usual hate-- I wouldn't have been in this situation if I hadn't met him. This was technically just as much his fault as mine.

Why did he look so confused? It suddenly hit me that he was being dead serious; he didn't get it at all. He genuinely couldn't find another reason for my absence. "Oh," was what I managed to say, clearing my throat as I sat down on the window sill. "Have you not heard?"

Roman blinked twice, clearly lost as he looked up at me. "Heard what?"

My eyes darted down to my hands, which I had covered with the sleeves of Roman's sweater without even thinking about it. "I thought everyone would be talking about it," I mumbled. "I guess that's a relief, then."

"What are you talking about?" The green of his eyes nearly swallowed me, and I found a tiny trace of genuine concern behind them, so miniscule I could barely notice it. "What happened?"

I wanted to disappear into a heap of nothing; it was so embarrassing that I had let this happen. My pride was definitely trying to choke the life out of me. "My phone broke," I breathed, automatically reaching for the hem of the sweatshirt out of nervous habit-- I felt my cheeks flush, nervous to be revisiting the moment that had haunted me all day.

Roman's brows furrowed, unsure how to react; "You made it sound like something really bad had happened. I could buy you a new one, no problem," He watched me pick at the sweatshirt, now reaching out for my hands to stop my destructive fidgeting.

I let out the breath I had been holding the second our fingers intertwined, feeling the roughness of his hands against mine. My eyes rested on the black hair ties he still wore around his wrist, a blooming warmth igniting in my chest and wading through all my anger. I was so swept up in the moment, comforted by the way he squeezed my hands twice, that I didn't catch the moment the sleeves of the sweater bunched up and revealed the cuts on the back of my hands. "You don't need to buy me a new phone, don't be ridiculous," I said, watching a single strand of his brown hair slowly fall over his eyes as he glanced down. "I'd feel bad--"

"What's this?" Roman's grip around my hands tightened, now bringing them up to his face.

It felt as though my breath had gotten lodged in my throat as I watched Roman's widening green eyes scan the surface of my hands. His brows drew together once more, thumbs swiping over the unhealed wounds. The touch made me hiss, attempting to get out of his grip, but to no avail. "It's the neighbour's cat," I tried. "I bent down to pet it, and--"

"This is not from a cat," Roman's gaze darted up to meet mine, suddenly a lot more intense than usual. "I'll ask you again, what happened?"

I tried to squirm out of his hold once more; "It's not important, Roman... Forget it, please. Actually, I'm going to have to ask you to leave--"

"Tell me,"

"No, seriously, drop it! Can't you just go?!--"

Roman's grip around my hands tightened further, almost to the point of making me wince. "Tell me," His pupils widened at an eerie rate, transfixed on mine. It felt as though his words were echoing through my head, and it didn't take long before I suddenly felt as though my inner monologue froze over.

And before I knew it, my mouth had a mind of its own; "They broke my phone,"

"Who?"

I really, really tried to fight it. Getting Roman involved in this drama was certainly not ideal, and I did my best to push away the urge to tell him; why was it so strong, all of a sudden? It almost felt as though he was controlling my mind, but it was ridiculous to even think so-- that was obviously impossible. Right?

I eventually got around to answering; "Jasmine,"

"... Who?" Roman was beginning to sound like a really confused owl.

"Jasmine," I echoed. "Letha's friend. She brought a few girls over to my table and smashed my phone. Called me a whore."

Roman was silent for a few seconds, his face going unnaturally blank. "These cuts are from your phone?"

"Yeah,"

"And she did it because you're with me?"

"... Yeah," Did he just insinuate that we were together? I held my breath, unsure why my mouth wasn't adhering to my orders-- I so desperately wanted to point it out, but I physically couldn't. What on earth was happening?

Roman hummed, his grip around my hands loosening. "What else did she say?"

I blinked several times in an attempt to get out of the trance-like state I found myself in, but nothing seemed to be working as long as Roman's gaze was locked on me. "She said she's gonna make my life a living hell," As I sniffled, I realized tears were pooling in my eyes. I squeezed them shut, shaking my head to try to snap out of it once more. "I- It's fine, though." It dawned on me that the trick was to not look at him-- I finally started feeling like myself again. "I just need to talk to Letha and check out the options for a truce, or whatever."

As I dared to open my eyes, I watched his blank face. Something about the lack of reaction was unsettling, on the border of uncomfortable, and it almost made me want to squirm. It was in this silence that a thick, red drop of blood suddenly made its way down Roman's nose, and he didn't react when it met his lips. It was almost as though he had frozen to his place on my roof, and I couldn't remember the last time he had blinked.

My eyes widened, concern filling my body. "You're bleeding," I breathed, trying to get my hands out of his. "Let me get something for you, Roman, it's gonna run down to your shirt!--"

Abruptly, he got up with a quickness I hadn't seen in him before, still not saying a word. Suddenly, I couldn't help but notice it-- the hickey on the right side of his throat. One he wasn't even trying to cover up. Despite how much Roman kept denying wanting to be with me, here he was, getting up to do God knows what whilst quite literally baring my mark on his skin.

I watched him, my brows drawing together in complete and utter confusion. "Roman?" Calling out his name didn't seem to do anything; he let the stream of blood run down his chin, now dripping down onto his shirt. I could only look up at him, unsure why he was acting like this.

Finally, Roman spoke; "Living hell, you say?" His voice was low, threatening-- it was suddenly clear to me that he had gotten a very dark idea.

These sorts of proclamations coming from a guy who had an affinity for pricking girls with needles genuinely concerned me. I got up from the window sill, ready to climb out onto the roof to join him. "Come on, Roman, let's just talk!--"

It was as though he was on auto-control, rushing to the edge of the roof before turning around to climb down. My heart beat hard in my chest as I nearly lunged out of my window, hoping to reach him in time. "Hey, where are you going?!"

I didn't make it-- Roman had already managed to land on the grass beneath him, his long limbs an apparent advantage, and he was now storming down my lawn towards his car.

"Roman!" I yelled, crouching down on the edge of my roof; this was definitely not looking good. My mind kept racing as I gave up trying to catch up to him, burying my face in my hands.

I was screwed. I was so screwed.

(a/n: check out PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9 if you haven't!! thank you for reading, more to come!!<33)

#roman godfrey #hemlock grove #roman godfrey x reader #x reader #bill skarsgård #fanfiction #oneshot #bill skarsgard #fanfic #angst #toxic relationship #ARGHHH THIS SERIES LMAOOOO ROMAN IS A MENACE

345 notes · View notes

edgeray · 5 months ago

Note

oh yes i meant when the reader is pregnant if u can, not in a nsfw way im sorry i made it unclear😭

Dragon Hunter Mother Part 4

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N -Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 It is once again dragon time, guys. I've written three dragon-related things straight 😩. The part you guys have been waiting for. Actual romance, hell yeah. Extra fluff for that one annoying moot (you know who you are 😡). It’s a bit short compared to the other parts for this series, but probably because there's no new lore dump. Guys, I’ve thought so far into this au, please feel free to ask questions about this AU outside of requests. I am dying to talk about random bits of lore I made up (such as Arle's backstory that I won't be able to write). Also this isn't the end. Because there is going to be a Part 5. What the fuck, guys /j. Hi anons!! Yes, you can be 🦊 anon and 👅anon. I'm sorry for how late this was first anon, I know I kept you for a while 😭. Also I'm sorrry for not being able to fulfil parts of your request because a) jealous arle wouldn't make sense given the worldbuilding, and b) i don't write nsfw of any kind. Sorry. I'm not going to include how exactly you're pregnant because it makes me uncomfortable writing it, so I'll just leave it up to your interpretation. Please don't let these discourage you from requesting from me :). I always try my best to satisfy every request as long as it's reasonable and within my rules. Content warnings / info - no warnings :), 1.8k words

Recovering from the infected wound didn't take long–in fact, it only took a week to be fully healthy, and the wound was healing nicely. Arlecchino was able to take care of everything while you were bedridden. You were surprised by how diligent and aware she seemed to be of taking care of you, especially as a dragon, but you didn't question it. She has had several decades of experience before you, you wouldn't be surprised if she picked up on a few things about humans.

It's been about four months since the dragon hunters incident, and you have yet had another situation like that. Venturing into the town you had previously been going to was no longer safe, and so you began frequenting another bordering village. It was a bit further away, but because it turned out to be a port town, it ended up providing you with a lot more food and resources you previously couldn't access; including: fresh fish, more meat and produce, and more clothes and fabric.

The trio have grown big enough to which you ride on top of one of them with no difficulty. They not only increased in size, but also their affection for you, crawling into your lap or climbing your back, or simply pouncing on any limb and holding onto you tightly. The same could be said for you, you no longer saw them as children, but your children. Arlecchino tells you that they refer to you as ‘Mother’ often.

Speaking of Arlecchino, she is no longer the standoffish dragon she was before the dragon hunters incident. On certain days, she can be just as clingy, if not more, than the children, although she would vehemently deny it with a scoff if you are to ever bring it up. Over time, she was less dragon, and more human to you, and with that, your attraction towards her continued to blossom. Your current relationship status with her is still strange, neither of you had ever labeled it on human standards, nor have the two of you ever ‘courted’ one another–in human or in draconic methods. Still, neither the two of you could miss the glances or the way you hold each other.

Lately, the past few weeks, she has been acting strange. She's been exiting the cave more often alone, leaving you with her children to tend to, not that you mind. She returns hours later, usually with some type of wild animal she caught for you: deer, the occasional bear or moose, sometimes even pigs. You often stand at the entrance of the cave, dumbfounded as she drags the dead creature by her teeth in her dragon form, while the hatchlings salivate. If it's not wild animals, it's usually an arrangement of different colored stones she found along the shores or in the river. You appreciate them, but you're no less puzzled by the intention with each gift.

You tried to wrack your brain of why she would be behaving like this, but you can’t come up with anything. It also seemed like with every gift you received, she became more and more… saddened? You weren't entirely sure for the reason, but you don't want to offend her by questioning her more. As the weeks pass by, and she disappears more and more, it seems like Arlecchino is… moping.

You have asked the children multiple times, but all they do is give you a pointed look before jerking their head towards their Father and letting out a rumble. When you approach Arlecchino, asking what was troubling her, all she does is shake her head, her subtle pout ever so slightly intensifying. Finally, having enough of Arlecchino staring blankly at her hands for hours straight, you finally come up to her, taking her clawed hands in yours and gaze into her eyes.

“Arlecchino. Tell me what's wrong,” you demand gently but firmly, kissing her knuckles.

The dragon stays silent, turning away from you, making your eye twitch.

“Please…” You plead.

Arlecchino seems hesitant to answer, opening her mouth before closing it several times. She contemplates something deeply, then lets out a steady exhale.

“I've been… making courting attempts towards you,” she quietly admits, her cheeks flushing the slightest amount. “But… it seems like you're unreceptive to it because you're human.”

Courting attempts? As if she was trying to establish a romantic relationship with you? No, it’s not courting as in ‘human courting.’ If it has to do with dragons, then perhaps it means–

“You… you want me as your mate?” You whisper out loud, your face undeniably warm at the realization, and your lips quirk up to the faintest smile.

The dragon nods timidly, so unbefitting for a strong beast like herself. She peers at you intently, searching and analyzing every twitch of your face to come up with her own answer. You let out a huff, raising your arms to cup the sides of her face in your palms. The cold texture of her skin will never be an unwelcome sensation.

“You could have told me instead of pouting like one of our children,” you chuckle, stepping closer to lean your forehead against her chest, feeling her thumping heart through it.

“I didn't know if you wanted to be since… you never responded to my attempts. I know that it's silly seeing that you're human, but I felt more and more discouraged…” Her voice is low and vulnerable, and it makes you want to do nothing more but hold her in your arms forever.

“You really still have so many things to learn about humans,” you giggle, pressing your lips against her nose. Fingers card through Arlecchino's silky locks, and you hum contently.

“What do you mean?”

You grin knowingly. “We like more direct expressions of our desires.”

You stand on your tiptoes before leaning in, warm lips gracing cold ones as you pull her towards you. Your arms lock around her neck, keeping the two of you against each other. Quickly, Arlecchino responds, pressing her mouth against yours fervently while her fangs prick your bottom lip. You groan into the kiss, and squeak when her hands slide down to your behind, lifting you up from your feet and wrapping your legs around her waist.

The two of you pull away, and there's almost a feral look in her eyes.

“There's somewhere I have to take you to,” she growls in your ear, and you can't deny that it makes your stomach coil, your loins burning.

“Okay…” You murmur, holding onto her tightly. She carries you with ease, walking out of the cave and following along the edge of the mountain's base. It takes only about ten minutes until you spot a small opening, another cavern. Arlecchino takes you inside, and your eyes widen at the sight.

It's a nest, a careful structure supported by stones as the foundation with the sides from branches and sliced tree trunks, before the top is covered in an assortment of blankets and pillows. However, it's smaller and cozier than the nest at home–as if it's made for humans. You carefully step into it, sitting down and finding it pleasantly comfortable.

“Arlecchino…” you gasp out with whispered awe.

“Yes…?”

“Where did you get the money for this?” You question, holding a heap of the numerous silk blankets in your arms, giving her a pointed look knowing damn well it wasn't your money.

The dragon brings a claw to her face and scratches nervously. “I had Lyney search the bodies of the dragon hunters for anything of value. They had quite a hefty sum,” Arlecchino confesses.

You sigh in relief, glad that no weaver or innocent person was harmed in getting this. “It's lovely. Is this what you've been leaving the cave for for so long?”

Arlecchino nods, her voice bashful. “It's… it's a mating nest, so that if it were to happen the children would not be there. I wanted to ask you here…”

The dragon walks inside the nest, before kneeling down before you, her clawed hands gingerly finding yours and holding them in her large palms. “Would you like to be my mate?”

“I thought my answer was obvious. Of course,” you answer, smiling. “But isn't mating season in another two months?”

She nods in response. “I wanted to prepare as early as possible. I wanted everything to be perfect.” ‘For you,’ she leaves out, but you know it's what she implies.

“It is perfect. Thank you… though I feel bad,” you murmur, your own face flustered by your embarrassment. “It took me this long to realize. I guess… I should make it up to you by courting you back, right?”

Arlecchino flushes, her face visibly reddening. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… you've courted me with how dragons usually do it. I will do the same, but with humans. Does that sound alright?” You offer, giving her the largest grin.

Arlecchino's face softens, leaning down and pressing her forehead against you. “Yeah… yeah, that sounds alright,” she murmurs against your lips.

—

Three months have passed by since then.

Safe to say, you’re pregnant.

Arlecchino’s attentiveness towards you had always been impressive, but it borders on extreme with how much she pampers you. Before the mating season, you've taught her all you can about human civilization and socialization so that in the instance you won't be able to travel to town yourself, she can instead. While you always have saved up a lot of money from your time as a dragon hunter, she likes to spend it on you unreservedly.

It would be endearing if it weren't the excessive amount of blankets in the nest, as if you weren't warm enough. Not to mention the amount of books she's gotten you. Since she doesn't exactly know how to navigate a bookstore, or how to differentiate between different genres of books, she’s gotten you dictionaries, children's book, erotica even. She was blissfully unaware why you read a page for a few seconds, shut the book immediately, took a deep breath before reopening the book, only to reshut it as well, repeating the same process. You didn't want her to get any… ideas.

Currently, Arlecchino was in her dragon form, nestled around you protectively from any gusts of wind that may pass through the cave entrance, her tail thumping against the floor softly. Her head rests besides you, her throat rumbling gratifyingly as you run your hand over her snout.

The trio are currently fighting over some of the beef jerky you mistakenly bought for them, unaware of the chaos it would ensue in the cave. They seem to forget that you can return to the town to buy them more… Ah well, hatchlings will be hatchlings.

You wonder how much more lively the cave will be with another one.

#arlecchino x you #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact fics #genshin fanfics #genshin fics #edgeray.writes #edgeray.requests #edgeray.🦊anon #edgeray.👅anon

227 notes · View notes

redroomreflections · 9 months ago

Text

II HANDS II HEAVEN 3

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

3/5 (even though we know it's more than likely this will be longer)

Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Reader reluctantly team up for a couples retreat mission. Despite initial resistance, they find themselves drawn together by unexpected circumstances and shared experiences.

Word Count: 3.8k words

Natasha's eyes fluttered open, her body drenched in a hot sweat. A dull ache pulsed through her left shoulder as she instinctively reached out to the headboard for support. Rubbing her shoulder, she squinted at the dim glow of the old alarm clock resting on the nightstand between the double beds. The numbers indicated it was just 11 pm—she hadn't been asleep for long.

As Natasha tried to shake off the grogginess of sleep, she realized something felt off. The hot sweat clinging to her skin and the soreness in her shoulder give her an uneasy feeling. She leaned over in bed, adjusting her eyes to the nightlight to see your covers were thrown back with no sight of you at all. Interesting. She figured you couldn’t have gone too far. You didn’t need a babysitter or someone watching over your shoulder. You’re a skilled spy just as she is. There was no need for her to worry.

With a sigh, Natasha swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up, running a hand through her damp hair. She knew she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep easily now, not with that nagging feeling gnawing at her mind. She decided to get up, maybe a glass of water or a short walk around the building would help clear her head.

But as she stood, her gaze fell on the window. Her curiosity got the best of her as she moved closer to the window. She noticed a small figure seated by the poolside, an unusual sight considering it was late at night and the pool area was closed. Squinting, Natasha observed an even smaller flicker of light coming from the person's lips—a cigarette. It’s you. How long had you been down there?

—-----------------

The peacefulness of the night enveloped you as you sat by the pool, the soft glow of the pool lights casting eerie shadows that distorted the shapes of the surroundings. With one hand propped on your knee, you idly kicked your toes into the water, feeling the gentle waves ripple beneath your feet. The pull of the cigarette between your lips offered a momentary calm as your mind wandered.

Thoughts swirled in your head—about the mission, about your time as an Avenger, about the mysterious meaning of life's purpose.

"Couldn't sleep?" Natasha's voice broke the silence as she approached, her footsteps barely audible except for the faint shuffle of her flip-flops against the damp concrete.

"Nah, I don't usually," You replied, exhaling a stream of smoke into the night air as you took another puff of the cigarette. Tilting your head back, you watched as the smoke dispersed in the wind.

"Did I wake you when I left?" You asked. You pressed the cigarette into the concrete before twirling it in your hands.

“No,” Natasha said.

"Good," You nodded, acknowledging Natasha's unspoken disapproval at the sight and smell of the cigarette. "Don't worry, I threw the pack away," you reassured her, hoping to alleviate any concerns she might have about your habits.

Natasha offered a small, understanding smile. "Thanks," she said softly, appreciating the gesture. Despite her reservations about the habit, she knew you were making an effort, and that meant a lot to her. At least she knew she could trust you to be professional about this mission.

“I’ve been on missions before,” You confessed quietly.

"I know," Natasha replied, her tone gentle yet firm. "But that doesn't mean it's easy every time. We all have our ways of coping."

“Why are you being so cool all of a sudden?” You turned to her with suspicious eyes. “Less than eight hours ago you practically hated my guts. You’ve barely even looked my way the past three months.”

Natasha sighed, her expression softening. "I know, and I'm sorry," she admitted, meeting your gaze with honesty. "Sometimes it takes a wake-up call to realize we need to set aside differences and support each other. We're a team, after all." She paused, searching for the right words. "I guess I just realized that life's too short for grudges, especially in our line of work."

“Grudges are what fuel me,” You shrugged. “I have a few people on my list that certainly deserve that.”

Natasha nodded, understanding the sentiment. "I get it," she replied.

Natasha settled herself beside you, maintaining a comfortable distance, yet close enough to feel the subtle ripples of the water as she dipped her feet in. There was a quiet understanding between you, as neither of you had anything left to say.

“My favorite position is cowgirl,” You suddenly said. “Not for me for the other person.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at the unexpected comment, her expression a mix of surprise and amusement. She chuckled softly before replying, "Well, that's certainly... a candid confession." She shook her head with a playful grin. "I'll remember that, though I'm not sure it's pertinent to our current situation."

“It is,” You glanced over at her. “We’ll probably be one of the only lesbian couples. Which means weird fetishizations and probing questions. Maybe even a game of truth or drink. Adults at resorts are unhinged.”

"You might have a point there," She conceded. “Give me the rundown on the dossier.”

You took a deep breath before launching into the details of the dossier. "Alright," you begin, "Shady Corners, as the name suggests, is a high-end resort nestled just outside of Miami in the Bay Harbor Islands. It’s owned by, Ilanka and Maxim Belinsky, it's known for catering to the elite, offering luxurious amenities and discreet services."

You leaned in closer, your voice lowering as you delved into the more clandestine aspects. "There’s a darker side to Shady Corners which is the entire reason for us. Rumors about the Belinskys' involvement in illicit activities, from money laundering to connections with underground cartels."

"Apparently," you continue, "guests have reported strange occurrences in the resort's secluded corners—mysterious meetings, people disappearing, and several break-ins, all hushed up by the Belinskys themselves. Couples keep checking in since it’s such a popular destination with a history behind it."

Natasha listened intently, her eyes narrowing as she took in the information. "Sounds like we've got our work cut out for us," she remarked.

“Indeed we do,” You sighed. “We should get some sleep.”

“I’m fine with staying here a little while longer.”

You nodded in understanding. "Alright," you replied.

Hour 12

A few short hours later, you found yourselves back on the road, with you taking the wheel this time. Natasha's unease was noticeable as you bobbed and weaved through the traffic, your driving style more assertive than she was used to. With each swift maneuver to pass SUVs and trailers, Natasha's grip tightened on the door handle, her knuckles turning white with tension.

You couldn't help but notice her discomfort, and though you tried to reassure her that you had everything under control, her nerves seemed to get the better of her.

“Do you understand speed limits?” She tersely asked as you stepped on the pedal a bit harder.

You glanced over at Natasha, noticing the edge in her tone as she asked about speed limits. Despite her brevity, you couldn't help but feel amusement at her concern. "Of course I do," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant as you stepped on the pedal a bit harder. "But sometimes, you just gotta keep up with the flow of traffic, you know?"

Natasha's grip on the door handle tightened even more, and she shot you a disapproving look. "That's not an excuse to break the law," she retorted, her voice filled with frustration. "We have to be responsible drivers, especially on long trips like this."

You rolled your eyes, feeling a bit annoyed by her lecturing. "Relax, Natasha," You said "We'll get there in one piece, I promise."

“I would like to live to see thirty,” Natasha commented, tightening her seatbelt around her midsection.

“No way you’re being truthful about your age right now,” You flicked on your indicator, laying on the horn for the driver in front of you as they moved at a turtle’s pace.

You could sense Natasha's annoyance as she defended her age, her frown deepening. "I'm twenty-nine," She stated firmly. "Do I need to show you a birth certificate to confirm that? What makes you think I'm older?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing on your lips. "Relax, Natasha," You teased. "I was just saying, you seem a bit uptight for someone your age. But hey, maybe that's just part of your charm."

Natasha rolled her eyes, unamused by your comment. "Gee, thanks," she muttered sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest. It was clear she wasn't in the mood for jokes. “I’m far from uptight.”

You furrowed your brow, considering her words for a moment. "Well, since you're so sure, let's take a little trip down memory lane, shall we?" you challenged.

"Remember when we missed that turnoff and you practically had a meltdown?" you began, counting off on your fingers. "Or how about when I accidentally spilled coffee on the map and you acted like it was the end of the world? It is crazy that we’re using a map anyway when there’s a perfectly good GPS right here on the dashboard. Unless you’re testing me. I thought you trusted that I was a good spy."

“Trust is a strong word,” Natasha shook her head. “What’s that training like anyway? Coming through a government agency.”

"It's... intense," You replied, your tone guarded as you skirted around the topic. "But it's nothing like the Red Room if that's what you're thinking."

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, not wanting to delve too deep into your past. The memories of your training were still fresh in your mind, and you preferred not to think about them. "Let's just say it involves a lot of rigorous training and a fair share of close calls," you added cryptically, hoping to steer the conversation away from your own experiences.

“A close enough call to have a four-inch scar on your back?” Natasha tilted her head.

You paused for a moment, caught off guard by Natasha's astute observation. "Well, you've got quite the eye for detail," you replied with a forced chuckle, trying to deflect her question. You shifted in your seat, a hint of discomfort creeping into your expression. "Unless you’re also ready to discuss the scars you have too?”

“Touche’,” Natasha sighed.

You raised an eyebrow, shifting the focus of the conversation with a swift change of topic. "So are you and Rogers a thing?" you asked, a sly grin spreading across your face. If there was going to be anyone in the hot seat, it needed to be her. It was about time you made the Black Widow uncomfortable.

Natasha's expression remained neutral. She paused for a moment, considering her response carefully before replying, "Steve and I have a professional relationship, nothing more."

You pressed on, determined to push her buttons. "Sure, sure," you teased, leaning in slightly. "But I've seen the way you two look at each other. There's definitely something more there."

Natasha's facade faltered for just a moment, a little bit of frustration crossing her features before she quickly regained her composure. "Believe what you want," she replied coolly, her tone leaving no room for further discussion on the matter.

“Come on, it’s okay to say you’ve tapped that,” You egged her on. “Stop being so prissy for a second. It’s unbecoming.”

Natasha's jaw tensed as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at your persistence. "I don't see how my personal life is any of your business," she replied sharply, her tone tinged with irritation. "And I certainly don't appreciate your crude insinuations."

You could sense her growing frustration, but you pressed on, determined to get a rise out of her. "Oh, come on, lighten up," you teased, leaning in closer. "It's not like anyone would blame you for going for the Captain. He's like the poster boy for good looks and heroism."

Natasha's gaze narrowed, her patience wearing thin. "I suggest you drop it before you say something you'll regret," she warned, her voice low and measured. It was clear she had reached her limit.

“Ohh, I’m shaking in my boots,” You rolled your eyes. “At first the pressure was on me. Be more like Natasha. Take notes from Natasha. Ask Natasha for help. We can't even hold a simple conversation.”

Natasha's jaw tightened at your sarcastic remark, her frustration is evident in her expression. "I never asked for you to be like me," she retorted, her tone clipped. "And if you're feeling pressured, that's on you, not me."

You could sense the tension between you escalating, and you knew you had hit a nerve. But instead of backing down, you continued to push, fueled by a mix of defiance and annoyance. "Oh, please," you scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Don't act like you haven't enjoyed being put on that pedestal. It's not like you haven't reveled in being everyone's golden girl."

Natasha's eyes flashed with annoyance, her patience wearing thin. "That's enough," she stated firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument. "I won't be dragged into your petty games. If you have a problem with me, say it to my face instead of hiding behind snide remarks."

“I don’t have a problem with you,” You began. “It’s the simple fact that you’re committed to this whole mean girl serious chick schtick. You’ve insulted me fifteen times this morning without holding your breath or thinking about it. I simply want to know what’s up. So I’m asking? Last night we were cool. This morning it’s giving me an entirely new personality.”

“So, to get back at me you imply that I’m sleeping with my teammate?”

The accusation hung in the air, heavy with tension, as Natasha processed your words.

"Implying? No," You retorted. "I merely observed a dynamic between teammates. If you took it as an insult, that's on you."

“I think you’re jealous,” Natasha commented.

Your response was swift, fueled by a mixture of frustration and defiance. "Jealous?" you echoed incredulously, a flash of indignation in your eyes. "Of what, exactly?" Natasha's comment caught you off guard, the accusation striking a nerve. "I'm not jealous," you countered, your voice tinged with irritation. "I just don't appreciate being undermined and belittled at every turn."

There was a tense silence between you, the air thick with unspoken tension. Natasha's expression remained impassive, but there was a glimmer of challenge in her eyes, daring you to continue the confrontation.

“Jealous of that fact that I was welcomed into the group based on merit and skills alone,” Natasha gloated. “I didn’t need my government daddy to put a word in for me.”

Natasha's words stung, hitting a nerve deep within you. You clenched your jaw, struggling to maintain your composure in the face of her taunting.

"Merit and skills alone, huh?" you replied through gritted teeth, your tone laced with bitterness. "Funny, considering the lengths you've gone to to prove yourself at every turn."

But you swallowed your pride, forcing yourself to remain calm despite the urge to lash out. With a tight-lipped smile, you met Natasha's gaze head-on, refusing to let her see how deeply her words had wounded you.

"Congratulations," You replied tersely, your voice cold and clipped. "I'm glad you're so proud of yourself. Now let's focus on the task at hand, shall we?"

The silence went on for a few seconds longer before you scrunched your nose.

“And government Daddy?” You frowned. “Who the hell do you think is my dad?”

Natasha's expression remained impassive, her gaze steady as she delivered her next words with a calculated calmness. "I don't know," she replied evenly, "but I wouldn't be surprised if it's someone like Ross."

The mention of Ross's name sent a chill down your spine, stirring up memories of past encounters and the uneasy alliance you had with him. Despite your best efforts to distance yourself from him, his shadow seemed to loom over you like a specter, a constant reminder of the ties that bound you to the government.

“Holy Fuck,” You clenched your fists, struggling to contain the anger bubbling within you. "Ross?" you scoffed, your tone dripping with disdain. "He's nothing but a manipulative bureaucrat with his own agenda. I have no ties to him, and I certainly don't need him to vouch for me."

“Why is his name riddled all over your file then?”

You felt a knot form in your stomach at Natasha's question, a sinking feeling settling in as you grappled with how much she knew about your past. "I... I don't know," you replied, your voice strained with uncertainty. "Maybe it's just... paperwork. I've had dealings with him in the past, but that doesn't mean he's my... my father."

Despite your attempt to brush off the implications, Natasha's piercing gaze bore into you, her scrutiny unrelenting. "You can't just dismiss it like that," she insisted, her tone firm. "There's a reason his name keeps popping up in your file."

You shook your head firmly, dispelling any notion of familial ties between you and Ross. "No, not because we're related," you asserted, your voice resolute. "I've made it clear before—I have no familial connection to Ross."

Natasha regarded you with a scrutinizing gaze, her expression unreadable. "Then why is his name so intertwined with your file?" she pressed, her tone insistent.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for Natasha's reaction to your explanation. "Spectra was deeply connected with the CIA," you began, your voice steady despite the lingering frustration. "Ross helped me out with some intel. Nothing more. Nothing less."

Natasha regarded you with a thoughtful expression, her gaze probing as she considered your words. "Is that all it was?" she asked, her tone cautious. "Or was it part of a larger plan to spy on the Avengers?"

You shook your head, the weight of Natasha's suspicion weighing heavily on you. "No," you replied firmly, meeting her gaze head-on. "I would never betray the team like that. Ross may have his own agenda, but I'm not a pawn in his game."

As Natasha continued to scrutinize you, a glimmer of realization crossed her features. "So what's the deal?" she asked, her voice softening slightly as she searched your eyes for the truth. "You're not exactly the type to strike up a deal with Ross without a good reason."

"It's complicated," You admitted. "But after Spectra's downfall, I was left vulnerable. Ross and Tony offered me protection, a way to defect from the shadows and start fresh."

Natasha's brow furrowed in understanding, though there was a hint of skepticism in her expression. "And what do they get out of it?" she pressed, her tone cautious.

You sighed heavily, knowing that Natasha wouldn't let up until she had all the answers. "Information," you confessed, the weight of your betrayal heavy on your conscience. "About Spectra.”

There was a moment of silence as Natasha processed your words, the gravity of your situation settling over you like a suffocating blanket.

“You’re an informant?” Natasha breathed. She knew it. She couldn’t believe this.

You nodded solemnly, meeting Natasha's gaze with a heavy heart. "Yes," you admitted, the weight of your confession hanging in the air like a dark cloud. "I'm an informant."

Natasha's breath caught in her throat, her disbelief palpable as she struggled to come to terms with the revelation. "I knew it," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Thank you, Kim Possible for knowing it all,” You rolled your eyes.

“Who’s Kim Possible?”

“And you’re still telling me you’re under thirty,” You mumbled. You rolled your eyes at Natasha's response, unable to resist a sarcastic retort

You couldn't help but chuckle at her bewilderment. "She's a fictional character from an old cartoon," you explained. "Always saving the day and solving mysteries. Thought you might appreciate the comparison."

“So, you gained immunity for your crimes then in exchange for information?” Natasha deduced.

“Something like that,” You shrugged. “I’m an Avenger though because of my skills. I could have gone into a witness protection program or something.”

There was a moment of silence as Natasha absorbed your words, the weight of your choices hanging heavily in the air between you. "I understand," she replied finally, her tone softening with understanding.

“Do you? Because it seems like you want to use my past against me every chance you get,” You eased up on the accelerator. “I was a teen when I became a pawn for Spectra. They weren’t the cleanest government agency. None of them are. You may have involuntarily joined the Red Room but it’s not like I had much of a choice either. I was a poor kid from Jersey with no money or family. I did what I had to do to survive.”

“I do understand,” Natasha nodded.

“Look can we make a deal,” You sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day. “Can we just be cordial? We don’t have to be friends. I’m not expecting us to have sleepovers and braid each other's hair. I would simply like to make this work so that we get what we need out of this mission.”

Natasha regarded you for a moment, her expression thoughtful as she considered your proposal. After a moment of silence, she nodded slowly. "Agreed," she replied, her voice firm. "Cordial it is."

You offered her a small nod of gratitude, relieved to have reached a truce, however tentative it may be. She reached into the backseat, grabbing something you couldn't see before you realized it was the magazine from yesterday.

“What is your favorite type of nonsexual physical intimacy and are you satisfied with the frequency you receive it?”

You blinked in surprise at Natasha's unexpected question, taken aback by its intimacy. For a moment, you were at a loss for words, unsure how to respond to such a personal inquiry.

Clearing your throat, you composed yourself before replying, "Um, well, I guess my favorite type of nonsexual physical intimacy would be... hugs? I suppose?" You offered a hesitant smile, feeling a bit awkward under Natasha's scrutinizing gaze. "I’m not really comfortable with a lot of physical touch. For personal reasons. And as for the frequency... I guess it's alright. I don't really think about it much."

Natasha nodded, her expression unreadable as she tucked the magazine back into its place. "Good to know," she remarked casually, as if she hadn't just asked you one of the most personal questions imaginable.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling a bit exposed by the exchange. But despite the awkwardness, you couldn't help but appreciate Natasha's attempt at breaking down the walls between you, even if it was in her own unconventional way. With a small nod of acknowledgment, you turned your attention back to the road ahead of you.

------> part 4

#natasha x you #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #black reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #what is this story #enemies to lovers #slow burn #angst #mutual pining #angst with a happy ending

233 notes · View notes

nina-ya · 8 months ago

Note

Oh my gosh Nina I LOVE your content!!! It's so detailed and lovely without being too wordy and long it's just amazing oh gosh~

If you don't have too many asks and if it's okay, can I ask for a scenario where it's post-war arc and reader is at his bedside holding his hand while he's recovering just waiting for him to finally wake up. And while he's laying there reader realizes that they love him more than a friend/captain. So when he wakes up they're crying on him and they admit how scared they were to lose him.

Even if you don't write it, thank you so much for all of the content you give us!! You should consider opening/sharing a Ko-fi, I would love to give back as a true thank you!!

Have a blessed night ❤

Waiting for Luffy to Wake Up

Pairing: Luffy x Reader CW: Marineford spoilers if you squint. None overall. WC: 1.2k A/N: AAAAA????? Im going to actually sob at your complement it means a lot to me and truly thank you for reading my silly little writings i'm glad if i can bring joy to even one person. I do have a ko-fi! you can find it here!

You’ve grown accustomed to the smell of heavy antiseptic that inhabited the room. The blinding LED lights had been dimmed, as they usually were when night fell, leaving the room shroud in darkness. The only sources of light were the faint glow seeping in from under the door and the dull gleam of the machines that surrounded his bed. Oh, those machines. The machines that whir and beep through all hours of the day to keep him alive. The heart monitor is one of the machines that you are grateful for, though it was a double-edged sword. It's a reminder that his heart still beats, but the constant beep...beep....beep is a sound that you have grown to dread the longer that you hear it– wishing so desperately that you could hear the sound of his laughter instead of this constant reminder that he has gone through something absolutely terrible.

You couldn’t tell how long you had been in that room by Luffy's side. You knew that at least some days had passed since the surgery, but exactly how long was unknown to you as time seemed to blur the longer you waited to see him open his eyes. The creaking and groaning of the submarine, the chatter that could be heard from the other side of the door, the voices of the people who come in and out of the room, all have seemed to just be muted to you. Your mind could not make room for anything else other than the man in front of you.

You felt a lump form in your throat at the sight of him. How could someone so full of life, so unyielding, be lying here so still? Every move he made all seemed so effortless, it seemed that nothing could bring him down. But now, seeing him like this, you just realized how fragile he could be, and it scared you.

You took hold of his hand, gripping it tight, as if by holding on, you could will him back to consciousness. You could see the rising and falling of his chest to indicate his breathing. You could see the line on the heart monitor rise and fall with each beat of his heart. Yet, you could not help yourself but to distrust the machines lean in, placing your head against his chest and listening for yourself to hear the faint sound of the badump… badump… badump… of his heart to make sure that there is still life in there.

You sighed in relief hearing that beautiful sound, and yet, other, worrying thoughts occupied you. What if he doesn’t wake up? What if he never opens his eyes again? What if you can never see that smile of his again? Your mind suddenly raced with the things you wish you had said, all the moments you had taken for granted. You leaned back, lifting your head from Luffy’s chest, but your grip on his hand remained tight.

The thoughts began spiraling, bringing forward past memories. You recalled the first time you met, how he greeted you with that infectious grin, the kind that made you believe that anything was possible. You knew he was special from that moment. You knew that you had to keep him close. And somewhere along the way, without you even realizing it, you knew that you thought of him more than and you just couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Now, as you sat beside him, the weight of him pressed heavily on your heart. Fear and guilt. The two emotions filled your heart. Fear for what the future might hold, for the possibility of losing him forever. Guilt, for not realizing sooner, for not being able to protect him.

You didn’t even realize you were shaking. Your fingers trembled against his, and tears blurred your vision as you fought to contain your emotions. With a shuddering breath, you dropped your head and watched as the tears dropped to the surface below you. You whispered words of encouragement, of hope, of love, though whether they were meant for him your yourself, you couldn’t be sure. “Luffy… please,” you croaked out, your voice cracking with sorrow. “You have to wake up. The crew needs you… I need you…”

You squeezed his hand tighter, lifting your head, allowing the tears to flow down your cheeks as you looked at him. His face was peaceful despite what he went through. And just for a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine a possible future with him if he were to wake up. A future where you could be honest with yourself and with him and could finally tell him how you felt.

You couldn’t hold back the tears. Your body shook with sobs that left you gasping for breath. You knew that you couldn’t live in a world without him, and the mere thought of it hurt like nothing else.

In your dazed state, you felt his hand twitch. At first, you dismissed it as wishful thinking, but then you heard a shift in his breathing. Your sobs stopped abruptly as you stared at him with baited breath, wondering if it was just your mind playing a sick and cruel trick. But then you saw it– his chest rose sharply as he gasped for breath, his eyes fluttering open. It was real.

“Lu…Luffy?” You asked, your voice barely audible. You could not dare believe your eyes. He turned his head towards you, the motion strained and clearly weakened by the toll his body had endured, but the motion was enough to send you flying into his arms. You hugged him as tightly as you could, despite the wires and machines in the way. “Oh my gosh! Y-you’re okay!” you exclaimed between sobs. “Don’t ever do that to me again! Fuck… you had me so scared,” you cried, slumping over him.

Luffy groaned in pain under the weight of your embrace, and you quickly backed off, apologizing for any discomfort you may have caused. “Sorry, sorry,” you stammered, reaching out to touch his face gently. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just…” You traced his face, tears still spilling from your own. “You scared me…”

He looked like he wanted to say something. He struggled, reaching to take off the oxygen mask that was over his mouth. His chest heaved as he took in the air without the help of the mask, something clearly on his mind. Not even discomfort seemed to be at the forefront of his emotions. His voice was raspy and faint, and his words were disjointed as he tried speaking. “Ace?” was all he could ask, confusion evident in his eyes. Your heart sank. You knew that question too well– it was a name that would soon carry a heavy burden for him.

Your confession to Luffy could wait. All those feelings you had just realized can be kept to yourself. Right now, he had more important matters to deal with, a grief that would require your complete and utter support. It wasn’t about you, it was about being there for him during this point in his life. So, you held back those words of love that were on the tip of your tongue. Those can wait. Right now, he just needed you to be there for him more than anything.

#Nina Responds~✦#Nina Writes~✦#one piece #one piece x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #straw hat luffy #monkey d luffy #one piece luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #luffy x reader #x reader

220 notes · View notes

emotionoitme · 1 year ago

Text

under the moon

carmy berzatto x reader

final part of about a girl

masterlist

warnings: drinking & drug use (marijuana), carmy being mean, clubbing, jealousy, so much dirty talk, bdsm dom/sub undertones, oral sex (f receiving), spanking, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, choking, lots of cursing as usual

wc: 9.2k

a/n: i am so excited for you all to read this. & sorry for the slight delay, it took me a bit longer than expected to finish! thank you so so much for your continued support on this series! i genuinely never thought people would like it so much🥺 enjoy!

foster the people - under the moon

she had begrudgingly awoken the following morning, head feeling as if it were stuffed with cotton, eyes swollen and sore. the bright morning light streams through her open blinds, soaking the room in warm sun. she groans, throwing the duvet over her completely, praying her bed would open up into a sinkhole and swallow her completely. she snakes her arm out, reaching around the nightstand for her phone, pulling it back in. she had overslept about an hour, meaning she would have to heavily compromise on her morning routine and practically sprint to work if she wanted to make it on time. she considered it shortly, but ultimately pulled up her contacts app on her phone, opting to call in sick. she scrolls, the first option being carmy. she wanted so badly to hear his voice, yet her stomach drops at the thought of him, so she quickly scrolls past the contact to find sydney’s number instead. the girl hesitates for a moment, before dialing, a point of deliberation deep within her. she wanted to be as far as away from the man as she could possibly be, the thought of his mere face bringing her a feeling of anguish. on the other hand, she wanted to bear witness to his demeanor— reassure herself that he’s as affected as she is over last night’s encounter.

he’s probably fine, she thinks to herself, lips twisted into a frown, he’s the one who didn’t want to keep it going. she tries to push the thought away, a hot pang of regret seeping through her body. she burrows deeper into the safety of her bed, tapping the icon next to syd’s contact, bringing the phone to her ear. the line rings, once, twice, three times, then a click.

“hello?” she hears at the other end.

“hey, syd,” she greets, groggily, “um, i'm sorry to do this to you guys, but i can’t come in today,” she explains, clarifying, “im sick, my stomach really hurts.” it was a white lie, told out of self preservation, knowing if she saw carmy’s face she surely would feel sick. she hears sydney take a breath.

“uhh, yeah, that’s fine. we should be fine,” she assures, continuing to ask, “are you still gonna come out with us tomorrow night?” syd pushes a piece of silverware neatly into place, finishing the last table as she watches her business partner come out from the kitchen, walking towards her.

“tomorrow night?” the girl questions, flipping her duvet off her head for oxygen.

sydney chides her name, “tomorrow night, tina’s birthday? drinks, dancing, i’ve been telling you about it since last thursday?” glancing at her coworker, curious about who she’s talking to. sydney mouths the girl’s name to him, carmen then gesturing to ask for the phone.

“yes, syd, thank you! i will be there. i’m sorry i’ve been so scattered this week,” she replies, sitting up out of bed.

“you’re fine, we can unwind tomorrow,” sydney replies, mouthing “okay, okay,” to the persistently gesturing man, “here, let me put you on with carmy,” she replies, going to hand the phone to the man.

“no!” the other line interrupts, more frantic than she meant to sound, met with silence. “i mean,” she tries to backtrack, “i don’t want him to worry about me. don’t put me on,” the girl stumbles out.

“welll, he’s saying that he wants to talk to you… so, i don’t really have much of a choice, okay, bye!” the chipper girl quickly tells her.

fuck, she mentally exclaims, i should’ve just gone in if i was gonna have to talk to him anyways.

she hears her name through the line, tone questioning, as carmy takes the phone from syd.

“hi,” she responds to his beckon, quietly.

“you’re calling in?” he asks, holding a finger up to syd, walking towards the back office for some privacy. she tightly closes her eyes, finding her words.

“i, uh, don’t feel good,” she responds, tone shakier than she had anticipated. the line goes silent for a minute, the girl mindlessly fiddling with a loose thread on her comforter.

“are you avoiding me?” comes his question, catching her slightly off guard.

“no, carmy” she quickly defends, “i don’t feel well.”

“what’s wrong?” he asks, taking a seat in his office chair.

“my, um,” she hesitates, “my stomach hurts.”

he’s not sure he believes her, leaning back in the chair and running a hand over his face.

“okay,” he concedes, letting out a sigh, “just, uh, take it easy today then.” he hears her hum in agreement, pausing before continuing.

“are you going to that club tomorrow?” carmy asks her, “for tina’s birthday?”

she dangles her legs over the edge of the bed, mindlessly kicking back and forth.

“are you?” she asks, eager to skip out on anything besides shutting herself safely inside and maybe putting her fingers to good use to prove carmen nonessential, the memories of his touch flooding her mind incessantly.

“i think i have to,” he responds, “i already told syd i would,” his eyes glancing back towards the open office door. she softly smiles, knowing she was in the same boat.

“okay,” standing and walking to her closet, looking for a club-suitable dress, “i’ll go too, then,” a small smirk in her tone. he can’t fight the smile that breaks his face, eyebrows raising slightly.

“carmy, my phone?” he hears from the hallway, a reminder of his surroundings, his time talking with the girl running short.

“yeah!” he yells back to the hallway, “hey, uh, feel better today, okay? i’ll see you tomorrow night,” carmy tells the girl, watching sydney walk into the office.

“thanks, carm. bye,” she responds, the call ending shortly thereafter. she had felt slightly guilty abandoning her shift, all for the purpose of not having to be tortured with his presence, a reminder of what had transpired the previous night. their casual encounters had quickly morphed into something else within her brain, feeling a deep sense of affection towards the man, chastising herself because she had worried about this and continued anyways.

she makes her way to the bathroom, splashing cold water over her face, the morning chill seeping through her bones. would it be so wrong for them to keep seeing each other? they were consenting adults—albeit boss and employee— both previously oblivious to the profound magnetism of their natural connection. she wanted to pursue things with him further, increasingly affected by his caring words and gestures, no longer being able to deny the twinge in her chest she gets when picturing his face.

but she knew he didn’t want the same.

why would he? she thought, it isn’t what he signed up for. he seemed focused on his work, like he would have limited time for a relationship.

she opted to get a few chores done around the house, taking advantage of the day off, sticking on the thought of him, though, finding herself looking through her closet for a dress with him in mind.

—

the space is hot, crowded, alive with movement. tickets pour from the printer one by one.

“it goes to four cousin, for the third time,” carmy scolds, “stop fucking with the tickets already,” hands busied with removing a large pot from the burner.

“hold on, i’m fixing them,” richie argues back, clutching a mess of paper.

carmy paces to the walk in refrigerator, grabbing a large container and making his way through the sea of bustling employees, checking on stations. he was running on fumes, only getting a solid three hours of sleep the previous night, plagued by a swarming head and uneasy stomach.

it’s best this way, he tells himself over again, easiest, hoping that if he repeats it enough times it will start to feel true.

“alright send these out to six, please,” he hears from the front of the kitchen, glancing over at the expo, seeing the recently plated entrees.

“fuck, richie, four!” carmen snaps, his hand flying out.

“jesus, alright, four!” richie yells, widening his eyes, shaking his head, continuing. “calm down, carm, she’ll be back thursday,” a snicker on his face

carmen freezes in his spot, skin beginning to burn. his eyes dart to richie, jaw twitching.

“shut the fuck up,” he bites, venom in his tone, trying to push himself further into his work to outlet the growing frustration. he hears the other man chuckle knowingly, glancing at carmen.

“okay, sore spot!” richie pokes, organizing the last few tickets, smile on his face. the chef doesn’t reply, beginning to quickly chop vegetables, unsure of what would slip off his tongue if he opened his mouth.

it was unclear to him why he was unable to regulate himself when it came to someone even mentioning her, figuring it was temporary, and would slowly dissipate once they had some distance from each other. carmy deeply exhales, glancing at the clock, counting down the hours until he would be able to see her again.

—

it was incredible how fast days would slip by when she didn’t have to go to the restaurant, taking care of domestic matters and recharging from the strenuous week so far, not thinking of carmen.

she goes to sleep that night wearing his clothes, arms wrapped around herself as if the sensation could ever come close to his touch, waking the next morning to eagerly check a phone empty of notifications. on her second day off she works on assignments for her classes, calls an old friend and grabs herself lunch from a bagel shop nearby. upon returning home she grabs a pair of earbuds and spends a few hours outside in the sunlight, mending the cracks in her heart, falling asleep on her balcony sofa and letting the sun kiss her better. the light of the afternoon seeps into the evening, painting the city in a soft yellow blanket, the girl slowly blinking awake. she watches a few cars drive by, a warm breeze shifting the trees, slowly sitting up and stretching, checking the time on her phone. she has a few hours to get ready before meeting everyone for drinks, her body relaxing at the confirmation. her eyes glance down past the time, seeing two new messages on her screen.

carmy: 416 s clark street

carmy: do you need a ride?

she unlocks her phone, staring at the gray bubbles for what seems like an eternity, fingers hovering over the keys. she begins to type a response, “no. gonna walk,” then quickly deletes it, knowing he would insist on driving her.

why is he trying to be so nice still?

she feels a twinge of irritation, quickly shutting off the phone, opting to not reply to his message. he was a hard man to understand, his actions contradicting his words more often than not—declaring the two finished, then continuing to pursue contact, referring to them as a “no strings” relationship and then calling her baby and sweetheart. it was confusing more than anything, beginning to take an emotional toll on the young woman. she felt incredibly tense the past few days, mind prickling with anxieties and insecurities, desperate to feel some type of release.

fuck him, she thinks, standing and opening her sliding glass door, going inside, i’m gonna forget about it tonight. she stalks to her closet, i’m gonna find a hot stranger and just dance, pulling out a short, skin tight club dress and holding it in front of herself, facing the mirror. she wanted him out of mind completely, settling with trying to replace his touch with someone else’s tonight no matter how much her heart objected. she puts music on, setting the dress on her bed and undresses, studying herself in the mirror for a moment before making her way to the bathroom and turning on the shower. she takes a long while to let the hot water to melt onto her skin, cherishing the white silence of the shower head. the young woman takes her time getting ready, piecing herself back together with an extensive routine. once she’s in a robe with her hair wrapped up she walks to the fridge, grabbing a seltzer with alcohol to ease the slight oncoming nerves. she meticulously does her makeup and styles her hair, shamefully wondering if carmy would like how she’s dressed up, checking her phone to see it’s time to head over. dropping her robe and zipping into the dress she had picked out for the night, the girl examines her reflection, admiring the work she had put in. she looked hot, turning to the side and checking out her profile, curves accentuated by the tight fabric. satisfied, she mists herself with perfume and grabs her heels and purse, walking to the door. she swings the heavy metal barrier open to reveal a tepid july night, air thick with moisture. she balances against the frame, slipping into her heels and sliding her purse strap over her shoulder, stepping into the dusk of the evening and letting the door lock behind her. she glances at her phone for walking directions, head slightly fuzzy from the seltzer she had drank on an empty stomach. her short walk to the club garners many gawking stares from passerby’s, surprisingly not making her feel as small as they usually seem to, the goal was to catch eyes tonight, right?

she squints, identifying bright flickering lights in the distance, the border of the club’s sign. there were a few people dispersed outside, all either smoking or talking on the phone, or both. she brushes her hair back, walking towards the entrance when she hears her name called from behind her.

“- yo!” turning to see marcus and angel leaning against the brick wall of the establishment. she smiles, turning and walking towards them, the distinct odor of marijuana arising from the cigarette marcus clutched in between his thumb and pointer.

“hi,” she grins, tilling her head slightly.

“hey,” the two respond, almost in synchronicity. marcus holds the rolled paper to her, “want some?”

she smiles, plucking it from his fingertips and bringing it to her lips, deeply inhaling to soften the inevitable drop her stomach would endure at the sight of carmen. the ember burns quickly, and she’s surprised at the harshness.

she hands it back with a slow exhale, thanking marcus.

“nervous?” angel chimes in, trying to hide a smile. the girl pauses for a moment, is it so obvious?

“i haven’t been to a club in a while,” she responds, crossing her arms. it was partially true, but she knew the real reason for the relentless fluttering in her chest.

the man stubs the filter onto a nearby trash can, dusting his hands off on his pants. “you guys ready to go in?”

the other man affirms, pushing himself off the wall and turning to walk to the front. the girl stays behind, hesitating.

“you two go ahead. i’m gonna air out,” she responds, leaning back, basking in the slight breeze. the men both crack a smile before walking together to the entrance, leaving the girl in her solitude. she closes her eyes for a moment, deeply inhaling the night air, listening to the reverberation of bass through the walls of the club. she feels a cloud of haze overwhelm her, the mixture of substances seeping through her in a warm glow. she hears footsteps approach.

“hey.”

her eyes snap open, breath escaping her at the sight of carmy. he looked polished, buttoned up into a dress shirt, hair fluffy and face cleanly shaved. she nearly salivated at his presentation, the buzz she felt complicating her decision to ignore him.

“hi,” she shortly responds, lip slightly pouted, watching as his eyes examine her, floating down her form. he snaps his eyes away, clearing his throat.

“you, uh, get my text?”

she nods, looking up to him, meeting his eyes with unwavering contact. he walks closer to the girl, slightly shaking his head and furrowing his brow in confusion, an unspoken gesture to elaborate.

she looks away, arms wrapping around herself.

“i didn’t need a ride,” she answers, “i walked.”

carmen’s jaw visibly tightens, feeling a twinge of irritation.

“yeah. uh, i asked because i didn’t want you walking here alone,” he explains in a slightly frustrated tone.

“yeah, well i made it,” she retorts, aggravation bubbling beneath the surface, “so you don’t need to worry about it.”

she didn’t know why he was getting under her skin so easily tonight, her throat suddenly feeling hot and tight, raking her eyes over the top of his chest exposed by an open button.

“well i do,” the man argues, “i don’t want you walking by yourself. anywhere,” he solidifies in a stern tone. the girl lets out a scoff.

“you’re acting like you’re my boyfriend,” she spits, fed up with the sense of entitlement he felt over her.

“i’m not your fuckin’ boyfriend,” he quickly asserts, tone ringing out much harsher than he intended.

she knows this to be a fact, but still can’t help the drop she feels in her chest when he says it aloud like that. she opens her mouth to say something, then quickly closes it, biting her lip, eyes darting to the ground. he instantly regrets saying it, brushing his fingers through his hair, grabbing it, studying the girl’s dejection with a pit in his stomach.

“whatever, carmen,” she dismisses, shoving past him. her lungs felt tight, eyes burned, mentally cursing herself, rushing to the club entrance to distance herself from the man. she shoves the door open, immediately being engulfed by sound and swarming bodies. she blinks back a few tears, deeply inhaling and exhaling, zoning into the environment. spotting the group of her coworkers at a corner table, she shufflles through the crowd to approach them. syd immediately spots the girl, calling out to her and waving. she plasters on a smile as the rest turn to watch her, all unanimously greeting the new arrival. she makes her way over to tina, hugging her and giving her a kiss on the cheek, wishing her happy birthday. she squeezes into her seat in between sydney and richie, turning to the tall man to ask, “so where’s my drink?”

richie lets out a boisterous laugh, throwing an arm around the girl.

“i don’t think you’re gonna have much of a problem getting drinks tonight, sweetheart,” he teases, as carmy approaches the table, receiving welcomes and pulling out a chair to sit. she flickers her eyes over to carmen to find he’s staring at her, quickly tearing them back away and leaning over to syd.

“come get a drink with me. i really need it,” she pleads, placing her hand on sydney’s forearm. the other girl agrees, the two sliding out from under the table and making their way to the bar, arms linked.

—

why did i say that?

he watches her rush to the front entrance, his body frozen, processing the conversation.

why did i say that?

he begins to go after her, reaching his arm out before she swiftly maneuvers the door open, slipping inside.

why the fuck did i say that?

it wasn’t completely untrue— he wasn’t her boyfriend— something he had failed to make entirely made clear before that point. he wasn’t oblivious to the way they had grown closer, either, the thought of her nestled deeply within a sweet spot in his heart. yet he had done nothing to prevent it from happening, and once thinking of it, he finds he’s only ever done the opposite, his behavior towards the girl falling far closer to a boyfriend than a hookup. he begins following in her footsteps, opening the club door and immediately becoming overwhelmed with the number of people crowding the floor. carmy cranes his neck, watching her figure weave through the crowd and towards a corner table. he pushes through the wall of people, seeing her take her seat, approaching the table to receive greetings from his coworkers. his eyes are trained on her, wrapped into richie’s arm, smiling until she locks eyes with him. then it drops, slightly. it makes him feel sick. he turns to fak at his right and engages in conversation as he watches her rise from the table alongside sydney. she looks like a model of some type, he thinks, with dark makeup defining her striking eyes and hair tousled over her shoulder, tight black dress riding up over the skin of her thighs. he trails down her face to her neck. when she moves her hair behind her ear he can see a small purple mark left from his teeth, eyes fully fixated on the spot. the bass of the music thumps, reverberating through the club, floorboards shaking. he tries to keep up in the table’s conversation whilst simultaneously keeping a close eye on the girl, shifting to see her order at the bar through the moving bodies. she throws a shot back, grimacing at the taste, laughing while saying something to syd (he was never very good at reading lips) and raising her hand to flag the bartender once more. the table bursts into laughter, carmen’s eyes drawing back to his coworkers, watching as tina shoves richie’s hand with a smile on her face, rolling her eyes. he feels an inclination to step outside for a smoke, head buzzing with stimulation from the lively environment, wondering how long he should stay before it would be acceptable to leave.

“oh my gosh, thank you baby,” he hears tina say, glancing over to see the girl having returned from the bar, placing a fruity drink in front of the woman.

she smiles, returning to her seat as the current song ends, fading into the next. sydney and the girl gasp in tandem at the distinctive opening, locking eyes with each other and grinning.

“we’re gonna go dance!” the girl excitedly calls, taking syd by the hand and navigating towards the dance floor, crowded with moving bodies. it’s hot, but fluid, the two girls beginning to move together, grinning. carmen watches her, eyes cutting through the crowd. she moves her hips, bringing her hands up her body, flashing lights illuminating her in colors. the sight was hypnotic almost, eyes trained on her, tense in his seat. she throws her hair back, circling her body, closing her eyes.

richie leans over to him, “you, uh, sure she did just bartending over at ricky’s?” elbowing him slightly.

carmen doesn’t respond, eyes fixated on her gyrating movements, jaw tensing, painfully aware of all the eyes she’s gathered around the club. she continues dancing after the first two songs, even when sydney makes her way back to the table in need of rest. carmy tried to not make it so obvious he was watching the girl, grateful some of his other coworkers had joined the crowd on the dancefloor, completely entranced by her movement. he tears his gaze away, standing up find the bar, eager to ease the incredible tension he felt pent up within him. she seemed to be having fun dancing, and in a way it felt refreshing to watch the girl so loose and carefree. carmy couldn’t help the sense of possessiveness he felt, though, watching her move like that, seeing the way other men looked at her, like meat. it made him sick.

he orders a beer once the bartender makes their way over, song fading into the next. he turns to lean against the counter, eyes searching for her as he brings the bottle to his lips with a long swig. he feels a pang in his chest, as he finds her, hand on another man’s arm, leaning to whisper something in his ear. he closely watches as the man smiles, nods, placing his hands on her hips and getting closer to her. carmen’s skin immediately becomes hot, teeth clenching, taking a deep breath through his nose to try and calm himself.

what the fuck is she doing?

his eyebrows furrow, watching as she dances, bringing her arms up, turning, moving against the stranger. he feels physically sick, stomach churning at the way this man was touching her navel, hips, pressing himself to the back of her. carmy tightly grips the bottle, unable to rip his eyes away, the girl glistening in the light. she throws her head back against the man’s shoulder, hair draping over him, grinding to the music. her eyes find carmen’s quickly, intentionally locking gazes as she brings the strangers hands higher, up her waist, ribs, her mouth falling opening. carmen stands, knocking the barstool off balance with the force of his movement, shoving through the crowd, disregarding the dirty looks, quickly making his way to the dance floor. he grabs the girl’s wrist, pulling her from the stranger’s grasp, tightly gripping her as he walks towards the back door, dragging her behind him, feeling the struggle of her arm as she tries to pull away. he turns, putting a hand on her lower back, ushering her through the club, shoving the heavy metal door open and bringing her outside, finally letting go when the two are far from the door. he brings a hand to his hair, grabbing, turning to face the girl.

“what the fuck, carmen?” she yells, ripping her hand away from him, “what’s your issue?” her words slightly under-enunciated.

he bites down on his lip, meeting her eyes, hand coming to his hip. he hardly had an explanation for the girl, driven by a redhot primal jealousy, blood boiling at the sight of someone else’s hands on her, grabbing, feeling her like that.

“what’s my issue?” he scoffs, “why the fuck were you dancing like that?” his face reddening, pulse quickening. she lets out a laugh, leaning back against the wall, gazing up at him.

“why?” she asks, “are you jealous?”

he shakes his head, unconsciously stepping closer to her.

“i’m not jealous,” he argues, jaw set firmly, eyes casting down onto her.

“yeah?” she leans forward, further closing the distance between them. he nods, fixated on the droop of her eyes, the part of her lips, the way she looked up at him through her dark lashes.

“so what if i fuck him?” she asks softly, a smirk playing on her lips, “will you be jealous then?”

he lets out a breath, fire growing at her words.

he shakes his head, “you’re not gonna fuck him,” asserting with confidence. she tilts her head, alcohol emboldening her.

“how do you know?” she challenges, well aware of how affected she was by his tone, his demeanor, the look in his eyes. carmy gets closer to her face.

“because he’s not gonna fuck you like i do,” his voice deep, low, eyes boring into hers with an intensity that lights her core ablaze. the girl finds her breath hitches, mouth going dry, gaze flickering to his lips. he rests his hand on the brick behind her, leaning closer, “hear all those pretty sounds you make.”

she shuts her eyes tightly, trying to shake her senses of the overwhelming lust she felt. she was supposed to stay angry at him, he was being an asshole. maybe it was the alcohol or the drugs, or the way he towered over her, but she felt no anger, only replaced by want, a slick ache growing at the way he seems to claim her for himself. she takes a deep breath, body feeling as if it were buzzing, head cloudy.

“you are so fucking confusing,” she whispers, bringing her forehead to lightly touch his. he rests his hand on her lower back, relishing in the warmth of the contact, breathing in her scent. she was completely right about him, he thinks, never saying what he really means to her. if he could have what he really wanted, she would be his, only his. a girlfriend.

“yeah,” he takes a shaky breath, “yeah. i know,” reply coming, hesitantly. “i’m sorry, -” he breathes out, her name sounding sweet on his tongue. she blinks away the tears that want to form, grabbing the fabric of his shirt, a small tremble of the lip. she opens her mouth to say something, eyes tearfully meeting his.

the metal door creeks open, momentarily releasing the booming music out into the alleyway, breaking the trance as a few smokers congregate by the back. the girl changes her mind, mouth shutting. she releases his shirt, pulling away, stepping around the man and smoothing her appearance, pads of her fingers coming to dry a few escaped tears. he watches her try and compose herself, shivering in her small dress. his heart clenches, feeling the overwhelming need to take care of her— wrap his arm around her, lead her back to his home, dress her in more of his clothes and watch her fall asleep. he shrugs off his light jacket, walking over to her and draping it over her shoulders without saying anything. she glances up at the man, engulfed by his warmth and the smell of him, ache in her chest.

“i’m gonna go home,” she whispers, swaying slightly.

“let me walk you,” he offers, hand coming to her upper back. she quickly shakes her head, taking a step away from him.

he sighs at her stubbornness, says her name.

“you’re drunk,” he observes, “let me make sure you get there okay.”

she hiccups, crossing her arms.

“ ‘m not drunk,” she slurs unconvincingly. he nods, letting out a breath, hand coming to rub his face.

“okay,” he concedes, “then, just… go back in with me for a sec. say bye to everyone.”

she meets his eyes, consideration running over her features, then nodding slowly. he puts his hand on the small of her back, steadying her as they walk back towards the large metal door. there’s a noticeable change in temperature difference as the two enter the club again, weaving through a sea of moving bodies, carmy holding tightly onto her, ushering her forward towards the corner table. he doesn’t miss the glances from his workers at the sight of the girl wearing his jacket, a few smiles cracked, looks exchanged. he ignores it, picks his beer back up as the girl excuses herself from the event, claiming to not feel good and chalking it up to drinking too much when she usually doesn’t partake. richie, surprisingly, says nothing, eyes trained on carmen, smirk plastered over his face.

“i’m gonna head out too,” carmy announces, “take her home.”

richie begins loudly laughing, clapping his hands together.

“jesus christ, i am right about everything!” he shouts, slamming his glass down onto the table. carmen’s skin begins to prickle with embarrassment.

“hey richie,” he chimes, “shut the fuck up.” he felt unbearably tense tonight between the day’s grueling shift, the girl dancing on another man, the newfound teasing, as if he were about to implode. he was in desperate need of some sort of release. carmy watches her, tightly clad fabric stretching over her ass as she leans down to give tina a hug. he felt guilty, almost, the way he had been shamelessly gawking at her throughout the night, the act doing nothing but intensify the burning he felt bottled up within him.

“i’m sorry i’m leaving so early, t,” he hears from her mouth, “i don’t feel very well.”

the older woman brushes the apology away, placing a kiss on the girl’s cheek.

“feel better, baby,” she coos, looking to carmen, “jeff, you make sure she gets into bed okay,” the command motherly in tone. he nods, coming to give tina a side hug, “ ‘night, t. happy birthday.”

—

the sidewalk pavement was in dire need of repair, cracks and bumps literally the surface, worsening the walk for people who weren’t drunk. she stumbles over a divot, instinctively grabbing onto carmy’s arm for balance, heels catching on every small crevice. she lets out a cry of frustration, stopping in her tracks.

“this is impossible,” she exclaims, reaching down to adjust the strap of her heel, “why don’t they fix this stupid street?”

he can’t help the way the corners of his lips twitch upwards. she was cute, even in her frustration. he crouched, slightly, leaning over, arms out.

“c’mere,” he tells her, “jump up.”

she falters, trying to retain independence in her drunken stubbornness, but ultimately accepts, the other option being continually tripping over herself for another mile. she puts her hands up on his shoulders, using him as leverage to boost herself up, his arms coming to wrap around the backs of her thighs. he hears her squeal, slightly, feeling as she pulls the short dress down to cover the curve of her ass. the man grits his teeth, shaking the mental image of it as he tightly grips the supple skin of her upper thighs. she’s easy to carry, surprisingly so, as he continues walking in the direction of her apartment building. a silence settles between the two of them, breaths falling in line with the gentle rhythm of his steps. she wraps her arms around him further, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder, exhale tickling his neck. he clears his throat, glancing back at the girl, seeing her closed eyes.

“i, uh,” he hesitates, gathering his thoughts, “i fuckin’ hated seeing that guy touch you,” the confession slipping off of his tongue. he feels her smile slightly against his neck.

“i knew you would,” her reply comes softly. he lets out a small scoff, humored by what she admits.

“you’re a brat,” he asserts lowly, pressing his fingers into her skin. she splays her arms out, pushing her chest against his back, hand coming to rest on his bare collarbones.

“you were being a dick,” her words ringing truthfully, resounding throughout the man, feeling a pang of guilt.

“yeah. i know,” he agrees, eyes fixed forward, “i’m sorry.” carmen lets a cloud of silence engulf the two before vocalizing again.

“you know, i… really do wanna be with you,” he admits gently, soul bared. she pauses, soaking in his words, feeling almost as if a puzzle piece had been pushed into place.

“why not?” her question comes soft, sweet. he lets out a deep breath.

“you know why,” he quietly replies, the street lamps casting their two shadows as one. she does know why, aware of the sly glances the two received, apparent judgment surrounding a relationship with the power imbalance of theirs.

“well, i quit then,” she pouts, lips brushing against his skin, erupting him in goosebumps. he shakes his head.

“you can’t,” comes his rejection, “we need you,” expressing the fact with utmost sincerity. she hugs her arms around him tighter, smelling his cologne, his soap, a faint trace of cigarette smoke.

“i don’t care,” she protests in all of her stubborn glory, “i wanna be yours, carm.”

he feels himself surrender at her words, pulling her even closer.

“you’re mine,” he assures her, glancing back to meet her eyes, nodding, feeling warmth as if a bright light glowed from his chest. they can figure out the details later— he genuinely didn’t want her to quit, trying to remind himself it was the only way their relationship would be ethical. the man slows in pace as they approach the front of her building, letting the girl hop down, holding his hand out to steady her once her feet make contact with the ground. she gives a small smile, intertwining her arm with his, hand coming to rest on the mass of muscle as the two make their way to her building. she clutches onto him in her inebriated state as they scale the tall stairs leading up to her door. she fumbles with her keys, eventually unlocking the deadbolt and pushing the door open. she turns to face him, giving him sort of a puppy dog look, hoping he’ll want to follow her in. a smile breaks his face, studying her expression.

“i, uh, gotta make sure you get in bed okay,” he reminds her, gesturing inside. she grins, taking his hand, pulling him inside and shutting the door. the space was illuminated with strung lights, warm in hue, mystifying the room. he takes a deep breath, wrapped in her intoxicating scent, eyes scanning the room. he primarily notices how pristine it is, cozy, fragments of her soul framed over the walls and resting on shelves. it felt like a home, more than his ever has. she sets her keys and purse on a side table, kicking off her heels and sighing in relief, trudging to the kitchen to retrieve two glasses of water. when she hands it to him he can’t help but stare, focusing on her face, the ache for her insurmountable to anything he’s ever wanted before. he sets the glass down, hand coming to her lower back, deeply looking into her, past her beauty and towards her essence. he watches as her eyes flicker down to his lips, quickly coming back to meet his gaze. he’s in awe of her, almost, bringing both hands to the small of her back, squeezing her slightly, pulling her to him with ease. she lets out a breath at the action, hand coming to his forearm, feeling the flex of his tendons. he wants her all to himself, he thinks, leaning in towards her, raising his hand to cup the side of her face. she leans into the touch, turning, pressing a kiss to the base of his thumb, bringing her other hand to rest on his, biting the skin. he grasps her face at this, shoving his thumb into her mouth.

“suck,” he commands, voice low, watching in anticipation as she brings her lips around the digit, tongue circling eagerly, trying to take more of it into her mouth. he nearly falls apart at the sight, twitching, pulling her flush against him, dragging his thumb out of her mouth and over her bottom lip. he drops his hand to touch her neck, watching her lips, hearing his heart pound in his ears. she brings her grip to clutch onto his shirt, heavily breathing. he cherishes her expression, cheeks flushed and lips parted, glistening. carmen tightens his hand around her throat very slightly, leaning in to taste her, his lips gently pressing against hers, hearing her moan at the unexpected contact. she’s sweet, soft, eager, the slightest trace of alcohol on her lips. he hadn't realized how much he had been craving her taste until it graced his tongue, feeling almost as if a tension in him had alleviated. he wants more, tattooed fingers wrapping around her neck, pulling her into him, deepening the kiss. she melts into him, trying to keep up with the ferocity of his kiss, pushing her tongue into his mouth. he groans, bringing his hand from her back to the curve of her ass, feeling, squeezing, pulling her in. he takes his hand off her throat, her leg slightly lifts, and he takes the opportunity to hoist it up over his hip, turning and pressing her into the counter, weight of his body against hers. it feels as if something had snapped within him, wanting to claim her all to himself, grabbing whatever he can of her, getting as close as possible, lips, tongues dancing in tandem. he presses a few slow kisses to her mouth, pulling away, forehead coming against hers, eyes shut. he listens to the sound of their breath, hand on her ass, fingers teasing the hem of her panties. she arches into his touch, body tingling, hot with desire. his hand comes up, then flies back down to smack her ass, the girl takes a sharp breath, firmly gripping it again after the impact.

“fuck,” she breathes, a hot swell in her lower stomach. he creeps his hand up the skin of her thigh, slipping under her dress, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, dragging them down her legs. her face grows hot at the way he takes command, shoving at the fabric until it slides down her calves and hits the floor. she steps out of them, breath shaky, drenched in anticipation, insides of her thighs growing wet. carmy gives her a final kiss before dropping to his knees in front of her, placing a few gentle kisses around her skin. she instinctively clamps her thighs at the sensation, the man bringing his hand to shove her leg to the side, exposing her glistening heat. he lets out a soft moan at the sight, closer than he’s ever been to her core, leaning forward to softly kiss her clit. the girl lets out a cry of surprise, hand flying to his head, the simple act sending a shock throughout her body. he brings his thumb and pointer finger to part her both of her lips, taking her image in, salivating slightly in anticipation. he casts his eyes up towards her face, flushed, mouth open. he leans forward, licking a long stripe up her wetness to her clit, swirling his tongue around the bud, pulling away. she pants, fingers tangled in his hair, arching towards him, wordlessly asking for more. he groans at the taste of her, a rush to his head, his cock, immediately diving in for more, lapping at her as if she’s the finest thing he’s had in his mouth. her knees begin to go weak, trembling slightly, trying to hold onto him for support.

“carmy,” she whimpers, “i can’t stand.”

this breaks his focus, bringing his eyes up to her with a glint.

“yeah?” he asks, “feel too good, baby?” a smirk growing on his face. she refuses to respond, tightly shutting her eyes and throwing her head back when he brings his thumb to slowly circle her clit, watching, gauging her reaction. he pulls his hand away, placing a small smack on the inside of her thigh, the girl gasping.

“answer me” he growls, breath tickling her mound, leaning to press a few more kisses to her swollen heat. she lets out a whine, grabbing his hair.

“it feels- fuck it feels so good carm,” she shakily admits, knees nearly buckling. satisfied with her answer he brings both hands to the base of her ass, lifting her with ease and setting her on the countertop. she hastily grabs his shirt and pulls him in, locking lips and tasting herself on his tongue, letting a sweet sound into his mouth. he breaks away, desperate to feel her wetness on his mouth again. he kisses the inside of her thigh, then leans in, flattening his tongue against her clit, gently lapping, a finger coming to tease her pooling entrance. she unintentionally bucks her hips at the sensation, prompting carmen to bring the length of his forearm to her inner thigh, shoving it open, holding her down. she brings her eyes to his tattooed arm splaying her open, heart pounding, trying to straighten herself, awaiting his touch. he continues his gentle licks, circling his finger around her wetness, then pushing the digit into her slowly, eyes darting up to watch her mouth fall open. he swirls his tongue around her engorged clit, then gently sucks, curling his finger deeply inside of her, beginning to establish a rhythmic motion. her pants turn to cries, pulling the man in by his curls. his hand grips the skin of her thigh, spreading her open, devouring her, pushing a second finger into her. her teeth clamp down onto her lip at the sensation, gripping around his digits, trying hard to keep her composure in front of the man. carmy, aware of this, increases the pace of his movement, pulling his mouth away from her, beginning to tease her clit with a feather-like touch of his tongue. her head falls back, smacking against the cabinet, a loud moan slipping through her lips.

“please,” she pleads, not sure for what, arching into carmen’s motion, hands grabbing whatever she can of him, the knot inside her stomach growing impossibly tight. he wants to feel her cum— clench around his fingers, see how long he can keep fucking into her until it’s too much— but he refrains, pulling his fingers out, soaked with her juices, standing up. her head jerks up to meet his eyes, panting, flushed, frustrated.

“whyy?” she whines, trying to pull the man back to her. he lets out a scoff, smirk creeping at the edges of his lips, hands on the tops her thighs, gripping.

“you think i’m gonna let you cum?” he asks, voice low, coming close to her face, “after that shit you pulled in the club?”

her lip pouts, face heating at his words, held down by his weight, trying to catch her breath. the girl opens her mouth to argue back, but decides against it, just wanting to feel him— leaning forward to kiss him softly, hungrily, hands coming to feel the muscles of his chest. he melts into the kiss, hands wrapping around her back.

“you don’t care, huh?” carmy teases between kisses, “just want me to keep touchin’ you,” pressing himself between her thighs, deepening their contact. she nods into the kiss, greedily reaching her hands down to pull his shirt up. he pulls away from her, taking it off completely, groaning as the girl runs her hands up his bare abdomen, then gently rakes her nails down, admiring the way his muscles flex under her touch. he grows a bit impatient, decides to pick her up, her legs coming to wrap around his back, carrying her to the bedroom. she grins at the way he holds her, hands gripping both of her ass cheeks, leaning down to kiss his neck in the short walk. when he drops her onto the plush duvet of her bed he leans over her, fingers grasping the side zipper of her dress, slowly pulling it down to reveal the skin of her ribcage, waist, stopping right above her hip. they lock eyes and he searches her face for any signs of hesitation, finding only blown pupils and flushed cheeks. he grabs the hem of the dress, slowly pulling it down her body to expose her breasts, waist, stomach, pelvis, letting the fabric fall over her ankles to the floor. his eyes drink her in, sparks firing in his brain, bringing his hands to grasp her waist, thumbs resting over her stomach. carmy leans in, deeply kissing her, savoring her warmth, then rises, unbuckling his belt. she props herself up onto her elbows, watching the man slowly unbutton his pants, pull the zipper down. she lets out a heavy breath at the sight of the large bulge behind his briefs, straining against the cotton, curved upwards to the right. she sits up, inching towards the edge of the bed, seated in front of the man, gazing up at him in adoration.

“can i take these off?” she asks softly, fingers coming to hook into his briefs, pulling them slightly to reveal the deep v-line in his hips, light brown hair leading down to his covered pubic bone. her mouth was almost watering, looking up at him in anticipation. he grins at her eagerness, raising his eyebrows slightly, nodding his head, giving her permission to slip the waistband down over his hips, cock slapping against his stomach when she does so. she immediately grabs the length of his dick, heavy in her hand, giving it a few slow strokes, watching as he closes his eyes, breathing out heavily. her head feels fuzzy, wanting nothing more than for him to shove her back onto the bed and fill her completely, continuing to marvel at his thickness. he brings his hand to stroke the side of her face, fingers coming over her ear and threading through her hair, watching intently as she slowly jerks him off. she clenches her thighs together in an attempt to alleviate the growing ache, running out of patience.

“carm,” she whines, gripping his cock, gazing up at him, handsome face framed by a few messy curls, “i want it already.”

he lets a small smirk grace his face, rubbing his thumb against her cheek.

“yeah?” he asks, watching the girl quickly nod, bringing his face closer to his, lowering his voice, “you know i’m gonna fuckin’ wreck you tonight, right?”

she heats at his words, eyes widening, an expectant shiver making it’s way through her body and settling throughout her core. he doesn’t let her respond, grabbing her thighs and pulling her, back coming to the mattress, pelvis flush with his. he bends her legs into her chest, leaning over her, the tip of his cock briefly gracing her wetness before he brings his hand down to grip himself, running the tip through her slick folds, sliding up to nudge her clit. she tightly shuts her eyes, lets out a quiet moan at the sensation— almost enough to satisfy, but not quite. he continues thrusting through her folds, listening to the wet sounds, coating himself in her juices. she tries to resist the urge but she can’t, reaching down, grabbing his cock and sticking it inside of her, legs coming to wrap around his back to pull him in.

“fuckk,” he exclaims loudly, not expecting her desperation, suddenly engulfed in her warmth. he groans, trying to compose himself, bringing his hand to her throat, leaning in, pushing his hips forward to the hilt. she whimpers, cherishing the slight burn of fullness as he tightens his grip around her throat.

“this what you wanted?” he asks, voice gruff, fully draped over her, nuzzling a kiss under her ear. the way he speaks to her ignites a flame, emboldening her slightly. her eyes gleam.

“no,” she breathes, “i want you to fuckin’ move,” words laced with a tone. he lets out a short laugh, straightening, grabbing both her calves and propping them up over his shoulders, drawing out of her and then quickly snapping his hips forward. she gasps, hand flying up to her mouth. she feels the ridge of his head drag against her walls as he graciously begins to thrust into her, hands wrapped around her legs, eyes coming to watch her breasts bounce in time with his rhythm. her hand falls away from her mouth, a loud cry pouring from her lips. carmen revels in the sound as he continuously drives his hips forward, skin slapping against hers, gripping her left calf, turning to press a kiss into her ankle. his pace begins to satiate the relentless burn within her core, trying to take his length as deeply as possible.

“so good,” she whimpers, bringing her hands to her breasts, squeezing. carmy groans, slapping her outer thigh.

“where’d that attitude go?” he asks, pelvis flush against her, pulling closer, “huh?”

her brows furrow, opening her mouth to argue but falling short, a breathy moan replacing her words at the sensation of him deeply fucking into her. her body feels incredibly hot, nipples perked beneath her fingers, feeling herself approaching an edge. he grins, moving his hand to grip at her thigh, eyes scanning over the sight in front of him.

“so fuckin’ pretty,” he tells her, hips stuttering, trying to push away his quickly approaching orgasm. he pulls out of her, the girl’s eyes shooting open to object. carmy takes hold of her forearms, pulling her to stand, grabbing her hips and turning her around, pushing her forward. her knee comes to the bed, balanced on her other leg as he wraps his arm around her waist, hand on her ribcage and inserts himself back into her tightness.

“yes,” she cries, arching back against him and bringing her hand onto his arm, feeling the head of his cock thrust deeply upwards. the tingling in her core grows stronger; her head falls back onto his shoulder. carmen grunts, his free hand coming to find her clit, rubbing small, soft circles, feeling himself unravel at the intense pulse of her walls. he kisses her cheek, relentlessly pounding into her, the crescendo of her moans driving him higher and higher. his lips come right next to her ear, breath ragged.

“you my girl?” he asks, another kiss on the side of her face, bringing his hand from her ribs to her breast, gently squeezing.

she nods quickly, arm coming behind her to grab his hip, feeling him, tangible beneath her fingers.

“all yours,” she pants, “i’m all yours, carm.”

he groans at the sentiment, bottoming out inside of her, quickly circling her clit as her arousal grows slick on his fingers. she feels herself tumbling towards her edge, trying to physically hold onto him so as to not climax, fingers gripping into his skin.

“i’m-,” a cry falls from her mouth. he pulls the two even closer, wetness pouring from her at the continual thrusts, feeling the cues of her body approaching climax.

“let it go, baby,” he coos, lips pressed against her ear. with his simple command she feels an intense heat envelop her body, orgasm crashing against her like a wave. she goes limp in his arms so he grabs her tighter, bending her over the bed. her thighs begin to shake as carmen relentlessly snaps his hips, watching her intently, feeling a white hot pleasure seep through him. he’s ferociously grabbing at her, pulling her in as he approaches his edge, stutter of his hips as he bottoms out and releases himself into her with a loud groan. she feels the pressure of his cum against her walls, intense heat diffusing as she rides out the shocks of her orgasm. he collapses over her, hand coming to the bed, trying not to put his full weight upon her. their labored breaths harmonize, hearts pounding. carmy runs a hand over her lower back, soothingly rubbing the limp girl. he pushes himself up, straining to grab a tissue off her nightstand to clean with, the act of pulling out of her releasing a constant pressure, the girl whimpering. he soaks up the mess of cum dripping down her legs, drinking in the sight, then rises to throw the tissues away. she’s able to muster the energy to push herself up and stumble behind him, walking into the bathroom to turn on the shower, steadying her shaky legs by holding onto the wall. she turns to see the man, naked in all his glory, approach her, placing his hands on her hips and leaning in to kiss her deeply. she seeps into his touch, hand coming to graze his lower stomach, exhaling slowly. he lets a peace wash over the two before speaking.

“so, uh, i’ll take this as your two weeks notice, then?” he teases, hand falling to her low back. she tilts her head to the side.

“what? you mean i don’t get a promotion after that?” she asks, smiling, trying to feign disappointment, “fuck.”

he grins, adoringly gazing down at the young woman, bathing in the light of her smile.

he knew it was never supposed to go so far. it was never supposed to end up in this position, with her leaning in for another kiss, him greedily accepting. she was his completely now, the man making a vow to never let anything or anyone hurt her, cherishing the feeling of her warmth under his fingertips.

it was never supposed to go so far, but it did. and he was so fucking glad it did.

—

eeeek i hope you liked it!! i genuinely enjoyed writing this story so much. an epilogue to wrap up some loose ends is possible in the future- in the meantime i'll be posting some steamy carmy headcannons.

please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! thank you SO MUCH to everyone for the continued support on this series <3

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto imagine #the bear imagine

786 notes · View notes

yourmomxx · 1 year ago

Note

Heyyy omg I saw you looking for criminal minds requests. Would it be possible to request something for derek morgan?? Maybe a protective derek where he's freaking out after hearing that reader is hurt (reader can be bau as well or just regular civillian, it's up to you) and ends up smothering her. Thankyouu so much 🥺💞

a/n: I totally could see Derek Morgan do this, honestly, this is so good. Anon, thank you for your request, I really hope you like how it turned out!

"Derek, seriously, I'm fine!"

"Uh-huh, sure. Tell that to the x-ray the doctor made of your double fractured ankle."

You tried really hard, you did, but at the end, couldn't resist the urge of rolling your eyes.

Derek - your dear, caring, passionate boyfriend, who you loved endlessly (most times) - had acted this way for the past few days. Four, to be exact, four and a half if one counted the day he spent in the hospital with you, not leaving your side even to get coffee.

It had been, a few days ago, that you had broken your ankle.

Fractured, twice.

It happened while you were coming down the stairs, you'd slipped on a patch of the sleek wood and tumbled down the remaining three quarters to the bottom.

It was the most stupid and idiotic way to break a bone, honestly, but it had happened to you either way.

You'd known Derek was out on a case, somewhere in Milwaukee, you honestly didn't remember all the town's names all that exactly, which is why you had satisfied yourself with only sending him a quick text after an ambulance had shuttled you to the nearest hospital.

The doctors had told you that you would be fine, just that they were pretty booked this time of year and your treatment could take longer than usual.

It's why you stayed the night.

When you had woken up the next day, mind still a bit foggy and ankle swollen and hurting more than it would any normal day, you had never expected to actually see your boyfriend earlier than that evening.

But you'd been wrong.

Because there he stood, Derek Morgan, in all his tight-henley, muscular glory, talking with one of the doctors who'd briefed you about your condition the day before, an invested look on his face, just a few feet outside your open hospital room door.

The clinical, white sheets rustled as you straigthened yourself up.

"Derek?" The soft call of his name made your boyfriend look up, just as the doctor stepped away.

A smile played around his lips as he made his way over to you. You were still baffled about his showing-up, when he leaned down and pressed a greeting kiss to your mouth.

"Hey, sweet thing," Derek mumbled.

With a grunt, he sat down in the worn-out, yellow cushion chair and regarded you with deep concern in his dark eyes.

"How are you feeling?"

You tilted your head.

"Like I fell down the stairs and double-broke my ankle not even twelve hours ago."

Derek's mouth left a soft chuckle. You grinned.

"What are you even doing here, I thought you had a case?"

He raised his hands in a defensive manner. "Whoah, now don't be too excited." There was no bite behind his words, or the eyeroll you gave him in response.

"I'm serious, baby," You said. "You didn't have to be here, I'm totally fine."

Derek leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. His gaze didn't leave yours.

"We closed the case about two hours after you sent me that text," He explained. "When I read what happened, I pushed everyone to pack their things just a bit faster than normal, we took the jet, and now I'm here." He opened his arms. "End of story."

You cocked an eyebrow. "How much faster?" You asked.

Derek weighed his head. "A lot faster."

You let out a laugh. "God, you are crazy," You breathed out, cheeks pushing your eyes closed with how wide you were smiling.

Derek reached out and took your hand into his, the warm weight laying comfortable in your palm.

"Only for you, mama."

His hand squeezed yours and you smiled.

Turns out that hospitals were the. worst.

At first the willingness with which all staff was tending you with, it felt like a blessing, for once not having to do the most mundane tasks by yourself - because honestly, who wouldn't want that? - but as time passed by, it all seemed to weigh down on you.

You were practically chained to a bed that wasn't yours, and therefore in no possibility as comfortable as the mattress you were used to. The clinical smell of sanitizer started burning in your nostrils, and your eyes felt blinded by the exact same shade of white that covered every wall, surface, and sheet in your sight.

You almost groaned when a white cast was put on your leg to stabilize it. Derek had just grinned at you and promised to bring Penelope over at some point, with a set of acrylics, glue, and rhinestones.

That's when it had started. The Doctor had told you to rest up for a while, don't put too much weight on your left foot where you had broken your ankle, and come in for regular check-ups.

You should've known then, that you were doomed. Because since you had left the hospital that afternoon four - three and a half - days ago, Derek had not once thought about leaving your side.

For anything.

Any. Thing.

He was being so sweet with it, of course, because Derek Morgan didn't know to be anything else, but over time, having this constant worry hung at you for tasks that should have been the simplest of everyday life was draining, and made you grow agitated.

If you needed to compare it, it felt like being sixteen and your parents checking in on you while you were at a friend's birthday party every hour on the clock, all over again.

You were standing in the kitchen right now, spatula in one hand, the other perched warningly at your hip, a pan on the stove ready to be heated up and a disapproving look on your face, staring down Derek Morgan who stood accross from you with his arms crossed and an almost stronger "Don't try me"-attitude than you had.

Almost.

"Baby," You said, slowly dragging out each syllable. "I understand and do appreciate your concern, but I am fully able to cook lunch."

"The doctor said not to put too much pressure on your foot," Derek shot back. He gestured towards the kitchen island. "Scurrying around for at least half an hour without a break is what I call 'too much pressure'."

The only pressure you were feeling right now was the exasperated groan that you fought back of pushing out your chest.

"I feel alright," You reassured him. "And if I really feel like it's too much, then I'll sit down and take a break."

Derek shook his head. "Will you, though?"

You sighed and put the spatula in an empty space on the kitchen island.

As smoothly as you could, you walked over to your boyfriend, supporting the weight on your unmoving leg by leaning your hand on the kitchenette, as you had discarded your crutch on the other side of the room.

Derek raised his eyebrow at that.

Finally reaching your boyfriend, you put your unoccupied hand on his cheek and let your thumb softly stroke over the stubbled skin.

Derek ever so slightly leaned into the touch.

"I'm just worried 'bout you," Derek murmured quietly.

You nodded slowly. "I know."

You did. And you understood. With all the death and hurt he saw, day by day, night after night, how could he not be?

"But baby, you gotta believe me when I tell you that I can take care of myself. That I know my limits." You gestured around vaguely. "That I can cook lunch for myself and my beautiful, kind boyfriend."

A hushed laugh escaped Derek's chest. His dark eyes found yours and the glimmer in them softened, turned a whirl of worry into a smooth tide.

"You just gotta watch out for you," Derek said. "I know you like to push yourself, don't like admitting defeat."

His hand came to rest on your forearm of the hand that was still tenderly lingering on his cheek. The soft tickle of his thumb drawing absentminded circles seeped through the thin layer of your clothing.

"But taking breaks is okay. There's a difference between being weak and just taking care of yourself."

Derek dipped his knees slightly when he noticed your gaze flashing to the floor, to catch your attention again.

"And I have never, not once in the time I've known you, known you to be weak. Alright, sweetheart?"

The warmth was radiating off his strong body, and infiltrating every single one of your concious senses. Unaware you were doing it, you leaned closer to him. The breeze of his cologne wrapped around you in pure comfort.

"Alright," You said. "Alright, I promise I'll take care."

Derek held your gaze. His fingers pushed a loose strand of hair away from your forehead. "That's all I wanted to hear."

The quick peck you pulled him in for by the neck quickly turned into an open-mouthed kiss, Derek's tongue circling yours for the briefest of moments, before finally gaining dominance.

You attempted to press further into him, but your hard time keeping balance wouldn't allow it.

He pressed one last, small kiss to your nose before backing away.

You smiled at him cheekily, still supporting yourself on the cold stone of the kitchenette, and laboriously turning around to finally get to make the food you'd fought so hard to be able to cook.

"At least let me work the stove."

"Derek!"

#derek morgan #derek morgan imagine #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x female reader #derek morgan x fem!reader #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x y/n #derek morgan x plus size!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x you #yourmomxx #requested #answered #derek morgan fluff

428 notes · View notes

gisellecnz · 5 months ago

Text

𝐀/𝐧: Okay, first of all—anon, I am SO SORRY TO KEEP YOU WAITING, I've had a new sy started so I was a little busy..😭😭 and I'm sorry maybe you wanted me to answer your ask directly to the post wherein I publish the fic already, so here's a photo of your ask in a screen shot form. 😭 Also, first would be gojo, and then next is Geto!!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo x reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: gojo took longer than expected to go home so reader is worried, angst to fluff, gojo babying you, fluff at the end

tick, tock, tick, tock

You stared at the clock, watching it tick and tock. It was past twelve, and each second felt like it lasted forever.

Satoru told you that he'd be home around 9 or 10 from his three-week overseas mission today, but there was no sound of keys clanging at the door, nor any update from him telling you that he'd be home in how many minutes left.

A tired sigh left from your lips, your eyelids becoming heavy as you slumped down on the couch that was near the entrance – your worry increasing every second for Satoru.

You grabbed your phone that was sat on the wooden table, turning it on as you checked your lock screen to see if there was any notification from Satoru – still none.

You opened the app where you and Satoru always communicated, whenever you two were separated. Your recent message to him – "Satoru? Are things going okay with the mission? How many hours left till you're home?" – was still left on delivered after 5 hours. It didn't show that he was active either. What was going on? He'd always text you back immediately. That was not exactly like him at all.

Anxiety was growing inside you each and every second you think about Satoru. Did something go wrong on his mission? No, you shouldn't think about that. He's strong—he should be able to survive. But what if he encountered a dangerous cursed relic?

Sigh. Negative thoughts kept filling up your mind, you tried to reassure yourself that everything went fine, but it just couldn't stop to the point it brought you to tears.

After a many minutes later, you heard keys jingling outside, indicating that someone is trying to open the door outside. Was that Satoru?

As the door creaked open, you quickly wiped away your tears and sat up straight, your heart pounding in anticipation.

And there, you saw him. Satoru was standing in the doorway. He looked more worn out than usual but was still unharmed. His hair was slightly tousled, and had dried blood stains on his jacket. You eyes looked down to his hands, which were holding on some sweets and a gift for you.

"Hey," he said softly. He noticed the tired look on your face, and the way your eyes we're wet and slightly puffy. Did you stay up all night for him? He felt bad. He closed the door behind him, and dropped his gifts on the couch beside him.

"Satoru, " you breathed out, relief washing over you as you ran to hug him tightly, whilst more tears were running down your face. "I was so worried. You got home so late and you didn't respond to my messages."

"I'm so sorry baby." He said, pulling you into a tighter embrace. Leaning in to give your forehead a gentle kiss. "The mission took longer than expected, and I forgot I had my phone inside my pocket while fighting and it broke...I was absolutely panicking when I realized I wouldn't be able to text you." He pulled back slightly to look at you, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb. "But I'm here now, yeah? I'm safe, dont worry. You shouldn't have stayed up all night to wait for me baby... " he plants another kiss on your forehead.

You buried your face in his chest, the familiar scent of him calming your racing heart. "B-but... How can I not sleep after you were gone for so many days, and you came home later..." Your words were a bit muffled due to you burying your face into his jacket, giving him a small weak punch on his chest as you sniffled in your cries.

Satoru's face softened into a sad expression, guilt evident in his eyes as he looked down at you. He gently cupped your face, lifting it so your eyes met his. "I know, I know. M'very sorry baby. Didn't mean to make you worry so much."

Seeing the tears streaming down your face made his heart ache. "It's okay baby, don't cry anymore. Hm? It's okay, I'm here now."

He rested his chin on top of your head, "I bought you some sweets and a little gift. I knew you'd be upset once I came back."

"You didn't need too..."

"Why not?"

You can imagine the pout on his face as he starts to gently sway you from side to side, whilst rubbing your back in circles.

"Alright, alright. Let's go back to bed now. Don't want my princess to get sick from staying aaaalll night long just for waiting for me.

in the end you both cuddled so tightly and you woke up to a bunch of gifts, he felt bad about you worrying so much about him and he thought the gifts from last night weren't enough 🥲

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #jjk fluff #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #jjk geto #geto suguru

107 notes · View notes

sleepy0s · 5 months ago

Text

Such a strange man

Grian: “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy” I would. Pussy.

Grian: “I’m not gonna sink to their level” I will. Coward.

Grian: “I’m the bigger person” I’m 150cm tall give me the gun bitch.

GRAIANN

Hi guys :> Felt like being nice, have a long one! (Long for my standards lol)

1399 Words

~~~

Look, growing up on the streets does a lot to a man you know? Grian was never taught that ‘two wrongs don’t make a right’ No, no he was taught ‘You want something, take it.’. Like seriously, man has no morals. Of Course... The hermits don’t actually know much about his past- Even Pearl HIS SISTER doesn’t know more than everyone else.

Most strangers look at Grian and see a cute, small avian who wouldn’t hurt a fly when in reality he is an eldritch being who grew up in mafias and will not hesitate to pull a gun on you. (Xisuma keeps trying to take them off him but he just keeps showing up with more???) This leads to some interesting experiences. For everyone else, not Grian.

The ‘first’ one.

~~~

It took Grian some time to open up when he joined hermitcraft (Yk, he had just spent the last couple of years locked in a cage in the end dimension lol) So, for the first month or three everyone assumed he was some nice parrot hybrid who was just shy. He didn’t talk in meetings and usually, you had to find him if you wanted to hang out. Even after he had come out of his shell he was still polite and kind (He is still kind but like, more open and friendly)

Anyway, getting distracted.

~~~

Xisuma had just finished talking about the important stuff, and everyone was chatting away. The hermits would probably stay in the meeting room for a while longer- the area was comfy.

Around half an hour into the hangout someone had pulled up a video on their comm of a server being destroyed whilst a player was still inside, which had become the current topic. “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy..” Tango mumbled, the blaze hybrid looked horrified with one hand covering his face as he tried to look away.

Now, Grian had been on a server whilst it was being destroyed, multiple actually in his many attempts at escaping so he was fully aware of the agony and pain someone felt when being essentially erased from existence. He also had many enemies, which he would wish this upon, but his worst enemy? Without a doubt, Sam Gladiator. The bunny hybrid that had tortured his childhood, and god he would probably laugh if he got to watch Sam go through that torture.

Unknowingly, Grian had started laughing to himself just at the thought, which meant some people were looking at him weirdly. “Grian? Why are you laughing?” Xisuma asked.

“Wha- nothing- nothing I was just imagining something.” He had stopped laughing but still had a smile on his face. “I would like- totally wish that upon my worst enemy.” He added simply, sitting up in his chair.

The trip to the main hub.

Some of the hermits had decided to go on a little trip to the main hub for shopping purposes. The small group included; Xisuma (He wasn’t letting them go off on their own.) Doc, Gem, Pearl, Scar and Grian. And it was going well. They each had budgets that they couldn’t go over and everyone had their own bags full of materials.

They had been told to meet up at the portal at 3 pm, and it was currently 2:55, and the only person not at the portal was Pearl. Oh- wait no Xisuma can see her. The Moth hybrid was rushing down the street, trying to get to them on time. “I’m not late yet- I’m not late- Ouch!” She had run head first into some older-looking man, luckily she hadn’t dropped anything.

“I'm sorry- I wasn’t looking where I was going! Are you okay?” She apologized, but when she looked up she was slightly shocked by the look on the man's face which was rage and disgust. “Ugh. Hybrids ruining everything, I'm going to be late for my meeting now because of you.” The man spat at her, before shoving her and causing her to drop everything.

Grian immediately ran over to his sister's side to help pick everything up, as with the others. “Are you just going to let him do that? Aren’t you going to do anything?” Grian asked as he handed her the stuff.

“No, I’m not going to sink to his level,” Pearl responded, but it was obvious she was upset. And look, he knew his sister could handle herself but if she was too shy to stand up for herself in public then he would do it for her. That was one thing he had learnt growing up as a hybrid, if you want to be respected then you can’t play nice. “Grian- Don’t!”

It was too late, he had stormed up to the man and was tapping him on the shoulder. “Sir? Sir. Sir!!!” He spoke, continuing to tap the man until he turned around. “What? I don’t have time for this.”

Grian didn’t look bothered by the man’s attitude, still smiling. “I would like you to apologize to my sister.”

The man laughed, “You think you can get me to apologize? No.” And Grian’s attitude switched, kicking him in the crotch and grabbing his collar, his face emotionless as he stared into his eyes. “It wasn’t a question. Now, Apologize before I pull my gun out.” He whispered into his ear, before letting go of him.

“Yep- yep understood!” He whimpered, rushing over to Pearl and continuously bowing. “I’m sorry for using such language- are you okay? Please be okay or he might kill me.”

The Intruder!

Hermitcraft is famous for being a very safe server, with some of the strongest protections. So, it’s very unlikely that someone can break in. Unlikely, but not impossible.

So, imagine everyone’s surprise when they wake up at 2 am with their comms ringing alarms that there had been a breach in security and that they all had to go to spawn. So, all 25 or so hermits had met up at spawn. Grumpy, cold and tired.

“Okay, so everyone is here yes?” Xisuma called out from the dirt pillar he had just built, “So.. uhm I’m not sure how to say this but there is an intruder on the server.” This, immediately caused an outburst among everyone, beginning to talk and whisper, despite Xisuma’s attempts to get everyone to listen

“SHUSH!” Doc screamed at the group, causing everyone to immediately go silent.

“Uh- thank you Doc.” Xisuma coughed, “So, we are all going to go into groups and find the intruder, thank you.”

The groups were decided quickly, and Xisuma ended up with Grian, Pearl, Scar and Mumbo. Everyone was on call, the comms acting as a radio. Xisuma’s group was near Grian’s base, walking through the trees behind the large rocks (Season 9) when Mumbo let out a yell. “Mumbo! What’s wrong- Oh.” Pearl ran over only to find Mumbo being held at gunpoint.

Grian, immediately reached for his own gun only to find Xisuma holding it, “Grian, be the bigger person.” Now, Xisuma was probably about to shoot himself in the face because he had never held a gun before so it would probably be safer to give Grian the gun (God thought I’d never write that) But also, Grian is a tiny guy.

“Xisuma, respectfully I am 5 foot give me the bloody gun.” He responded calmly, in a hushed voice so the intruder wouldn’t notice that they also had a weapon. “It’s him or Mumbo X, what are you gonna choose?”

“Oh god fine.” Grian really was very persuasive. The second the gun was back in his hands Grian was gone, completely disappeared into the trees.

“HAH! What are you gonna do? You call for help and I’ll shoot this... Strangely tall man.” The intruder threatened, seeming much too proud. “Now- I, Oh what do I want? I didn’t think I’d get this far..” Scar and Pearl had attempted to negotiate with the man.

“OH! I know- HEY!?” He didn’t get to put in his request as he got tackled from behind and didn’t have time to shoot Mumbo as he felt the cold feeling of a gun at his own neck.

Grian was sitting on top of the man, a scary smile on his face and a gun aimed at his neck and he genuinely looked excited at the chance he might get to shoot him.

#grian #hermitcraft #sleepy0s #pearlescentmoon #xisuma #evo smp #avian grian #samgladiator yhs #mumbo jumbo #skyblings #watchers #watcher grian #tangotek #docm77 #moth pearl

88 notes · View notes

marciaillust · 8 months ago

Note

How long does it take for you to finish drawing?

I'm an artist (beginner) and i unconsciously set unrealistic goals for myself and need a reminder of how long it takes to complete a drawing, Thanks.

Hi! In the context you presented it in, that is a really interesting question, so I'll try to approach it thoroughly. I hope I won't make you roll your eyes too much.

Where to start, where to start... I guess the first thing I should say is that there is a difference between time I spend preforming the action of <drawing>, and the time I spent <working> on a particular piece. The first would be counted in hours, the second one - days. I'm a big believer in slowing things down, and giving things time - going through options, gathering research and references, taking breaks every 1h of sitting and drawing - and seeing things through until I achieve the goal I set at the beginning of the process.

The goals are usually different each time: "quick design", "character exploration", "analysis of an artist's linework and experimenting with the knowledge gained", "creating an aesthetically pleasing image", and so on and so forth. Of course I don't write these down like it's a school assignment, but knowing in the back of my head what I'm actually doing helps me manage my expectations. I also enjoy being conscious of why I create - when I was younger regardless of what I was doing I had the thought "AND IT MUST LOOK GOOD AND PRESENTABLE! BECAUSE PEOPLE WILL LOOK!" ...and I think that obsession is the cancer of creative process.

Since the goals for each picture are different, the time I'll spent on achieving each one will be different as well, because the "satisfactory results" lay in different places. For example, the Marcile sketchpage was created in one afternoon, and took approximately 3 hours. The goal was to play around with a brush that has no opacity forcing my lines to be more decisive. I did that and so it is "finished". There's nothing else I want from it.

On the other hand, the cover of Asterism took about 10 days to create, the goal of which was to make "an aesthetically pleasing cover picture taking colour inspiration from the works of (specific list of artists)". I took my time designing it so that it looks aesthetically pleasing, made sure the anatomy is "correct" (a nebulous statement when it comes to stylised humans), took my time masking, and picking colours, and shading. I wanted it to "look good" to my own eyes so if something was not working I would go back, change it, alter it, move it around... that's the wonderful thing about personal art, you can take as long as you like making something satisfactory.

The funny thing is, with what the Asterism cover actually is (a cellshaded image), it could have been done probably in 4 days by the me 4 years ago. But that person was willing to sit 8-10 hours a day to draw with no breaks, she had little social life, and treated herself as a little circus seal performing tricks so that people clap around her, and the clapping was soooo nice because it meant that people remembered her and she mattered. And it worked for her! For long 10 years! Until her arm gave out, and the reality of never being able to draw again became more tangible than ever, and it's been following her like a fog ever since for the past 4 years. The me today works about 4 hours a day and every hour I take about a 30 minute break. I also don't post half the stuff I draw. There is also another aspect that dictates the speed of creating and that is familiarity with the subject matter. The less you know something, the fast you'll draw it! But as you get to know the intricacies of the process, and see all the building blocks, it will start taking *longer* because you will start accounting for every block. But then you'll eventually get familiar with the blocks and so the time spent on a picture will go down again! The cool yet overwhelming thing about art is that, there are always hundreds of building blocks. Form, composition, ambient occlusion, saturation, hue, light balance, line form...... and those are just the *some* of the generalised *categories*. And each category will have it's own subsection of building blocks! And then those blocks will interact with each other to create completely new area of expertise! This is crazy! Marcille sketch page took me only 3 hours to create because I am already quite familiar with linework - I have drawn 3-4 comicbooks worth of linework. This also means I am familiar with believable anatomy, more or less, which got utilised in the Asterism cover - the main bulk of linework got created during a 3h livestream. So.... what's the answer.... "It's all relative" is so unsatisfactory and probably not what you looked for. But you can draw something in 3 days and kill your body over it. Or you can become an expert in a field and dish the same picture out effortlessly in 8 hours. You can also split that 8h block over multiple days bringing you back up to 3 days. You could even add a whole day of visual research which might make your picture only marginally better. And even if we calculate it in terms of raw working time, pen-to-paper, like a self-inflicted capitalist tumor, that time can fluctuate still due to personal visual library and knowledge base. If I asked Tom Fox how long it takes for him to create his sketch pages his answer would probably be downward of 30 minutes. Yet I need whole 3 hours to create something *less* anatomically correct than him. And so here we are at the end of this perhaps unnecessary essay. And all we learned is this: it depends. Dry, not nuanced tl;dr, my personal timings: single sketch - 30mins; single linework pic 1-2h; Cellshaded illust - 16h; Rendered illust: 20-25h.

108 notes · View notes

simply-wlw-kpopstan · 9 months ago

Text

6. letters

⚠️ Spoilers ahead, drug overdose is mentioned

The next morning you woke up before your alarm. As you say up from the bed your eyes fell on harin's sleeping body. Maybe she could let go of the past, make things right step by step. Jaeun would forgive her bu the rest ? You understand why she wants to transfer but the thought of letting her go after yesterday hurts you.

It was 5 a.m so you still had an hour before you had to leave for school. You got up and went to the kitchen to prepare some coffee and breakfast. Sharing that room together had some perks because now you know what she likes to eat. As you're preparing the food harin walls in the kitchen yawning. She walks up to you without a word and hugs you from behind, placing her head on your shoulder and watches what you're doing.

"good morning, I made some coffee if you want some and breakfast will be ready soon" you turn your head when you're done talking and planted a kiss on her cheek. She hummed as a response and tightened her hold on you, "What's wrong"

"I woke up and you weren't there."

Oh. You fought back a ridiculous big smile and turned around in her arms, "i'm sorry. I thought you would be asleep for a bit longer, My plan was making breakfast and then waking you up."

harin's eyes focus on the fruit and pancakes you had made. "it's okay." she leaned down stealing a kiss before sitting down on one of the chairs at the kitchen island. She poured coffee for the both of you and grabbed some food. As you're sipping your coffee you notice her demeanor change slightly, "I can't come to school with you. I need to go home and take care of some stuff."

"will I see you again if you transfer?" you hoped she would just go to another school nearby but the news of the school was everywhere.

"no. I'd have to go international. My dad had mentioned an ivy league school but I didn't want to leave back then." back then. When everything was under her control and nobody knew. " I have something for you." she took a piece of paper out of her pants and slipped it to you," don't read it yet."she quickly said as you were unfolding the piece.

" when do I open it? " you raised an eyebrow.

" later. I'm going home and if I don't show up tomorrow you can read it."

" why wouldn't you show up? What are you going to do? " you got worried at the thought of her getting hurt.

"Things go fast with my family. For all I know they could put me on a plane the moment I say the word transfer." she finished her plate and got up from her chair, walked around the island and kissed you, " i really have to go before my parents leave for work. The sooner this gets sorted the better. "

You pull her in again before she can pull away. If this is the last time you can kiss her then you will make sure it's better than a quick peck. You cup her face as your lips moved against one anothers, your thumbs softly caressing her cheeks and her hands on top of yours. "I love you" you rest your forehead against hers as you said it for the second time to her, " no matter what happens you remember that okay? You'll always have me." she pulls away from you and makes a move to the door but you couldn't just let her go, "wait! Give me just a second, I have something for you too" you stood up and ran to your room to find a bracelet you had made weeks ago. you run back and motion for her to give her wrist, "I know it's not your usual designer bracelets but I made this a while ago and I want you to have it."

She looks down at it as you clasped it shut, "i love it" she twirls it around and you see her smile at the little symbol. "really? A pyramid?"

"what? It could be a regular triangle?" She glares at you and you laugh, "fine it is. I may not have liked the game but it's kind of the start of our story. I want you to have it, so you can think about me whenever you see it. To remind you, you're never truly alone. I'll always be there."

She smiled at you and pulls you in for a last kiss before leaving your place. Just like she said harin didn't show up at the end of the day, you wanted to believe that maybe she was running late so you waited one more day. At school rumors started to fly around about jaeun and suji being involved in a fire somewhere but you didn't really believe it unless they say something themselves. It wasn't until they added harin Into the rumor that you started to pay attention. Having enough of the doubt you made your way to the roof and we're lucky enough to see jaeun standing alone.

"Hey, I know this might be weird but there have been rumors about you and suji. Do you know about that?" you leaned against the ledge as you looked over the school grounds.

"yeah, it's true." she nodded, "harin had texted me to come there, she told me why she did what she did and I had to watch what happened to her." jaeun sighs as she looked at your confused expression, " she took opiods, a lot of them. I-I think she was planning to overdose."

"no. No she wouldn't!" you shook your head, "she came to me and- she was going to transfer to another school. She asked me to come with her. but she- she went home to talk to her parents. She wouldn't"

"That's what happened. The Fire department got us out and took us to the hospital, that's the last time I saw her."

"you didn't ask about her? How she was doing? If she was-" your voice cracked, "I have to go." you mutter and ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind you and splashed some water in your face. Going over everything that happened the past few days, you try to find any clue and that's when you remembered the letter. You took it out of your bag and fiddled with shaking hands to get it open.

Y/n

I'm so sorry for what I'm about to do. I never wanted to hurt you and I failed to protect you from dayeon back in Busan. I'm on my way home to ask my parents for a transfer and I'll ask for the paperwork for you too just in case you change your mind. I understand that you can't drop everything for me and It was unfair of me to ask you. There are a lot of people I've hurt and i need to settle things once and for all.

Last night was perfect and I'm sorry for leaving like this. You're the most amazing person and I need you to know that I love you. I know I didn't say it back last night but I do. I was scared that if I told you I wouldn't be able to do what needs to be done. No matter what happens you'll always be my first love, the only person who saw the real me.

Remember that I love you and I'm deeply sorry for taking the coward way out instead of telling you all this in person.

Harin

The coward way out? So she actually was planning to overdose? Or was she just talking about writing it instead of telling you? Where is she now? You put the letter back in your bag and left school to go to her house. They could tell you more about how she was and if you could see her. It didn't take you too long to get a cab and drive towards harin's house. You buzzed at the front gate and a female voice answered.

"hello miss, I'm... I know harin and I heard about what happened with her. I was just wondering if she was doing okay?" You bit your lip as the other side stayed silent.

"she isn't here and she won't return."

"why? Can I get an address then? I really want to see her and make sure she's okay."

"I can't help you sorry. Now leave before I call the police." with that the line cuts and you're left standing at the gate of the mansion. The hospital, that's the only place she could be right? You open your phone to get another cab and once at the hospital you ask for harin but they say there's nobody there with that name.

"she has to be here. She was brought here with two other girls a few days ago, they were at the orphanage that catched on fire?"

The women starts typing in her computer and humms, "two of the girls were discharged and the other girl got transfered to a psych ward."

"can you give me the name and address?"

"no, I can not. It's a closed facility, no visitors and everything is classified."

You thanked the woman and sat down in the waiting room and looked up psych wards in the area. As you were scrolling the TV was playing softly, you turned your attention at the mentioning of Baekyeon Group and that's when you saw it was harin's parents. You watched them talk about her actions and how they were revoking the adoption. How could they do something like that? She's a person, a human being and not some item you can return to the store! You needed to find harin and quick but how? Yewon! You could ask yewon to hack the hospital for harin's file. You grab your bag and once again get a cab to return to school. You find yewon at the back of the library and sat down next to her.

"I'm going to ask you something and you can't tell anyone I asked okay?" She nodded her head and got closer, "can you hack into a hospital? I need to find someone and they said it's classified."

"I can who are you looking for?"

"that's the thing, they didn't know who she was so she's registered as a Jane doe. They told me she was transferred to a psych ward."

"I'll see what I can do." she smiled, "Just write down the hospital so I know where to go. I'll try to go this weekend." you wrote all the information down and were thankful she didn't ask any questions about who it was. Something in you told you she wouldn't help if she knew it was harin and you wouldn't blame her. In the end harin did hurt a lot of people but she didn't deserve to be all alone. She didn't deserve to be thrown to the side by the family that made her the way she was and you would make sure everyone knew what they did. They can't get away with this.

You go back to your class and took out your books when you noticed another paper with harin's handwriting.

If you're reading this things didn't go as planned today. I know you must have a million questions and are disappointed in me for what I did but I had to do it. To be honest I don't know what will happen after today but i need you to know the truth.

I didn't lie when I said I was going to talk to my parents, I left your place and went home. I asked for a transfer but my parents said it was too late now,My grandmother told my dad to get me out. She didn't look at me like before and I knew I couldn't leave it like this, she expects me to take care of this so I am. This thing between me and jaeun has been going on for too long, After tonight It stops.

I didn't write this before because I wasn't sure yet, I made the decision the day after I left. That's why I'm writing a new letter to you. You're in the art studio right now, I passed by and you were working on something but I couldn't get myself to walk inside. It's beter that you think I already left since I didn't show up yesterday. I can't make you happy to just crush you the next day. You deserve better than that, better than me. I'm sorry if I hurt you again, that I broke your trust again.

Harin

masterlist | next

#baek harin #baek harin x reader #pyramid game x reader #pyramid game

114 notes · View notes

aurumacadicus · 8 months ago

Note

i'm not sure if tumblr is lying to me or not about when you responded to my ask but i only just got the notification for it, so. if you're still doing the 1-161 stony ficlet challenge, can i request 123 if that one hasn't also been taken? ps i'm really loving the ones you've posted so far, they're great! <3

Thanks! It's been a lot of fun!

Steve grit his teeth as Tony carefully, casually prodded his thigh with the toe of his left foot again. They were fighting, and he couldn't tell if this was an olive branch or a deliberate attempt to make him lose his cool.

They didn't fight often. They argued a lot, of course. He and Tony both had very strong personalities, and they also had very strong opinions. More difficult still, Steve was from a different time, and while he'd made great strides in acclimating himself to the time (and while Tony had been very patient as he learned) some things he said and believed still had them butting heads sometimes.

Tony prodded his thigh again, and Steve sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. He would not give Tony the satisfaction of reacting.

"I'm not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention," Tony finally declared, prodding him again.

"We are fighting and I'm still mad at you," Steve answered curtly, looking back down at his book. He figured that was attention enough, with the mood he was in and their fight still hovering at the edges of their conversations.

The ball of Tony's foot stayed pressed to his thigh a moment longer before he slowly drew it back. "Oh. Sorry."

Steve slanted his gaze over at that, brows furrowing together at the tone of Tony's voice. It was the one he used when he knew he'd misstepped but didn't understand why. He looked genuinely upset before his emotional shutters came back down as he returned his gaze to his tablet. He pulled his feet in closer, tucking himself tighter into the corner of the couch.

Steve watched him, considering, then carefully asked, "We... are still fighting, aren't we?"

"Of course. Obviously," Tony scoffed, prodding at his screen a little harder than he usually might.

Steve waited a beat, but Tony didn't plow on like he usually did when he was angry. He'd had no problem shouting for hours yesterday, but Steve had no doubt he'd come up with new things to shout if he was still very upset. He cast around his mind for what Tony's sudden change in heart and remembered, frowning, that Colonel Rhodes had huffed out a frustrated, 'well, his parents never apologized to each other, at least not in front of him, so he thinks fights just stop eventually and you carry on as usual.'

Tony must have just been... ready for things to carry on as usual. Steve set his book in his lap and sighed again, tipping his head against the back of the couch. He'd been the second one to sit down on the couch. Tony must have thought that was an olive branch. And maybe it had been, he realized, turning to look at Tony again. Maybe, unconsciously, he'd been ready to end the fight, too. But not like Tony wanted, where they simply stopped talking about it and returned to life as normal.

"I'm sorry," Steve said, because he was. His ma always said it took two people to fight, after all.

Tony prodded at his tablet a couple more times, then turned his head a little, peering at him out of the corner of his eye. "...For what?" he finally asked, skeptical.

"For fighting," Steve answered simply. He'd learned early on that if he said too much, Tony would have more to read into.

Tony turned his head away, then looked back at him, eyes narrowed. "...I'm... sorry... too," he finally said, slowly, like he was waiting for Steve to spring some sort of trap after each word.

It hurt a little, Steve could admit to himself. But luckily, he'd learned that it wasn't his own shortcomings as a boyfriend that caused Tony to be suspicious of something he thought was a good thing; the lists of people who had hurt Tony in the past were all available online, after all. Not necessarily under that label, but Steve was pretty good at reading between the lines.

And it was a step in the right direction, Steve figured. Acknowledging their wrongs to each other was certainly better than just letting them go unsaid. They could have a discussion about it later, when the hurt wasn't so fresh and they had time to decompress.

Until then, Steve reached out to grab Tony's ankle and drag his leg back out, and Tony squawked as he was pulled across the cushions. "C'mere."

"Brute!" Tony howled, trying to claw his way back across the couch, but Steve's grip on his leg was immovable. "Stop fucking dragging me everywhere you want me, you neanderthal, I--"

"You what?" Steve asked, flipping him easily, and immediately dug his thumbs into Tony's arch, exactly where he knew Tony got sorest. Tony let out a moan, and Steve knew he had won, at least for the moment.

#aurumacadicus answers #daeshikoba #1-161 stony ficlet challenge #stony

75 notes · View notes

laswells-ashtray · 9 days ago

Note

Possible angst?

John has a shitty day and, in a moment of drunken stupor, accidentally lashes out against someone he holds dear. He spirals, paranoid of becoming his father, and retreats (physically or emotionally). Whether it ends in fluff or angst is up to you /sugg

He hadn't meant to snap at Nikolai, never once has he properly snapped at Nikolai. And he wants to die. He wants someone to take him out into a field and put him out of his misery, he isn't worth the blood that would stain the floor at base.

But Gaz almost took a knife to the throat on their last mission, he'd been sniping at Kate for their lack of intel as if it were her fault that the mission was a shit show and to top it all off, 19 years ago he'd gotten the call that they'd found his father dead in a puddle of his own vodka scented vomit.

Nik was trying to be patient with him, trying to talk him out of frantically planning their next mission with what little new information he had and instead take a break and allow the bruise he'd taken to calling a body a rest. He'd all bit bitten the Russian's head off with misplaced frustration.

"Will you fucking stop?! Jesus Christ, I don't need you fucking suffocating me when I'm trying to do my bloody job. You never pull back, do you? Years of you constantly breathing down my fucking neck and you never piss off."

The worst part had been Nikolai's reaction, the other man hadn't flinched, he'd barely blinked. He'd simply nodded and stepped back, looking at John like he was a pissy little sprog, red faced and roaring.

"Ah, I see. I will return when you are no longer so... irritated."

It hadn't been fair of him, not in the slightest. Nikolai had only been trying to help him and in John's selfish searing fit of anger he'd attacked the closest person in his line of sight. Years of waiting Nikolai wait for their relationship to develop due to John's cowardice and he'd thrown it back in the other man's face without a second thought.

Unnecessary cruelty was a skill he'd gained from his father.

He'd spent an hour at his desk trying to figure out how their next mission was going to work with half the intel and names they needed missing but he couldn't. He couldn't get past the churning feeling of shame in his gut that threatened to rise up the back of his throat. A part of him wanted to hunt down Nikolai and grovel, the other vicious part hoped that his partner was already gone leaving john behind him the way he deserved. Anyone that spent any amount of time with him knew better than to stick around. There was something infectious about John Price, everyone around him seemed to deteriorate after meeting him. He half expected flowers to wilt and die whenever he walked by. Someone had once described Price Sr. as a life without virtue, it appeared the trait was inheritable. Like a cancer that only ate away at the people around him instead of letting him die as he so desperately pleaded.

So, he had retreated back to his room and like the man he was raised to be, he drank. Living up to the name. Drinking on an empty stomach as someone who'd been kicked in the head earlier was far from his best idea but drunken self loathing always felt better.

If it weren't for the fact that he was filled with such a severe self disgust that it made him nauseous then he'd usually be at the drunken point of locating the nearest takeaway and ordering food he'd only eat half of.

His boots had been kicked off and abandoned on the floor, his arse was parked on the floor as he leaned back against his bed and tried to stare a hole through the ceiling. Something could be said about him looking upwards to God but he had found the best way to get the last whisky out of the bottle was to tip it upside down and face up. He was no man of God, he was a man who's sorrow lay at the bottom of a bottle.

His thoughts kept drifting back to Nik. The man who had been nothing but kind and loving to him only to be met with John doing his best impression of his father. Maybe it wasn't his father anymore, the high likelihood at his grown age was that it was John. It's his problem now. He's an abusive drunk who capitalises the misery of those around him looking for unity in anguish. Maybe they'd stumble upon his body in a pool of alcoholic vomit, having suffocated on his own misanthropic tragedy.

A man with no family to plan his funeral or accept his ashes. Was there a line between senior and junior? They shouldn't offer him the kindness his father was offered, let him rot like the old man should've.

The door creaks as it's pushed open, something he'd been meaning to fix. At first he think's it's Simon, maybe the lieutenant had decided to hunt him down and rip him apart for the fucking disaster he'd thrown them into head first today.

It isn't Simon, Simon doesn't have a scar that reaches up from his pinky to his wrist where he'd sliced open the fragile skin on a knife that belonged to some miscreant somewhere back in Russia.

Nikolai looks down at him with a blank face, eyes roaming over John before the reach the empty bottle he's still clinging to. There's a tight feeling that spreads across his face when he notices that Nikolai doesn't look surprised.

"Nik- Nik- 'm sorry, c'mere. I was a right arsehole, fuck, I didn't mean it-"

The pilot is kind enough to close the behind him to save anyone from watching as the Captain John Price barely manages to push himself into an upright standing position.

He's still mumbling a slew of apologies as he approaches his partner, stumbling towards the other man on legs that were far steadier before he cracked open a bottle of Johnnie Walker's finest.

Nikolai should throw him back on the hard floor and kick his fucking head in, rightfully so for what John did but instead he wraps his arms around him and pulls the brit to his chest.

He can smell the Russian man's cologne, the faint smell of smoke from those cigarettes of his that Ghost refuses whenever offered one and the faint smell of sweat. He's positive that Nikolai is holding up most of his weight.

"You are exceptionally drunk, why?"

John isn't often faced with questions he doesn't know how to answer, he's built a career out of talking and fighting his way out of things. For once he has no adequate response, no smart arse quip, only a slurred string of half finished apologies and promises that he won't do it again.

He pretends his vision is only blurry because he's pissed and not because there are tears starting to soak the material of Nikolai's shit as John hides his face in it.

For what won't be the last time in their relationship Nikolai is far too gentle with him as he manoeuvres them both over to John's bed, muttering a quiet "We will talk about it when you are no longer drunk, captain."

It's more than he deserves.

#ask me about my relationship with my father i dare you #captain john price #john price #cod nikolai #nikprice #simon ghost riley #laswell cod #kate laswell #captain price #ask me how my days been... just ask #hurt my own feelings with this one but yeah been there #john price at his best is a soldier who'll get the worst of jobs done #at his worst he's a self loathing puddle of despondency #or at least he is when i try hard enough

43 notes · View notes

heyidkyay · 1 year ago

Text

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Two

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Warnings: Use of French from someone's whose ability extends to that of the primary school level! Hints of past encounters with substance abuse, but not really.

Authors Note: Part two baby!! I'm really so glad that you all seemed to enjoy the first part of this and can only hope you'll like this one too! I can't believe I've actually decided to give this series a go, already onto starting part four! But I loved seeing all the reactions to it in truth and felt like I couldn't not. Hope you like it x

Masterlist

Adi @/AdelineWells_ 2m ago

Coffee acquired and headed into the studio! Who’s looking forward to today’s show?? #MouseOnAMic

“Did you see it then!” Adi exclaimed breathlessly as soon as I trudged in through the loft door, not even giving me the chance to settle in and perhaps start on a brew before she was invading my personal space.

“Well, have you?”

I dropped my bag onto the settee and then followed suit by falling heavily into my favoured armchair, the yellow one which sat happily amongst the rest of the sitting area we’d first set up in the studio.

“Seen what?” I questioned Adi, the sigh I added muffled by the tired hand I dragged across the lower portion of my face, before I then knuckled the edge of my jaw.

It had been an extremely long morning, what with Teddy not having wanted to leave my side since waking up and then deciding to throw an massive all-mighty fit when I’d had to drop him straight off at nursery instead of Finn’s like usual.

Finn had actually gotten a last minute project thrown his way, one he hadn't been able to say no to, being an commissioned artist and all, which had resulted in him being unable to take Teddy off my hands like planned and me running more than a little late.

That, plus the trains had been a complete and utter nightmare!

Another strike was set to start soon and so the trains were in constant delay. Not that I blamed the workers specifically for it all, to each their own and all that crap. But still, it took me a half an hour longer to get into work this morning than it usually should have done.

I let my eyes slip close at the very thought of it, merely hoping for a moment’s peace, but then heard Adi sigh dramatically somewhere to the left of me, seemingly oblivious to the weary state I was already in.

She was growing impatient with me and I could feel a headache brewing, the steady throbs of it pulsing high in my temples. I noted then how much I was in dire need of a rather large coffee, or maybe even something stronger, but simply resigned myself to the knowledge that the headache would probably only worsen throughout the day, seeing as though I’d forgotten to grab my migraine medication out of the cupboard in my haste this morning.

I didn’t even get the chance to centre myself before a phone was being shoved into my face. Immediately, I blinked my bleary eyes open at the intrusion and winced at the onslaught of unexpected bright light it gave as I lurched as far back as the shoddy armchair would allow me.

“Christ, Ads.” I muttered, but the woman only persevered and I was forced to squint and try to make sense of the many words she was presenting to me on the screen of her mobile. My eyes widened in disbelief.

Without a second thought, I snatched the thing out of Ad’s impatient grip and straightened in my seat, reeling. “Shit.”

The Sun

Tuesday, 08:23am

Drunken truths- or rather, tweets!

After yesterday’s whirlwind, caused by a recent segment on an up and coming radio show based in London, Mouse On A Mic, where the host shedded their honest opinion on the behaviour of none other than The 1975’s lead singer, Matty Healy, the online world has been divided. Since the show aired there has been a massive show of support for the presenter, many agreeing with the comments made, but also, and rather unsurprisingly, there has been the expected backlash from the band’s rowdy fanbase.

Mouse, a pseudonym used by the show’s host, managed to make it onto Twitter’s trending page in the early hours of yesterday evening, after the segment on the singer blew up, and it was there that many came to battle over the honesty of it all!

The award winning artist himself later touched upon it, hours after everything had actually occurred and some of the heat had died down, in a tweet of his own! In it Matty seemed to back the radio host’s claims, stating that we really should ‘listen to the radio’ and that he is an evident ‘liar’ as he’s been labelled many times before. He even went as far as to say that he was indeed very ‘sad’, which caused a mass hysteria of both confusion and emotion to spread throughout the media, some of it relating back to Healy’s previous stints in rehab and the many times he’s been caught in the firing line. Whilst others showed no sympathy at all.

No one from Matty’s band or team has yet to comment on it, but the tweet has since been mysteriously deleted! Our question is, where do we go from here?

“I know, right! How mad is this?” Adi gushed unabashedly as she threw her weight into the spinning chair beside my own. The wheels whined beneath her weight but Adi paid the noise no mind, either beyond used to the crappy furniture we’d procured since moving in or just too enthralled in the phone she’d since snatched back.

I figured it to be the latter.

“He was obviously so gone when writing it, but do you reckon it’s the truth then? That he’s probably getting shit for it right now?” She further queried, her voice filled with a childlike excitement that had me frowning.

“If so, why do you sound so pleased about it?” I shot back, tilting my head over towards her, “The whole thing’s more than a little messed up, Ads.”

Adi merely groaned at me in response, letting her head lull against the back of the chair before she then cast an exaggerated glance, a cheap look that clearly stated, ‘are-you-fucking-joking-me?’

I didn’t care much for it, in all honesty, and widened my own eyes in a mocking response, waiting for her to give me an actual answer.

“God, Mouse! Have you even seen the amount of subscribers the show has gotten since Healy’s tweet? We’ve already got a dozen calls lined up and we don’t even air for another hour!” Adi blew out excitedly as she pushed herself further up in her seat, the tight miniskirt which hugged her thighs rode up slightly but she made no move to tug it down, too caught up in her rant.

“We’ve gained over twenty thousand followers, babe! Twenty thousand! And it’s only grown since his tweet was deleted! Can you believe that?”

I scoffed. “It’s hardly something to be proud of, is it? Gaining traction off some guy who’s already got the world quick-firing at him. He needs help, not more fucking media attention. I mean, you said it yourself, he was clearly hammered whilst writing it.”

I got up to turn my back on her then, figuring it’d be best if I just got a start on setting up for the day seeing as we were already running behind.

In all honesty, I really could see what had Adi so ecstatic. The show had never received this much notice before and twenty thousand followers was a game changer for people like us. It would boost ratings and help garner the wider audience we’d been chasing for ages now. But I still felt guilty and was far from proud of the fact that we’d earned all of these so-called ‘followers’ off the back of somebody else’s torment.

Matty clearly had his demons, that much was evident. But in my opinion, he really didn’t need any more publicity. Especially on a topic which surrounded old habits and seemed so blatantly sensitive. At this point, I honestly wished I'd never opened my fat gob.

Messing about with the console, I silently wondered why I cared so much. Yeah the evident culpability was there, but the guy had it coming with the way he’d been acting. I’d just been doing my job. Right?

I withheld a frustrated sigh at the question, but then jumped an inch out of my skin when I felt a gentle touch brush against my shoulder, pulling me swiftly from my thread of chaotic thoughts.

Spinning around, I was met with the face of a guilt-ridden Adi, who’s glossy lips were pursed and deep brown eyes downcast.

“Sorry,” She said and then paused, “Didn't think of it much like that.” Her mouth twisted uncomfortably for a second before she finally smiled at me, clearly apologetic. “We should probably say something then, right? To the viewers?”

I dipped my head in a surprised nod before slouching into the booth’s chair with a defeated huff. “I mean sure, but what would we even say though? It’s all so fucked up. Thanks for following us but fuck you if you think we’re gonna chat shit about some band?”

Adi snorted, but her typical catty smile didn't quite reach her eyes, “Guess that could work. Sounds effective enough.”

I chuckled around a smile of my own, then hummed for a moment.

“Not really the big break we were looking for, is it?” I commented aloud, not really looking for a response. Then added, “You reckon he’s alright?”

“Who?”

A brief silence settled between us then as I scanned Adi’s bemused face, and she moved to settle against the edge of the table.

“Healy.” I murmured softly.

And Adi, apparently taken back by my answer, locked her jaw in thought before her eyes shifted towards something just over my shoulder. “I’m not sure.”

Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 22m ago Highlights of today's show!

>Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 21m ago Mouse opened up today's show with ‘an oldie’, in her words, and played 'Morning Glory' by Oasis which seemed to please a lot of us! She also asked how everyone was today, briefly mentioning her long morning.

>Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 19m ago The first topic was based around the Kardashian's newest season and was brought up by a listener who had messaged the show. "F*cking old news! We should have gotten rid of that show ages ago, I really have no idea how people can just sit around and watch it all honestly! So much unnecessary- and clearly fake- drama going on. Just seeing the influence that it has on so many young girls, as well as how much time people are willing to spend on that entire family, is just something I can’t comprehend or get behind, but have been very conscious of. I'm so lost on what it is exactly that has people feeling so drawn to them. It's mental!"

>Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 17m ago The show played this week's top 10 hits! Mouse making a very special shout-out to her son, who's current obsession is blasting Taylor Swift's new release through the speakers! (Don't worry, Mini Mouse, we're obsessed with it too!)

>Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 14m ago The famous "Call Us!" segment makes a return this week! Mouse dragged Adi into the booth, as per usual, and the pair spoke to a few excited callers. The duo answered questions on the newest single’s out right now and what upcoming films they were excited to see! Adi even ended up calling out Ed Sheeran?! Of all people, after a fan phoned in to rant about their need for a new album!

>Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 13m ago A competitive game of "The Impossible Quiz" broke out, which of course was won by our ever merciless Adi, and Mouse followed through on the losing dare! (Check it out on the Show's website to see! Link in bio.)

>Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 11m ago Lead vocalist and guitarist to Only The Poets, Tommy Longhurst, Facetimed the studio to talk about his band’s newest single, 'Every God I Pray To'. He's been a fan of Mouse and Adi since his first appearance on the show about a year ago now with the rest of the guys and it was so great to see the three of them together again! They ended up doing a Fan Q&A (which is up on the show’s Youtube channel now!) before they played the single for everyone listening in.

>Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 8m ago When Adi headed out of the booth, Mouse decided to touch on the topic of yesterday's show. This is what was said, "I just wanted to bring up what went down during the last show, as it- I don't even know at this point, really. It just spread like wildfire across social media and has since been taken a little out of context. The topic of Matty Healy did come up after he'd made a recent headline, having been pictured again after taking a couple weeks away from the spotlight whilst on tour. I gave my honest opinion on the subject, simply shared my thoughts, and I do stand by what I said at the time- as all our longtime listeners will already know! But with that being said, on this matter I do feel as though I probably should have held back a tad and bitten my tongue. I don't know Matty well enough to dub him as this or that, or to comment on his life choices- I've never even met the guy! But it is my job to speak out on current topics and I was just doing what I'm paid to do. (Cont)

>Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 6m ago

"… Adi was actually the one to show me the tweet Healy sent out last night, as well as the incredibly insensitive articles that were paired alongside it, and I see now that it's caused a bit of drama and sparked a few more unwanted rumours for him. I feel largely to blame. To all the new listeners, I just want you all to understand that, here and now, I do not intend on milking this particular cow, and I won't be saying much more on the matter. I only hope that he’s doing okay. And Matty, if you are somehow listening, I really do apologise for all the shit I said and for the crap I've probably caused you since. It wasn't my intention for any of this to blow up, but you seem like a good sort, so. You're welcome on the show or at the studio anytime, no judgement here. Now! That's enough said on that topic, I’m-" And with that, Mouse soon moved onto wrapping up the show.

[HOMESCREEN] 17:18

Facetime now Mam Incoming call

Messages 4m Finnleyyy Listened to the show on the drive home, you okay?

"Bonsoir, mon belle fille!"

I smiled softly at the warm and familiar sound of my mum’s voice, even through the phone it was always so tender, a massive reminder of home. Her accent was gentle but brought me an undeniable amount of comfort and reminded me of days spent just the two of us, stowed away in our tiny cottage by the coast.

Before I could even offer her a greeting in reply though, the soft smile I wore immediately brightened upon having a much smaller figure settle down onto my lap to grab at the screen.

My mother laughed when a set of familiar eyes and chubby cheeks took up the tiny box in the tophand corner and I couldn't stop myself from chuckling along quietly with her when Teddy greeted her buoyantly.

“Mémé!” Teddy exclaimed happily, full of excitement as he proceeded to crawl closer to the camera, all knees and elbows whilst he tried to better see his grandmother.

I honestly really did try to stifle every groan that wanted to escape me as he went, but I must've looked pained because I didn't miss the flicker of mirth that glossed the older woman’s ageing eyes once Teds had finally settled.

"Bonjour chérie! How have you been? Behaving, I hope." My mum spoke, her sharp gaze lingering on me for a second longer than necessary before she finally shifted her full attention back onto her already babbling grandson.

I let the two of them chatter back and forth for a while, tired from where the day’s antics had worn me down, but still listening quietly as I focused on my mum’s sweet smile.

It was days like these that I wished I could do more than simply phone her. I wanted to walk through the front door after a long walk by the harbour and see her standing in the kitchen. I wanted to hug her and smell the same flowery perfume she’d worn since I was Teddy’s age. I wanted to lay on the grassy fields which sat behind our cottage and talk about nothing until the sun finally set.

But just seeing her face would have to do, for now.

"So you have been good for your maman, non?" I heard my mum ask, and all of my problems suddenly seemed so trivial at that moment, especially in comparison to the beaming grin Teddy gifted the woman as he nodded his head vigorously in response.

I raised a hand to run my fingers through the toddler’s hair, fingertips tucking stray stands behind his tiny ears. "He's been fine- well, we had a little tiff this morning, didn't we Teds?" I alluded to and then laughed, closed mouthed and breathy, at the way Teddy's head snapped up to gape at me. "When a certain someone didn't want to leave the flat..."

Teddy's lips curved into an unhappy frown at my words and his eyebrows dipped to show how displeased he was with the fact that I had ratted him out. To his grandmother of all people.

I snorted to myself.

“Oh is that so?” Came my mum’s voice and Teddy’s eyes widened at her tone. Immediately the little boy whipped his head back around so that he could pout in the direction of the camera.

"No!" Teddy tried and I snickered, which only seemed to earn me a narrow-eyed scowl in retort. I had to, quite literally, chew at my bottom lip to hide my amused grin then. "I just tired, mémé! Need sleep! And Fin say no come over t'day. Gots to work. And I was sad."

“Ah, I see! So you were in a mood.” My mum hummed, eyes twinkling now. “And here I thought you adored mornings, Teddy! Or has it just been too long since you last visited me?” She gave me a pointed glance then, one I knew all too well.

Teddy, oblivious to his grandmother’s unsubtle attempt at chiding me, sat up straighter to once again grab at the phone I held. I sighed in reluctance but let him have it, trying not to linger too long on thoughts of grubby fingerprints and a broken screen.

Only recently had I had the stupid thing upgraded, not long after Teddy had violently destroyed the last one. The horrified expression of the young worker I’d shown it to in the shop still haunted me to this very day, as well blu-tack and parcel tape which had been the only two things holding the phone together.

"I do, I do!" Teddy rushed to reassure the woman, bouncing to further accentuate his point. I settled a hand on his shoulder to still him, grimacing lightly at the way his knee had suddenly been forced into my lower stomach. "Mornin’ I'm good! Mum makes soldiers like you! An' I see an'mals in the park when we walk to Finny's."

"That sounds like fun, mon cœur, and I'm excité to hear more, but that does not explain your tantrum." The older woman replied, and I felt the moment Teddy slumped against my chest, eyes downcast. "Alors pourquoi?"

Teddy shrugged silently at her, chin tucked into his neck. I tried to bite back my smirk and my mum gave me a sharp look for it, but it did nothing to dim the mirth I felt. Actually only encouraged me further, enough that I had to angle my face away.

The one thing I loved most about living in London was the fact that my mum could only scold me through the phone.

"Just didn't wanna leave, mummy." Teddy admitted, rather sheepishly in fact, which instantly caught my attention. But before I could get a word in edgeways, my mum was already there, saving the day. Like always.

"Edward. Your maman is there for you whenever you need her! You call and she will come running."

Her voice was gentle, face full of concern and assurance, so much so that I had to suck in a tight breath.

"Has there ever been a time that you have needed her and she wasn't there?"

Teddy shook his head, woeful eyes trained on the screen now, and I couldn't stop himself from wrapping an arm around him, desperate to have him closer. Teddy went without fuss and leant into the familiar gesture, resting his head against the small crook at my neck.

"See? She’s so wonderful, so very good to you, and she can only do her best, comprendre? So when she is not with you, when you are with Finn or at the nursery school with all your friends, she is working hard to make sure you have a happy life. It doesn't mean she loves you any less, chéri."

"And I do love you, Teddy." I added thickly, chin buried in Teddy's hair, "So, so much."

"I know. Just miss you."

My heart constricted tightly in my chest when Teddy tilted his head far back enough to peer up at me, his long lashes brushing against the line of his brow. I leaned in closer to press a kiss into his nest of messy curls.

“Miss you too, little man. Always. Things are never any fun without you around.”

"Really?" Teddy gasped loudly, as though he'd just that second heard that the Amazon rainforest had upped itself and decided to invade the UK.

"Big time." I faintly whispered, smiling when Teddy's face lit up.

He turned then, far too quickly for my liking, his entire mood having shifted upon hearing those simple words. "You hear mummy, mémé! You hear?"

"Oui, oui, chéri!" My mum replied with the same amount of emotion, tittering quietly to herself as she observed Teddy's catching excitement, "So lucky to have her, non?"

Teddy nodded vehemently and I just rolled my eyes at the pair, half in exasperation and half fondly.

"I think it's the other way around, I'd be beyond lost without this little monster." I quickly countered, tickling Teddy's sides and then laughing when the toddler squirmed in my hold, unable to escape.

"Stop! Stop!" Teddy pleaded in a fit of hysterics as I continued my attack. "Help, mémé! Tell!"

"D'accord, d'accord!" Came my mother's merry laugh, seemingly coming to Teddy's rescue even though she was more than two hundred miles away. "Le laisser. My poor baby!"

I relented but only pulled away once I had smattered a sloppy trail of kisses down my baby's flushed cheek. Teddy whined unhappily at the invasion and wiped lazily at his face with the back of his hand whilst I simply laughed.

"Silly babies." My mum scoffed without any heat, her smile radiant.

She looked just about ready to say something else but Teddy was already twisting in my lap. "Hafta go loo." He divulged to me in a not-so-quiet whisper, wriggling in his seat now with a strained smile.

I blew out a breathy chuckle in reply and immediately pulled the phone from his grasp, placing it on the arm of the settee so that I could swiftly pick him up and plop him down onto the floor. I nodded my head in the direction of the hallway and Teddy hurried on, but not before he kissed the phone screen goodbye.

I returned to the sound of my mother's sweet laughter.

"Je jure, il est une bénédiction."

My mouth pulled up at one side whilst I lightly shook my head. "A menace, more like."

"Ah! Do not speak ill of my gorgeous grandson!" My mum was quick to retort, wagging a finger at me, and even down the phone she could make menacing work. "He is magnifique, made up of all your best parts!"

I simply snorted in turn, rolling my eyes as I let my head fall back against the settee cushion. "I don't have enough of those to configure an entire being, even one that small."

It was my mum’s turn to snort then.

"Don't make such jokes." She scoffed, waving me away, "They forever fall flat.” Ouch. “You are beautiful, my love. Anyone with eyes can see that, and Teddy is so lucky to have you as his mother."

I couldn't really bring myself to reply then, instead I inhaled slowly and let my eyes slip close. It had been another long and tiring day, but then again, most days had me at the brink of exhaustion, in truth.

"Joli, talk to me." The woman murmured softly, her voice rang out into the now empty room, rousing my attention back to the phone. "I can see how tired you are, amour."

With another deep breath, I tried to give her the best smile I could muster. "I'm fine, mam. You don't need to worry so much."

My mum scoffed again, rolling her eyes with it.

"It's my job to worry about you! And you make it so much harder when you do not tell me what is going on. With you so far away, I can do nothing but call and pester until you talk to me!"

I sighed distractedly and raised a hand to rub at my cheek. I knew that she had a point, understood that she was always there whenever I needed her, but it was so hard to allow her that intimacy. She had spent the majority of my childhood caring for me, constantly worrying and fretting, so much it still often made me feel like a burden.

Moving to London had meant to be a fresh start for us both, somewhere far enough that I could give her the much needed space away from me and my many issues. But then I'd gone and cocked everything up by getting myself pregnant, and I’d only made things worse for us when Teddy had come along. It had taken weeks for me to finally admit to her just how terrified I had felt. How desperate I’d been for help.

But not once had she complained about my ability to open up, or lack thereof. Deep down, I knew that she probably understood my inner torment, my desperate need to not be a bother, but it didn't make anything at all easier.

Thoughtlessly, I threaded a hand through my hair, already feeling the knowing tell of a migraine that was starting to form just behind my eyes. I made a quick note to take something for it before I went to bed, otherwise I would be in utter hell come tomorrow morning.

And as I carefully mulled over the words that dizzied my mind, thinking on my mum’s own, I thought back to the last few days, about how hectic everything had been.

“Just a bit mental at work.” Was what I settled on, but couldn't quite stop myself from huffing as I knuckled at the inner corner of my eye. “I said something on the show that I probably shouldn’t have, and next thing I knew it was all over the news. Headlines and everything, can you believe that?”

Still in disbelief over it all, I just shook my head.

“I saw nothing. It wasn't anything bad, was it, should I start worrying?” My mum pestered with a telling expression, because we both knew just how quickly my mouth could get me into trouble. We’d had one too many experiences tucked under our belts with that, but what can you do really?

Instantly I waved her worries off, laughing lightly, “No, nothing too extreme. Well, not anything too vulgar or offensive, just shared an opinion on this guy.”

“Souris,” My mum dragged out the nickname lowly, a warning or maybe a plea, telling me not to add anything stupid to the rest of my explanation. “S'il te plaît. Do not tell me you said anything rude.”

I shrugged, “Not really.”

“Not really?” She quickly retorted, utterly exasperated it seemed as a hand flew hurriedly through the air. “Not really, she says!”

I had to muffle the snort I made in my palm, “I’m telling the truth!”

I blew out a breath and started to toy with the frayed hem of my jumper's sleeve, peering down at it. “Just, I’d been asked to talk about this one singer- Matty Healy, you might know him? From that one band.”

My mum merely blinked at me, before she ultimately shook her head, the name not ringing any bells.

I wondered, very briefly, whether that was a first for Healy.

“Well, I- I ‘spose I made an assumption on air, spoke before thinking really-”

“The usual.”

Barreling on, I ignored the sly dig of her interruption, “And probably didn't hold back. Apparently he has a rather large fan base though and a few of them heard what I’d said online, started talking about it. No wait, arguing is probably the better word.”

“Oh mon Dieu. Please don’t tell me you started arguing with these people! It’s not good for the show, for you! And what of Teddy, what if he hears the gossiping?”

“Maman, you sound almost as bad as me!” I chuckled, unable to hide my amusement at her worrying, “Stop assuming!”

She clucked at me in return, then signalled for me to continue with a roll of her eyes.

“See, the singer, well he must have ended up hearing it all because he replied to us on Twitter.” I revealed, peeking up to garner her reaction. “Reckon he was probably a bit drunk when he did though, and ended up admitting that what I’d said was mostly truth.”

My mum worried at her lower lip, letting a silence stretch between us before she broke it with a faint hum, “What else happened? Did you reply?”

“I spoke out about it a little more on today’s show; apologised.” I answered with a one-armed shrug, voice much quieter now. “But I don't know, I felt horrible. And I've never even met the man!”

“Try not to stress too much. I’m sure it will all work out. Besides, you have bigger things to fret about, like whether or not you’re coming to see me for Noël.”

I beamed at that, but still had to shake my head at her incessance. The woman really did have a way of rationalising everything though.

Just as I was about to add to that, I stilled and my eyes flickered up to the notification that had just come through at the top of my screen. An email. It wasn't too unusual to be receiving one this late, I supposed, and so I squinted my eyes at the notification box as I let my soft chuckles die out.

To: Mouseradio@/gmail.com From: Clientteam@/Primarytalent.org Subject: Scheduling/Meetings

Good evening!

Apologies for the late email, we simply wanted to write to you in regards to the recent claims made on your radio show, Mouse On A Mic, both yesterday and today, regarding the topic of one of our high profile clients.

We see it fit that all agencies involved should come to an agreeable arrangement now that the media have become more involved in the subject matter. Our team has since come together and written up some viable solutions, we believe it would be in both parties best interests if a time slot could be scheduled on your show within the upcoming days, in which we can gain an advantage and shed the right amount of light on the sensitive topic at hand.

We hope to hear back from you shortly and are wishing you all the best. Please do reply with a response and some available dates to this email address as soon as possible!

We are looking forward to hearing from you, the Primary Talent Team.

“Mum? I’m gonna have to call you back.”

149 notes · View notes

yangbbokari · 1 year ago

Text

Maknae Line!Skz stood you up on a date

Pairing: Maknae Line!skz x gn!reader Genre: Angst, fluff/comfort, idk Warnings: Nothing much but maybe a little cursing and mentions of insecurities Song rec: Fine - Taeyeon A.N: Requested by 🧈anon, sry this took so long😭 on top of being a student, I just procasinate a lot. Will this have a part 2? idk but we'll c

HAN JISUNG Jisung said that he reserved an expensive restaurant for the two of you to enjoy. But maybe you misheard it and he said for only you to enjoy. Sure you could say it's being too dramatic since he's only late for about thirty minutes. You would like to say that too. If he didn't leave you sitting at a restaurant ordering random plates to await his arrival for two hours. You were getting impatient. You couldn't sit here for much longer or you'd be kicked out. Five minutes, you said. If he didn't show up in the next five minutes, you'd leave.

Spoiler alert, much to your dissappointment, he didn't show up. So you had to pay for the dinner and leave a tip as a "sorry for wasting your time." It ticked you off. For the first time since he got back from tour, this was the date. But he couldn't even show up. It absolutely pissed you off. As you were leaving the restaurant, you got a text. Looking at your phonescreen, it read, Hanji💞

"Sorry I couldn't make it, Bubs."

ping

"I'll make it up to you."

ping

"LOVE YOU😘"

You felt the tears well up in your eyes. This was suppose to be a makeup date. So why were you now walking home in the rain? The soft pitter patter of the rain was doing a good job of covering the sounds of your shattering heart and ugly sobs. All the efforts you put into this date for it not to work out. You even went shopping for a dress just for this occassion. Now it's drenched from the rain.

When you finally got home, it was dark. "Guess he's not home yet." You thought out loud. Suddenly the lights came on and Jisung came from behind the couch.

"Surprise!" He shouted with a cake in his hands. His jolly behavior instantly switched to worry when he saw you in your condition. "B-baby, what's wrong."

Bursting into tears, you crouched down and covered your face with your hands. He also crouched down and held your face, making you look up at him.

"I'm sorry, Bubs. Don't cry."

"I thought- I thought that you didn't care about me anymore. Like you forgot me. O-or you possibly didn't love me anymore."

He looked at you guiltily, knowing he's the reason you felt this way. He felt so bad. So he gently place an arm below your knees and the other around your shoulders. Slowly lifting you up and carrying you over to the restroom.

"Ji! What are you doing!?"

He just shot you a fond yet cheeky smile. Gently removing your articles of clothing. "Jisung... w-wait."

"I gotta make it up to my baby girl somehow." Then he lifted you into the tub. "What were you thinking, Love? What did you think I was gonna do to you?"

Your cheeks flushed a bright pink. "N-nothing!" He chuckled and kissed your temple. "If I was gonna do that, I would've taken you to the bedroom. Don't you think?" No doubt, your ears were most definitely red now. "Whatever..." You mumbled as Jisung filled the tub with warm water. "What was that? I didn't hear you." He teased.

You just crossed your arms and ignored him. Even though, secretly inside, you were more than content with this new memory you'd be holding dear for the rest of your life. ~~~ LEE FELIX Today, you and Felix were supposed to have a home date. A little baking session for the two of you. You went out and bought all the ingredients that were missing. Even though you usually had all of them because of how much the both of you loved to bake.

Except on this date, Felix was running a little late. If he couldn't make it then he would've found some kind of way to inform you. But you haven't got a single text or call from him in the past hour and a half.

You stayed up for a couple of hours waiting for him. It was already half past midnight and sleep was beginning to take over. With a heavy sigh, you headed to bed. But when you got there, you couldn't fall asleep.

All through the night, you twisted and turned and even counted sheep. You couldn't fall asleep though.

When you lost all hope, you heard Felix tiptoe to the bedroom door and silently slip into bed. You pretended to be sleeping, not wanting to worry him. It wasn't long before he fell asleep and that's when you arose. You could smell the foul odor of alcohol on your boyfriend and it made you- Well not exactly upset but disappointed.

After grabbing your phone off the nightstand, you made your way to the guest bedroom. The time read, 3:48 a.m. You cried to your heart's content. He'd leave you second-guessing yourself just to turn up drunk. It wasn't until the sun rose that you finally fell asleep.

Felix woke up with his head banging from all sides. He knew he shouldn't have drank that much last night. But that was the least of his concerns. You weren't lying beside him. Where'd you go? His mind changed when he saw the time though. It was nearly afternoon.

He got up to get himself coffee when he saw the baking ingredients and utensils scattered everywhere. Fuck, he cursed himself. That's why you weren't there.

"Y/n?" Felix called out. If you were mad at him you'd sleep anywhere but your shared bedroom. So he figured that you'd be in the guestroom.

When he made it there, you were still out like a light. He gently laid down beside you and wrapped his arms around you. This motion woke you up and you almost leaned into his touch. But remembering why you slept here in the first place, made you scoot away. Felix didn't let you get away though. He only pulled you closer and held you tighter.

"Why weren't you by my side this morning? Why are you sleeping in the guestroom?"

Silence.

"I woke up in a cold bed."

Silence.

"Are you just going to ignore me?"

Silence.

Felix nuzzled his nose into your neck. This would usually make you laugh but in these circumstances, you were too disappointed to. Your boyfriend softly sighed.

"I'm sorry, Love. I know, I know I was supposed to have a date with you last night. But I was dumb and I forgot. I went out drinking instead. Then I left you at home, worried that I got into some kind of trouble. I'm sorry that I upset you. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

You turned around to face him. "I'm not upset. Just disappointed." You placed your face on his chest. Your boyfriend could feel the tears dampen his shirt.

"I know, Love. I'm sorry." Felix gently rocked you until you both eventually fell back asleep.

When the two of you awoke, he definitely made it up to you. You finally had the date you'd been waiting for.

"You're not allowed to stand me up on a date again."

"Yes m'lady." He said as he bowed.

You softly chuckled. One step backwards and two steps forward. That's the positive version of the phrase and you'd like to keep it that way. ~~~ KIM SEUNGMIN According to your Bumble date, he wanted to meet at 11:00 a.m. sharp at the small cafe by the amusement park. So where was he when it's already 2:00 p.m.? You thought you were running late when you showed up at 12 instead of 11. But he's not even here yet. For context, he's Kim Seungmin, age 23, and a hotshot. Were you being impatient? No. You've been waiting for two hours.

But then you began to overthink. What if he already left because you arrived late and he probably thought you stood him up. No way... right? Time was ticking away and before you knew it, it was almost already 4. You decided to leave before one of the workers got fed up with you ordering coffee after coffee.

Well considering that you were already here, might as well go to the amusement park.

As you turned down the road you felt a hand gently grasp your wrist. You turned around in shock. There Seungmin stood with a guilty smile. You were a bit confused. He just so happened to appear as soon as you were ready to leave.

"Umm... hey." He said nervously. "Oh, sorry!" Seungmin dropped your hand and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "I was supposed to come sooner but I completely forgot. Actually, no! That makes me sound stupid. I was just really nervous."

You just stood there, not sure of what to say. "Okay..." You held out the last syllable.

"Shit. Fuck. Sorry. I'm leaving a really bad impression on you, aren't I." He awkwardly chuckled before continuing. "What I meant to say was, I was too shy to meet you. Umm... I worked really hard on my look. I even got a haircut. The outfit! I spent a lot of time choosing it. I wasn't sure what you liked. When I was done, I saw that I was running late but I still had to drive for an hour. When I got here, I was so sure that you left because what kind of asshole leaves their date alone for 3 hours. But when I saw you still waiting for me I got nervous again because you look stunning. Then I felt like I didn't look good enough and all the time and effort I put into my look couldn't compare to yours. So I was stuck in my car contemplating why I thought I could come. But then I saw you leaving and you were too good to lose. So I chased after you and here we are. I must be talking too much, especially about myself. And you must think I'm a klutz or something."

Seungmin slowly looked up at you. "Sorry, I've been rambling. Do I... seem like a klutz to you?"

And here you were thinking that it was you. You began to chuckle, nodding your head. His face dropped.

"Oh God... am I really that bad?"

You shook your head. "No. In fact, you're everything I've been searching for. Who would ever think a good-looking guy like yourself would get this nervous meeting a girl for the first time?"

"Oh." He said stunned, making you laugh more.

"Well would you like to make it up to me instead of standing here looking so clueless?"

Seungmin immediately nodded his head. He was quite the guy considering his looks.

"Then take me to the amusement park up the road and I'll forgive you."

Safe to say, he was an amazing guy and an amazing date. The two of you were only able to enjoy for about three hours but it was enough for you to know,

"I'll love him for the rest of my life." ~~~ YANG JEONGIN After putting on your finishing touches of makeup, you were ready to head out the door. You had already calculated. Taking the bus there would take about thirty minutes so you need to get going before 12:30 because Jeongin wanted to meet by 1 o'clock.

When you arrived, you were only waiting for about five minutes when you got a text from him.

"Sorry"

"Can't come."

"I'll make it up to you later."

"Promise🤞🏻"

You sighed and texted back,

"Ok👌🏻"

It wasn't like Jeongin to cancel on a date. But you already put all this effort into showing up, maybe you should just roam around a bit. Just as you were about to leave, you got another text.

"Okay, now I feel bad especially since we haven't been on a date in forever😞"

The text made you chuckle a bit.

"It's fine Innie😭"

"No it's not😡"

You couldn't stop laughing to yourself as you read the messages. Your boyfriend only continued to send more texts, feeling the need to explain himself.

"Now, I didn't want to cancel the date."

ping

"But I have a bit of a problem.🤏🏻"

ping

"Well maybe not a bit."

ping

"More like 7 problems.🙄"

ping

*attachment sent*

It was a photo of the boys following Jeongin around. Trying to get intel on this date of his. Of course they'd want to know who their maknae was dating. They were all wearing funny disguises and trying to hide themselves every time Jeongin took a photo. Bang Chan would try to hide behind a lamppost or a wall. Hyunjin pretending to read a newspaper. Changbin, for some reason, pretended to work out in the middle of the street. Minho pretended to walk one of his cats as if he wasn't holding Soonie in his arms the whole time. The rest of them dressed as ahjummas and turned to talk in a group like they aren't following Jeongin. Jeongin had a little pout on his face.

ping

"These dodo birds won't stop following me🤢🤬 and I don't want to get you involved.😞"

The people around you probably thought you were crazy. You were full on losing your shit as you viewed the photos.

"I think they just love you, Innie😘🥰😍"

ping

"Because I'm just that good🤧"

"Whatever you say🥱"

ping

"Do you not agree😢"

Then you left him on read.

ping

"HEY!😡"

ping

"I CAN LITERALLY SEE YOU READING THIS😤"

ping

"ANSWER ME!🤬"

Welp. You'll respond when he makes up for the date.

313 notes · View notes