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lovifie · 1 month

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An Offer You Won't Refuse

Bottom Price x Top Gaz | Smut - 2.543 words (Back to Masterlist)

CW: handjob, meanish Price, blowjob, rimming, anal sex and a kiss on the lips hehehe

Price knew how important it was to have the team at its peak condition, and to do so; he knew it was important to boost the morale of the team and help with… pent-up energy.

Especially when they would find themselves tucked in a safe house, keeping guard to make sure no enemy could sneak up on them. Which usually required one of them to remain stuck to a window with a sniper, keeping an eye out for any approaching vehicle.

Simon was an expert at it, the man was able to stay in position for days if required. No need for breaks, no reduction of attention while doing the job, the sniper gun one more limb of his body.

Price was second to it, the years of experience making it easier as times passed, but as his responsibilities grew so did his number of distractions, making him lose his focus more easily.

Soap had his own approach to sniper duty, while usually the soldier would stay lying down with the sight on the scope, the scotsman usually remained seated using his own eyes to look out; swiftly moving down to the gun the second he saw anything.

Gaz struggles the most with the sniper position. Too restless, constantly switching positions, unable to stay still for too long. The captain finds it endearing how the sergeant would try his very best to stay still, futile attempt after futile attempt.

He knew it was a tic-tac bomb when he was looking out the window, still; he always loved to sit behind the sergeant. Seeing how he tried to concealedly rub his growing erection against the ground looking for some kind of friction. Cute.

The four men were used to spending months together, within the same walls more of the time or cramped inside a minuscule tent. More than once have they need to turn a blind eye to something that was obviously happening under the covers.

And just as many times have they ignored when two of them have suddenly decided to take the first turn to take guard. Whatever keeps their mind focused on the important task.

So when the young sergeant seems more focused on fucking the floor than keeping an eye out, Price is quick to call him out.

“Focus, Garrick.” His deep voice travelling to the man, the vibrations of his voice running almost through the ground to his dick.

“Shit, Cap’tain, can you… He groans, obviously aware he has just been caught red-handed. “Can you get in for a sec? Need to wee.”

“Don't lie to your captain, Kyle.” Price says, pushing himself from the wall he was leaning on to walk to the sergeant. He can hear Kyle groan, defeated. Price stands next to him, looking down at him and he notices how Gaz’s hips are elevated from the ground.

An evil smile appearing on Price’s face before he set his boot on top of the sergeant’s ass pushing his hips down making him hiss. It makes Price chuckle, slightly rolling his boot over the younger man’s body to create more friction between him and the ground.

He notices Gaz’s hands shake on the gun and he removes his boot from his body, instead lying down next to him, looking up. He turns his head to look at the sergeant, smile still on his face. “So… wanna try that again?”

Kyle’s eyes furrow, not understanding the captain's question. “So-sorry, sir?” He asks, side-eyeing him for a second before looking forward again; he knows he is already in trouble, he doesn't need to make it worse.

And although Price likes to pride himself on his self-control and ability to keep his instincts and needs out of his mind; he too, has fallen for the sergeant’s charm. For his full lips, honey-coloured eyes and perfect smile. The fact that the sergeant also has the best ass he has seen in his life is just a bonus.

That's why only Gaz is surprised when Price moves his hand between the sergeant’s chest and the ground. Slowly but swiftly moving down.

“It's important to focus on the job, Kyle. You can't be distracted with external things.” Price says, looking at the sergeant's face, seeing his slightly opened mouth.

“I know, sir.” Kyle says, eyes focused on the scope, trying his best to ignore the wide hand moving down his body.

“Better to take care of… the distractions, right?” Price asks him, his fingertips resting over the buckle, teasing him.

“Affirmative, Sir.” Kyle answers, fighting every urge to take his clothes off himself.

Price takes a long time to answer, wanting to make the man wait. “This is a really important mission, Sergeant.”

“I know, sir.” He answers, repeating his words. He moves his weight to his side, urging the man to move without talking.

“There is a lot at risk.” Price continues, after a long pause again. His hand still resting on the buckle, not giving Kyle the pleasure he so badly wants.

“Sir, please.” Kyle says, sighing when he no longer can see when all of his senses are on the feeling of his captain's hand so close to his groin. “I can't focus like this… please.”

Price chuckles beside him, his eyes catching how his lower lip trembles, pupils dilating every time his hand twitches. The Sergeant still hasn't looked at the Captain once, so well-behaved that even Price is impressed.

That's why he pities him, getting his belt and pants undone so he can finally free his hardening dick.

The feeling of the captain's calloused hand around his length it's what finally makes Kyle close his eyes, sighing at the satisfaction of finally getting the desired friction.

Price smiles, enjoying the little game that he has created. He was already aware of the power he had over the sergeant, blind trust and obedience in him; but still, it was a different feeling from seeing the man buck his hips against his fist.

His hand is dry, not even having bothered to spit in it; but Kyle doesn't seem to mind the burn of the dry skin against his most sensible member. His head falls down, biting his lips to keep himself from moaning, but his hips still move in a disordered rhythm, as if his mind was telling him not to do it but his body was moving against his will.

“Eyes on the objective, sergeant.” Price orders, smile still plastered on his face when he sees Kyle whip his head back up, eyes on the scope and in the search for any possible threat.

But Price's hand still moves along his shaft, tugging at it on his way down, making the sergeant move his hips along. It's Price the one that manages to get Kyle's hips into the rhythm, making him move them up when he moves his hand down and vice versa, his fist meeting his pubic bone when Kyle thrust forward.

Such delicious sounds and cries fell from Kyle’s mouth, urging the Captain to give him more, make him cry louder, thrust harder, make him unable to hold the gun. But it is his fault for choosing such a great soldier, because from his chest up, the sergeant is focused on outside of the building.

So Price changes his strategy, instead of working along with Kyle, he makes him work for it. He stops moving his hand, keeping it within reach but barely past the middle of the sergeant's thick length. It makes the sergeant thrust lower, his exposed tip rubbing the hard floor making him hiss. “Cap’tain…”

Price looks down, to where the angry tip of the sergeant keeps hitting the ground, the pleasure from his hand enough to make the pain worth it. But he pities him, moving his hand lower and engulfing the sergeant tip on his fist.

“Fuck, harder, please…” The sergeant whisper, his hands twitching on his hold of the gun almost wanting to move it lower along with his captain’s to fuck his fist the way he wants.

“Don't tell me how to wank you off, Garrick.” Price chuckles with an eyebrow raised, closing his fist just a tad harder than what Kyle wanted making him groan as his hips buckle.

“Sorry, sir.” He moans the apology. It was a delicious torture, the touch of his captain borderline painful but still making him unable to hold still, the gun that was resting on the floor still weighed a ton with the way he tried to keep his hands from slipping from it.

He just wants so badly to grab both of Price’s hands, making them cup his lengthy dick and fuck them, his angry tip poking through them with each thrust; spitting on them just to hear the squelching sound of his saliva between his captain fingers.

Instead, he can only shallowly thrust into his hand to prevent himself from peeling the skin of his dick against the floor, trying his best to keep himself from whining at the lack of more friction. But still, the barely there feeling of his captain's hands has him losing control of his lower body.

Price’s eyes are stuck on his ass, on how his asscheeks clench whenever he thrust forward, the sergeant's dick twitching on his hand with his approaching orgasm. He looks at the sergeant’s face, smiling when he notices he has once again let his head fall down. Eyes closed and moans sliping easily off his open mouth, and he decides to make him an offer.

"C'mon, sergeant... I thought you were pent up and that's why you wanted to change positions… I offer you something... If we kill this motherfucker before the week is over... I'll let you fuck the real thing."

And it is that what throws Kyle over the edge, splattering his seed over his captain's hand and onto the floor. He grunts as he does, his captain’s name spilling from his mouth in barely a whisper.

Price wipes his hand on the floor, propping himself on his elbow to pat the sergeant's butt. “That’s a good boy, you can relax now, sergeant. Ghost has been on the top floor for half an hour now with the sniper.”

Price still thought it has been hilarious to tease the sergeant like that, both with making him look out the window during the whole ordeal and with the way he took advantage of the neediness of him to give him the half-assed handjob he gave him.

What he didn't think was so funny, was when Thursday afternoon hit and the head of the organisation they were following got the top of his head blown off and Kyle turned to Price, who had almost forgotten about his offer and said: “My room or yours, sir?”

He still found it slightly comical, the way the sergeant was so eager to close the door, locking it, when he entered his room. Because the last thing Price was expecting from the sergeant was the way he ended up blowing his back.

It all started with the sergeant urging him to take off his clothes, sitting him down on the edge of the bed. The sergeant's hands were roaming his body like it was his possessions, and when his mouth entered the equation, Price didn't really mind.

He felt bad when he felt himself slide down Kyle’s throat, feeling mean for the excuse of a handjob the man had received in comparison. But then Kyle's mouth moved lower, licking his heavy balls like it was a delicatessen, and it was when he felt the sergeant's tongue probe at his ring of muscle that had him throwing his head back.

The sergeant had him in the most committed position he had ever found himself in; both metaphorically and literally. Because with him laying on his back, with his legs clutched to his chest, his sergeant tongue deep into his ass and his hand fisting his length, he has never had more gratitude to the lock of the door.

Price can feel himself clench, his orgasm surprising even himself, wanting to hold the sergeant's head to push him impossibly closer to his body. But before he can, Kyle pulls back, licking his lips and orders the captain. “Turn around, sir.”

Never did he think he would see the hungry and lustful expression on his sergeant's face, intimidating and promising enough to make him roll over easily. The sergeant behind him tugs his own length, slapping it between his captain's hairy cheeks making himself groan.

He uses his hand resting on his captain's cheek to spread him, giving him free access to his spit-covered hole before letting his tip catch on it. Not pushing yet, but he bends forward, coming to rest his head on the captain's shoulder. “C’mon, Cap’tain, eyes on the objective, yeah?”

Price turns his head to look at him, confused with what the sergeant means, but it's the smile on his face when his tip finally enters and makes Price’s mouth open at the intrusion that he understands that the sergeant only wanted to see his reaction.

Kyle chuckles behind him. “What’s there to lose, right?” He says, before kissing his captain on his lips, moaning into each other's mouth when Kyle slowly pushes forward. The both of them feeling more coy because of the intimate kiss than for what is happening below waist level.

The sergeant only waits until Price has gotten used to his girth before he starts to snap his hips, pushing in and out with ease and picking up the pace. His hands find the waist of his captain, using it as leverage to stand kneeling behind the captain.

Price's body is flat against the mattress, his dick chafing against the sheets, but with the way Kyle holds his waist, pulling him back to meet every snap of his hips, the only thing that he can do is moan the younger man's name.

Although he is aware of Kyle’s stamina, it still surprises him when the man doesn't seem to be able to tire himself out. The speed, depth and constant stimuli to Price’s prostate have him babbling nonsense, having come undone more than once at this point, his dick not even able to get hard anymore and spilling out onto the puddle of cum between his flaccid dick and the mattress.

He can feel the bruises forming under his sergeant's fingertips, but he can only grab the pillows, face buried into the mattress as he moans loudly and shamelessly at his sergeant’s mistreatment. It's after he comes after who knows how many times, that he hears the sergeant grunt, his thrust becoming sloppy and irregular, and after what feels like hours he feels him spill deep inside of him.

He can barely keep his eyes open enough time to see the sergeant pull out, laying next to him; only for him to slap the captain’s ass hard, making him hiss and saying: “That's a good boy, Cap’tain.”

And because Price is a good captain, and he perfectly knows how important it is to keep his soldiers happy and with the morale high, he knows too that he would definitely make the same offer to the sergeant in the future.

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romanoffsbish · 10 months

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Hear Me Out

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Natasha develops a bit of a crush on Shield’s interpreter, and it just so happens that her best friend, Clint, has an in with the woman for her….

A/N: I actually minored in Deaf Studies in college, and that little end bit with Natasha is based on an actual mistake I made in my class lmao.

Cheese / Movie | Sorry / Please | Bad / Bitch

W/C: 3,788

"Why am I here again?" Clint grumbled as he sidled himself up to Natasha as she stood just off stage. "Because, Steve is off on a mission and there's no way I was doing this alone."

Clint rolled his eyes as he saw his best friends smirk grow while watching the stage, she was taunting him for being so easy to manipulate.

"Next time you call, I'm sending you straight to voicemail." Natasha shrugged, "I'll call Laura."

Clint was about to rebut her threat, but then he was caught off guard by seeing you on stage.

"Why's Y/N here?"

Natasha followed his gaze to your face, and her heart momentarily stopped. Y/N... Now she knew your name, and yet it wasn't enough.

——

It had been months since she first noticed you, she was instantly drawn to your beauty, but due to the nature of your connected jobs she felt it would be unprofessional to approach. With every passing event though she felt as her resolve was steadily crumbling, especially since you flashed her a gorgeous smile in passing at the last one. She damn near swooped you then.

"You know her?"

Clint smiled, "She's my Shield appointed interpreter, she bridges the gap between me and others in my situation while also teaching the family and I ASL." His smile dropped into a frown the more he thought about the situation. "Does she do every Avengers press release?"

"Mostly," Natasha replied with understanding in her tone. "Leave it to Fury to double dip."

"Now I feel bad that she spends every Monday to Wednesday with me." Natasha interrupted, "Oh wow, poor girl." Clint shoulder bumped her then went on, "Then she's at the farm every other weekend." Natasha frowned, in part because she didn't know if you could be trusted, but also, because she was jealous.

"Don't worry, I vetted her myself, she's clean."

Natasha's shoulders lost their tenseness, but she still kept a scowl as she realized she had always had an in with you. But since Clint was primarily retired she'd been left out of the loop with just how often she'd been on missions.

"She's single," he teased, Natasha could never hide her feelings from him. "That's cool," but she would be damned if she wouldn't try.

He sighed, ready to give her a little pep talk, but then the crowd roared with applause and he saw you were carefully descending the stage.

"Y/N!" Natasha glared at him, but fortunately you didn't catch it as you happily trotted over. You smiled, but only waved in greeting.

"I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Nat."

"Natasha," the redhead cooly corrected.

You titled your head, and furrowed your brows. Natasha watched in amusement when Clint knowingly huffed as he watched you. With your pointer finger you tapped your chest, then rose it to flick at the sky while shaking your head.

You understood him just fine...

Clint rolled his eyes, then did his very best to sign his introduction once more. Your eyes lit up at his improvements, and Natasha watched the older mans eyes also beaming with pride. She was certain she needed to know you now, because the old man was as a certified grump, but you still managed to make him smile.

"I'm Y/N," you finally spoke, and the redhead nearly fell to her knees at your voice. You had extended your hand out in greeting, but she was too enamored by you as a whole. So, you awkwardly cleared your throat while going to pull it away but she latched on just in time.

"Natasha," she finally offered her name, even though you knew it from not only Clint's intro, but also because you worked for her boss.

"I know," you giggled, and allowed her to keep holding onto your hand well beyond the shake. "You're kind of who I was defending on stage."

The redhead blushed and Clint was speechless.

"Right," she chuckled, and felt her entire body warm from embarrassment. Then, you gently squeezed her hand and she realized she had yet to let it go. Which only made her feel hotter.

The redhead dropped it, and if she wasn't so mortified by her horrible game she'd have seen the way you momentarily frowned at the loss.

"It's lovely to finally meet you Natasha, Clinton here has told me so much about you." You ratted the old man out for his gossiping. Nat narrowed her eyes at the man, curious on his intentions to have ever mentioned her to you.

"Don't worry, it's nothing too bad," you teased her and she met your eyes to see the honesty. "I'd stick around and get to know you myself, but unfortunately I have to meet with Fury, and sign yet another NDA since agents can't seem to keep their mouths shut around me."

"I'm sure Fury can wait," Natasha blurted, and that shocked all three of you. Clint smirked, Natasha's gaze fell to the ground, and you couldn't stop smiling thinking about how she wanted you to stay. The hand holding, and blush were not enough to convince you that the attraction was mutual, but now, you grew sure.

"He very well could," you theorized playfully, and the redhead looked to you with a smile. "But we all know that it's a bad idea to keep the director waiting. Then he'd be faced with the realization that his busy schedule is a facade."

The best friend duo laughed, both innately aware of the truth in your words. Fury spent his days doing a whole lot of nothing while the rest of them actually did the bulk of it all.

"I'm sure I'll see you around," you spoke again, the hopeful tone not being missed by them. Natasha nodded, about to reply, then her voice stalled in her throat as your finger grazed on over her warm cheek to collect an eyelash.

"Make a wish," you'd commanded playfully, and the redhead didn't question your childish behavior. She simply closed her eyes, wished for you, then blew the curl off your fingertip.

"What did you wish for?" Clint asked, and you watched the woman grow tense. "She can't say Clint, or else it won't come true." Natasha's eyes flitted back to you, and her body calmed. "Exactly, if you knew what's best for you, you would listen to the pretty woman Barton."

You gasped at her words, and nearly lost all of your composure, making Natasha slyly smirk.

"I'll see you this weekend," you'd signed to Clint, then left with a nervous smile and wave.

"Don't even," Natasha threatened through gritted teeth, and Clint laughed wildly. "Oh, Laura is going to be so ecstatic at the news."

Natasha left the man in the dust, literally, she drove off in her Corvette just as he made it and left him without a way back to the compound. Nevertheless, he continued to smile over the interaction as he walked back. He got into his car and left towards home, not even saying goodbye to the dramatic, fuming redhead.

He knew that he would be seeing her soon...

—

"Y/N!" You caught the little girl with ease as she ran down the familiar steps of her home. Lila began to ramble incessantly about her week, knowing the rules of silence affected her just as soon as the door was closed behind you.

You always took your time with entering just for her sake. The rules were important, it was the only real way any of them would adapt to the changes that came with Clint's steadily declining hearing. Immersive practices were truly the best when learning a new language.

"Ooh, and Nate got in so much trouble yesterday, because he flushed my dolls head down the toilet. Dad was so mad! Oh, and..."

Just as you went to open the creaky door you heard the slamming of a metal one behind you. Before you could even turn to inspect who it could be you got your answer as the little girl shimmied out of your arms and shrieked.

"Auntie Nat!"

Your entire body warmed when you turned to see her catch the girl just the same as you did. It was a bit soon to picture it, but you couldn't stop your mind from wandering off to thoughts of her maybe one day catching your own kids.

Neither of you had even confessed your crush's and here you were seeing wedding bells; always doomed to be the hopeless romantic it seems.

Little did you know Natasha felt the same way when she watched you with Lila from her car. For a brief moment she was jealous that the little girl looked so happy with you, that was her precious Lila-Bear after all, but then her heart skipped in realization that you'd already won all of the people that mattered over.

Except for Yelena, but she'd likely save that encounter for years down the line if she could. The last thing she needed was for the blonde to run you off before she ever got a real chance.

Turns out you already knew Wanda too, her other bestie, you'd been there for her after a bombing led her to a hearing scare. When Nat mentioned you last night the witch squealed, and begged her not to fuck this opportunity up.

Natasha had scoffed, acting nonchalantly about the possibility of a future, but her heart racing was a sign to the witch that she wanted it bad.

Once the redhead was stood before you it was like your mind was catching up to the moment. Natasha's hand fell to your shoulder, and offered you a bright smile. "We meet again."

"It's almost as if you planned this," you teased and she glared defensively. "It was my weekend off, it is only a coincidence that you're here."

"Oh," you chuckled awkwardly, completely thrown by the sudden change in demeanor. "Well, I'll make sure I stay out of your way."

Natasha internally slapped herself, she had no reason to be upset, but she was embarrassed by your ability to understand why she was here.

"You're bad at this Auntie Nat," Lila noted, then dropped down to follow you back inside.

"Y/N, wait." Natasha tried, but she was met instead with Nate glaring up at her with his tiny finger to his lips. He was shushing her.

Next to greet her was Laura, who pulled her in for a hug and whispered, "Welcome to the dome of silence, you can undo your blunder later—start by not being so defensive."

Natasha rubbed her eyes, and cursed under her breath in her mother tongue, only to be shushed once again by a smirking Clint.

Before she could retaliate (pummel the man) you'd flipped the power off, then on a few times to signal to the Barton's that it was time for congregating in silence. Natasha followed, and took a seat in the far off corner to observe the ways in which you taught the lot of them ASL.

It was amusing from the very start, she could see just why the wary kids loved you so much. The language was something you held respect for in your soul, but you also knew kids needed fun to focus. So, you almost found a way to make it a game of charades when the topics allowed you to. Clint and Laura worked out of a workbook for the most part, it was more like you were a tutor that sidelined as a babysitter.

Natasha watched your face, and how you were emoting so clearly. Every sign came with an expression, something you wouldn't see much of in spoken languages as inflection worked wonders to let others know your moods. In this instance she realized it was you setting a tone.

Today you were teaching them a handful of new words, and using clear feelings to do so.

You'd started with— "I feel," and signed cold, which you dramatized as you wrapped a scarf around your neck before lifting your bent arms in front of you, and shivered. Even Natasha had figured the word out, but that wasn't the answer, because as you saw the kids sign "I understand," you went on to sign "Why?"

Lila giddily raised her hand, body squirming in her seat as she quickly finger-spelled S-N-O-W.

You smiled wide, and signed good before you took your hands and imitated snow fall, your fingers fluttered as you swayed your hands down, then you pointed to your pointer finger, and the kids knew you wanted another word.

Cooper finger-spelled R-A-I-N, and you pursed your lips. Your hand took the shape of a Y, then moved from side to side, then your brow raised as your pointer fingers gently touched before separating fast. A quick way to say they were similar signs, but different in the same breath. Then you signed it and urged them for more.

Natasha already knew the alphabet, and with her spy training she missed nothing so she actually followed along rather easily with you. The widow quite enjoyed learning along with the kids, the words were relatively meaningless to her, but every word was necessary to life.

What really caught her attention was the little boy who'd shushed her earlier using his voice.

Nate was too young to engage in your playful immersive ways like the other two as he hadn't known how to spell yet. So you'd offer him photos after his siblings would spell out their guesses, and he would always get to shout the correct answer to you. To which you'd nod, wink at the older kids, then remind him to keep his lips zipped after as he hung off your back.

Nate snickered when your eyes bulged as you pulled the invisible zipper across your face. His imagination allowed him to believe that your lips were to some extent being zipped shut.

When you moved on to let the kids get ready for bed, you'd focused in on the parental unit.

Natasha gratefully caught your attention just before you settled into a conversation. Your face was rather solemn, and she cringed at the lack of your usual smile—she'd already grown obsessed with the simple gesture of yours.

She offered you a simple smile, and signed I'm sorry, or at least she thought she did, but really she said please and you took it as an apology. You'd merely winked and threw a thumbs up, your version of a rushed "it's okay," before you shifted to face an impatient (eager) Laura.

You were never actually offended by her earlier outburst, you actually found it quite funny.

Laura signed the lesson with you as if she had already known the material before you ever arrived. Part of you thinks she had the book and read ahead to show off, but the other part of you knew just by a glance she was brilliant.

Once you felt satisfied you nodded at her, and she traipsed off upstairs to help the kids finish up their bedtime routines. Then came your time with the struggling Archer, whom of which was the reason for these sorts of visits.

This is when Natasha's attention fell to her phone, you were no longer being silly, and truth be told she felt she needed to do some studying of her own to win your heart over.

Clint held up to your challenges, he signed with a sort of choppy elegance that matched him. Sometimes his signs would be angled wrong, and you would freeze the moment to remind him that sometimes a mistake like that could get him a black eye. For instance, bitch and bad were not too similar, but if you blinked it could be misconstrued, and somehow Clint found a way to confuse them often enough for you to need warn him. Not that he, an actual Avenger, had too much to worry much about.

Any Deaf person would be able to understand his flukes, but you feared he'd still get a stern scolding from the wrong person in a crowd.

Something you knew he'd take with a scowl.

After a half hour with the grumpy man you'd told him he was free to go. He literally jumped up, and lifted you into a grateful embrace as he spoke in a huff, "Fucking finally, I am tired."

"Language!" Laura and Natasha parroted Steve's infamous, inside joke, it spread around Shield so much that even you understood it.

The freshly cleaned up kids all ran into your body in some capacity, Lila smashed her chin into your stomach and pouted up at you. "Don't go?" You ruffled the little girls damp hair and smiled sadly at her. "I'll be back Lila, you guys won't even have a chance to miss me."

"I miss you all the time," Nate corrected you. Cooper jumped in next, pouting just the same, "You're like the coolest adult we know Y/N!"

Natasha scoffed, "I thought that was me!"

Cooper shrugged, and the other kids giggled. "You're our favorite Auntie, deal with it."

"Yeah Natasha, deal with it," you teased her with that pretty grin of yours just before you turned around to give each kid a final hug.

Natasha watched with an adoring smile, her eyes swirling with joy, and a twinge of hope. Clint caught her, and sent a teasing wink her way, but even that didn't stop her from gazing.

"Alright, it was lovely to see you again Y/N, please don't be a stranger," she winked at Natasha while hugging you tightly. "Get home safely please darling, obey the traffic laws."

Clint laughed, "Way to be a mom honey." He gulped as she glared, then patted you on the shoulder quickly before racing off after her to apologize, and help her settle the kids down.

The room was abruptly quiet again, and even with the palpable tension, it wasn't that bad. You moved around the room collecting your materials while Nat quietly observed you, she was building up her courage to approach you before you could leave the house completely.

Natasha politely tapped you on the arm, and you turned your head to peer over your shoulder to see her nervous smile. She swirled her hand about, you got the message and turned to face her fully, you nodded to confirm your full attention was hers so she lifted her hands to attempt to ask you out on a date.

Natasha shakily pointed at you, then back to herself to essentially say "You and me". She had no idea how to really do this, so she kept her Google search for signs at a minimum. The next thing she did was point her fingers out in the distance, something you understood easily.

The tricky part came when she put her hands together, the redhead tried her hardest to ask you to go to the movies with her, but she missed the mark by a simple position of hands.

"Sure, brie or cheddar?" Natasha blinked in confusion, her hands fell in defeat, and she looked completely disheartened. "What?"

"You just asked me to go to cheese with you."

"Oh my god," she groaned, her reddening face covered by her hands in an instant, but you didn't let her steep in her shame. Much like the first meeting you had her hands in yours, and you squeezed them in hopes of comforting her. Judging by the way her eyes glimmered you knew she was grateful for the gesture.

“Of course I’ll go to the movies with you.”

“You understood but still did that?”

You chuckled, “It was too easy not to.” The redhead dropped your hand then softly nudged your shoulder, “You are really such a tease.”

“Just wait for the date,” you winked, and the woman felt her body warm at the implications.

"Let me know when, and I'll meet you there?" Natasha frowned as she shook her head with absolute urgency. "No, I want to pick you up if that's alright, we can get dinner together first."

"Then pick me up next Friday at seven Nat," you leaned in and placed a sweet kiss to her raised cheek and tried to hide your grin at the blooming warmth felt just beneath your lips. Then you got into your car, and she hung into the window instantly to keep you a little longer.

"I'll need your number krasivaya," her tone was even raspier when she spoke in her mother tongue and she could see by the widening of your eyes that she had an upper-hand here. "It'll be hard to get in touch without it detka."

With a steady as can be hand you slid your phone into hers, allowing her to send herself a text message. As you took your phone back you saw she'd sent herself a selfie, you narrowed your eyes, and she shrugged. "I need a contact photo, and didn't really want to wait."

"So you invaded my privacy instead?" You teased the woman, no bite at all behind your words, so she once again shrugged. "You're very beautiful Y/N, you can't blame me right? It's honestly a shame I hadn't met you earlier."

"You know, you had ample opportunity," you giggled, and softly pushed her out of the car. "But you needed your best friends help."

"Hey...."

"Goodnight Natasha, I expect a gorgeous selfie in return, you know, for your contact." You winked knowingly before revving your engine and taking your leave only seconds later.

"That woman is going to actually kill me." The redhead held her hand over her racing heart as you drove away, it wasn't until your car was the size of an ant that it had begun to settle down.

"Jeez Nat, you're whipped!" Natasha turned to Clint with a tilted head, a move of Wanda's, while wearing her signature sideways smirk. Her narrowed eyes alone spoke of danger, but then her fingers formed the shape of L's, and she linked them and pulled them like a trigger.

Her research expanded beyond your wooing to include the torment of her dearest old friend.

Clint knew better than to ignore her threats, and took off in an instant... Natasha's laughter echoed in the dark fields, and mocked the man.

"I can't wait to have someone to complain about those two with," Laura chuckled to herself as she settled onto the porch swing with a glass of wine at the ready to help her unwind.

"Godspeed to Y/N though, that poor girl hasn’t a single clue what she is in for."

——

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #in the queue

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aphroditelovesu · 4 months

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Hello, can you do a headcannon Yandere (father) King Henry and Yandere (mother) Anna Boleyn with their only surviving son?

❝ 👑 — lady l: I really like the idea of them being platonic yanderes for a son, so I hope you like it! Forgive me for any mistakes and good reading! ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, overprotection, mention of miscarriages, murder and implied cheating and toxic relationships.

❝👑pairing: platonic yandere!henry viii/anne boleyn x son!reader.

Anne was desperate to conceive a male heir, her only hope of staying alive and maintaining the interest of the King who, after some miscarriages and the birth of a daughter, has already began to wander towards one of her ladies-in-waiting.

So when she discovered a new pregnancy, she desperately prayed for a son and that she wouldn't suffer another miscarriage. She could not bear the loss and pain. Henry was pleased with the new pregnancy, but worried. Anne had already had several miscarriages and was only able to produce one healthy child, a daughter.

Anne took great care of herself during her pregnancy, taking care of what she ate and drank and trying to maintain good health. The first few months were the most tense, with fear enveloping both Anne and Henry. As the pregnancy progressed and there was no miscarriage, Anne became more confident.

When the day finally arrived to give birth, she was anxious. Henry was also anxious and he was so nervous when he heard Anne screaming outside the room, he didn't know what to think. When a baby's cries finally came after what seemed like hours, he entered the room.

Anne held her baby on her lap and cried softly and when a doctor approached Henry and said, "Congratulations, Your Majesty. You have an heir", it was the first time that Henry felt complete happiness. When he picked you up, he was smiling from ear to ear. Not only were you the much-desired male heir but you also saved your mother's head.

Both of them would be extremely overprotective of their only son and those close to you will be scrutinized. Henry has become very paranoid about your safety and takes every precaution possible.

You are always by your mother or father's side, you cannot be alone at any time with a stranger. Anne, especially, would like to keep you sewn to her side all the time. She cares about you a lot and is always checking up on you. When you get sick, she becomes paranoid that you will die.

You are your parents' greatest pride and Henry doesn't try to hide it. He neglects all his other children and gives you all his love and affection. He takes you for walks, hunting and spoils you with all the perks that a future King deserves. In addition to showing you off before the Court. After all, you are the future King.

They are both very proud of anything you do. Any milestone, no matter how small, will be applauded by them. Your first words, the first time you walked and everything else will be treated with great celebration. Expensive parties are thrown in your honor all the time.

As you grow up, they become even more overprotective and controlling. Anne does not want you to leave the Court under any circumstances and Henry allows you to do so, but only with many guards. There were many threats lurking and they couldn't let anything happen to you. May God forbid anything from happening to you as the results will be disastrous.

Anne hates it when you spend time with other people, especially if they are women. The only women you need in your life are your mother and your older sister, Elizabeth. Although she understands that's a part of a man's life, she still doesn't like it and any potential mistress or love interest will be dealt with quickly. She is your mother, so no one has more right to you than her.

Henry is more than aware of his wife's actions and although he doesn't encourage them, he doesn't reprimand her. In fact, he's probably the one who encourages you to enjoy your life even if it always leads to fights with Anne. It was worth it when you looked happy. And your happiness is very important to him.

Your potential friends will be scrutinized and if your parents don't like them, they will leave. Henry and Anne won't sentence them to death at first, but if you or they are stubborn, they will be tried for treason. Don't you understand that you shouldn't trust anyone other than your own family? Your parents are the only ones who want the best for you.

Henry and Anne are smothering and protective parents but they only have your best interests at heart. They want you to live a full and happy life, but with them by your side. You were everything they both wanted and they would be damned if they let anything happen to you. England still does not know the fury of its monarchs nor the overwhelming love they feel for their only son.

#yandere history #history #the tudors #yandere historical characters #yandere the tudors #yandere henry viii #yandere anne boleyn #Platonic yandere henry viii #platonic yandere anne boleyn #x male reader #headcanons #yandere headcanons #henry viii #anne boleyn #platonic yandere

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rodolfoparras · 6 months

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Grabs you. I have a thought I’d like to share…

Reader being Price’s little guard dog.,, yk he’s always around, looking after him, almost growling at people if they get too close to him or say something he considers rude. Price just calling him his mutt ,and he knows reader will do whatever for him so he just drags him around and will use reader whenever he wants. Reader will absolutely demolish him if needed, desperate like a dog to have Price under him 🫡 I needed to let this out

Thinking about being Price’s guard dog and accidentally hurting him during a mission. Again, wasn’t on purpose. He had just been at the wrong place at the wrong time, with your claws accidentally grazing his sides that had left him out of commission for a while.

Price forgave you as soon as it had happened. He knew that having a guard dog by his side came with consequences but you couldn’t forgive yourself, had silently promised yourself to stay away from the older man (at least til his injuries healed or til the guilt stopped eating away at you. )

Price hadn’t noticed it at first, too busy with recovering from his injuries. But once he had fully healed up, he noticed you being distant especially when he tried to initiate something.

You’d usually make up some excuse or even pretend to fall asleep.

Price hadn’t thought much about it. It’s not like you were in a relationship with him anyway. If you didn’t want to sleep with him then that’s okay.He’ll just wait for you to be the one to approach him first.

But days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and Price had started to wonder if you even had a deal at all.

If you wanted out of this , he rather you tell him than leave him hanging like this.

So Price stalked you to your room, cornered you up against the wall and confronted you about the issue.

You had played dumb with him, pretended not to know what he was talking about but Price knows you like the back of his hand, knows that something is nagging at you. What kind of owner would he be if he didn’t know when his pet was struggling with something?

So instead of making you use your words, he had your actions speak for you, tentatively locking his his lips with yours before stripping the clothes off of you.

You followed his lead without complaints, slowly but surely tumbling into the sheets with him and for a split second Price thinks that this issue must’ve been all in his head.

All friends with benefits sure must have their periods of time where they don’t do anything?

It wasn’t until you were a couple of rounds in when Price had noticed something.

You’d been taking him apart with your fingers and mouth, fucking him into the mattress til his mind went numb and his body felt overly sensitive to your touch.

But you didn’t come once, matter of fact you hadn’t begged and pleaded like you usually do. Price had founded it a bit strange but you must’ve been too engrossed with his pleasure to think about yourself.

But that won’t do.

Good behavior like this deserves a treat so with the last bit of strength in his body he straddles your waist, pushes your cockhead past his puckered rim, and sets a steady pace with his hips.

It doesn’t take much before he notices you inching closer to your release and Price feels a sense of pride bubbling in the pit of his stomach as three words slips past his lips.

“Cum- ah cum for me” Price says between labored breathes while practically bouncing on your lenght.

“Cant- I cant sir” you slur out head shaking side to side.”please - please no” you continue to speak , mind delirious as ever but desperately trying your hardest to hold off from cumming”don’t don’t - deserve it,”

And in that moment a light bubble goes off in his head…the reason as to why you’ve been distant, …the way you’ve been acting ever since his injury,…

You were punishing yourself and trying to make up for hurting him.

“Bloody hell… “ Price squeaks out “Do you ah- do you think I care about that boy? I don’t give a damn just cum for me” he croaks out, now desperately holding off on his own orgasm.

“I cant - “

“You ah-you can and you will”

#alec answers #call of duty #john price x reader #john price x male reader #john price #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #top male reader #sub male reader #dom male character #bottom male character #fun fact I have shit tons of guard dog requests 😭

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marragurl · 1 month

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Saxaphone player Gallagher has not left my mind since the jazz night art dropped AND THEN Robin saying Halovian’s innately have good voices and Sunday used to hum lullabies to her as kids happened in the 2.2 special program, and I’m sure you guys can see where my unfortunate Galladay heart is going with this.

Whoever decided to make this art, I love you. I hope your pillow is cool every night, you’re never stuck in traffic, and your water is refreshing with every sip.

Also the art of Sunday with the White Gentlemen drink in the S.P.A.R.K.L.E jazz night event has also spiraled into me delusionally thinking that’s his go to drink. Which is hilarious since Robin has hinted before that he seems to have a massive sweet tooth in her letters.

(Sunday how do you even make holding a drink menacing, Sunday please get some therapy-)

So imagine this:

Pre 2.0 Galladay, where they’re both wary and suspicious of each other but didn’t do anything outright. Sunday slowly began to visit Gallagher’s bar whenever he had time to observe the Hound, initially on the down low just to get a sense of what he was working with and what to keep an eye on. He always gravitated to that one corner booth that every bar had with the most privacy, and just stalked there for a few hours before leaving. (Smol menacing birb in a tree vibes)

Gallagher obviously knew that Sunday was doing this (even though everyone else seemed to somehow completely miss him, Gallagher wouldn’t be surprised if Sunday was doing some weird Harmony mind tricks), and after the first few “stakeouts,” he bit the bullet and actually approached the table to engage with Sunday, on the off chance this was some weird “test of loyalty” by the Halovian to see if the Hound would swallow his pride to serve his so-called masters.

Nothing terrible happened, but he remained passive-aggressively polite when serving him, and Sunday remained passive-aggressively cool-headed in response. There was some snark of what dear “sweet-toothed” Sunday would want at a bar, and an icy reply of “aren’t you the master drink smith? Why don’t you show me those skills you boasted about?” which led to Gallagher being petty and giving Sunday the White Gentlemen drink, both for the story behind it being such a metaphor for Sunday, and because it was on the more bitter side of alcoholic drinks.

Sunday wasn’t too against the drink; it wasn’t something he would have ordered if it had been his choice, but it wasn’t a bad drink by any means. He couldn’t help but continue to drink it even after Gallagher left his little hidey booth to go back to the main bar, but he’d never stoop so low as to complement the Hound. Of course, he never ordered anything else from then on, only White Gentleman. In fact, over time it seemed to slowly get better, the flavors grew on him, and he couldn't help but look forward to it during difficult nights in the Dreamscape.

If Gallagher tried to needle him into a different drink, Sunday just bit back a “oh? Admitting defeat? I thought this was your best drink for me?” with a little smirk while Gallagher had to use every bit of self-control to not punch him in the face.

As time went on, the bar slowly became a place Sunday frequented to not quite relax, but to get away from the hustle and bustle of Penacony and his duties as one of its main faces. The stresses slowly started piling up, especially with the Charmony fast approaching in a few months and all that came with it.

Gallagher didn’t seem to loosen up regarding his attitude with Sunday, but he did get better at shoving down the visceral hatred he had for everything to do with The Family and Sunday as time went on. He didn’t get soft with Sunday per se, but he definitely kept an eye out for him, and definitely knew when to cut off his drinks on days where it seemed that Sunday wasn’t all that there for their usual veiled comments towards one another when he went to serve him his drink.

It started small, with Sunday staying later and later until sometimes he was the last one to leave the bar to return to reality. Gallagher wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, still wasn’t quite sure this wasn’t some weird long-term test Sunday was devising, especially since he still seemed to be the same ruthless Family member, the same Head of the Oak Family, when Gallagher was working as a Bloodhound outside the bar. For some reason though, within the enclosed space of this strange sanctuary, it was almost peaceful between the two.

One night, there was something wrong when Sunday entered the bar during Gallagher’s shift. He saw a bit of a crowd near the small stage that was within eyesight of his little hidey booth, it seemed some of the musicians of the live band were arguing? He watched as Gallagher came over, seemed to try to speak with the group before honing in on one of the musicians who had been making the most noise and seemed to be about to get physical with the rest. Sunday watched as Gallagher picked up the musician by the scruff of their suit with one hand and carried them towards the doors and lightly tossed them out.

(It was the first time Sunday had actually seen Gallagher perform anything resembling the actual duty of a Bloodhound. It only hit him that he’d only ever seen the other when giving reports, orders, or at the bar. Why was this so shocking to him, he’d seen the man’s arms before, hard not to with his slovenly dress and messy clothing style, as if he couldn’t bother to hide away his imperfections from the world, not like Sunday who refused to be seen by the world, to dare to show one thing off about himself despite his countless failings- he’s getting far too distracted by one meager showing of strength, focus Sunday)

There had always been a live music segment. Sunday was curious to see what would happen with the band missing a member, but was distracted by Gallagher placing his usual White Gentlemen in front of him before heading back to the musicians without a single word to him. Gallagher took a moment to speak with the rest of the band, who seemed to be coming out of their shock and took on worried looks. Sunday could only watch in muted shock as Gallagher went behind the bar and came back with a case, opening it to reveal a saxophone. He then went on stage with the rest of the group, positioned himself further to the side and in the back amongst the shadows within Sunday’s line of sight, and played with the band for the rest of the night.

Sunday couldn’t look away.

He was frozen as he watched Gallagher seamlessly transition from song to song, taking only small breaks to continue serving the other patrons before heading back in. Sunday only remembered about his own drink when his gloves began to get wet from the ice melting into condensation on his glass.

Something felt off within Sunday, and for the first time since Robin’s debut, he couldn't help humming to the music of the band, music that wasn’t of his own sister’s making. He couldn’t help but remember those little concerts the two would have, taking care of his little sister, his only world. He would do anything to keep the Harmony, to keep their family going. When was the last time they truly spent time together? Before he became the Head of the Oak Family? Before he couldn't recognize his own smile?

He was so lost in his thoughts, in memories he thought he buried, that he didn’t realize that it was once again closing time, and he was once again the last one left. He only snapped out of it when Gallagher came by to grab his empty glass, only quirking a questioning brow at him before heading back to the bar.

Gallagher had been keeping a quiet eye on the Halovian that night from the back of the band, in the shadows he felt the most comfort in when in the Dreamscape of Penacony. He had watched Sunday’s eyes glaze over, and the only reason he hadn’t felt offended by the seeming disinterest was the look in the other man’s eyes reminding him of his own when he looked in the mirror. The same look of shame, regret, loss, longing, of the wishes to regain everything he had lost. The same look he strove to hide under every bit of the facade he had crafted of this new self, but came back all too often with every reference of the Family found within his prison in the Dreamscape.

Maybe it was the shared nostalgia within his own heart, that little bit of his true self that he thought died when the Family tore out everything that made him who he was, that made him return behind the bar and begin making Sunday another White Gentlemen, giving Sunday a small nod to beckon him over. He wasn’t expecting anything from it, and he masked his own surprise when Sunday actually left his little shelter to come and take a seat in front of him at the bar. Even while out of it, Gallagher made note of the quiet confidence the other still carried himself. Nothing seemed wrong to anyone else looking at him, only for the lost look in his eyes.

The first time in the many months that they’ve been skirting around each other, and finally they seemed to be face to face.

It was quiet as Gallagher made Sunday his usual drink, a drink he had been slowly changing over the months to be sweeter and sweeter that Sunday never quite seemed to notice, or if he did, he never said anything, only seeming to savor it more each subsequent night. Maybe not even Gallagher noticed his own changes to the drink, subtle as they were.

It was quiet as Sunday took the finished drink, and it was quiet as his eyes slid over the bartop to see the saxophone case laying open with the instrument inside. It was quiet as Gallagher followed his eyes, as he came out from behind the bartop to take the saxophone out and take a seat in a chair only one seat down from Sunday’s. It was quiet as Gallagher began to play to his audience of one.

It was quiet as Sunday quietly hummed along.

It was quiet as they both knew that it would not last.

OK yea so this was all because I heard ‘La vie en rose’ at the end of the Jazz night event and went “Damn I wish that’s Gallagher playing on his Sax” and then we spiraled.

Uh. Idk what it is with me having a small ship moment which then spirals into a full blown writing session. My mind blanked out and as I came to I find out that I made a whole ass little one shot over here then completely forgot about it WHOOPS

So yea, hope my fellow Galladay enjoyers… enjoyed! I think I’ve slowly begun to crave… not domestic or fluff per se from these two, but after every AO3 fic being super dark between them (which I get! They are the toxic yaoi kings of Penacony as of writing this, no one is denying that!) I think I want to see them be explored in a more melancholic sense. Not quite the “forbidden” love angle, but in the “damn we kinda have some parallels, and maybe in another life we could have gotten along but there’s too much baggage and anger, both historically and currently to really even try anything”

I have this feeling this may not be the last time I write about these two… is Galladay going to be the ship that gets me to actually use my AO3 account?

#hsr #honkai star rail #hsr gallagher #hsr sunday #galladay #idk what I’m doing anymore #they’ve kinda taken over my mind #shoutout to that one ao3 fic where both of them go “’this wasn’t supposed to happen’ as they’re making out #that’s the exact vibes I’m feeling when I think about these two pre-relationship #of course we don’t run away from angst in this ship #everything follows exactly up until the 2.1 end credits scene #let’s see what happens in 2.2 #I NEED ANSWERS #ALSO MISHA #I WANNA THROW GALLAGHER AND MISHA’S KINDA WHOLESOME RELATIONSHIP IN HERE TWO #idk wtf is going on there #but until 2.2 explains #Gallagher is misha’s weird drunk uncle/dad figure #it adds more comedy to Galladay whether Sunday knows of/can see Misha or not either way #oof new writing idea #next time #I need to work on tagging #this is just another post all on its own #marrapost

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lumi-nescentt · 7 months

Text

Rumor Has It

Part 1 - Someone Like You

Pairing: Jenson Button x Reader / Mark Webber x Reader

Warnings: none

Words: 3.4k

Summary: Catching the attention of an F1 driver is already rare but catching the attention of two very close friends in the paddock can only be a recipe for disaster. Especially when they're both devilishly handsome and have their mind set on winning your affections.

A/N: This was supposed to be a oneshot but I got carried away so it's now a four parter

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Mark and Jenson were close friends, that was a fact. The two drivers were always joking with each other. Despite their competitiveness on track, they always knew that leaving any argument they had on track was the wisest decision.

It was almost an unspoken rule that any disagreement was to be left to deal with on track and for years they never argued about anything because they knew better. Plus, they never had something to argue over that required more than what racing solved. That was until you came along, you and your bright smile that made Jenson stutter for the first time when giving an interview. Mark was just as affected as his British friend but he chose not to show it to you initially.

Jenson had been on his way to tell Mark about this gorgeous and funny reporter that he had immediately been attracted to but before he could say anything, the Australian was already talking about you. All Jenson could do was nod and laugh as Mark described how beautiful you were and how you had smiled so brightly at him while asking him questions.

Part of him wanted to shut Mark up, to tell him that you had also smiled at him and that he wasn’t special but that meant admitting that he was just as ordinary as the Australian and Jenson hoped the spark between you hadn’t been one sided.

For months the two men tried to get your attention, each with their own method but the same motivation behind it. Mark always spent as much time as possible with you in the media pen, sticking around until you were done to have a quick discussion until he was forced to join his team briefing. The usually quite grumpy Australian seemed to soften around you, smiling softly and always finding something interesting to say to you even when he DNFed. He was really trying to show his softer side in hopes that you’d like him back someday.

Where Mark was putting his hopes of getting with you on a subtler approach, Jenson was the complete opposite. The Brit was trying every trick in the book to get you to notice him, shamelessly flirting with you on or off camera. His smug smile never left his face whenever he knew he had your undivided attention.

He got high on it, trying to find how to rile you up, how to get you to respond to his taunts. When it worked, the rare times you caved in and teased him back, Jenson beamed with pride.

With how close the two drivers were, they were well aware that they liked you both and that if you ever decided to reciprocate their feelings, one of them would be left behind and forced to let you go. Each of them hoped their antics would work, bragging about how well they knew you and how you would like them back someday.

Neither of them dared to say they’d get you explicitly. First, they didn’t want to jinx it by saying out loud a wish that hadn’t happened yet. Second, they knew better than to be douchebags and they respected you too much to treat you like some prize to be won. No matter how this whole flirting game felt like a competition between them, you weren’t an object to own.

By the end of the 2008 season, you still hadn’t reciprocated any of their feelings but neither of them was ready to give up. For an unknown reason, you had their undivided attention and there was nothing you or they could do about it.

At first, you had thought they were indeed flirting with you and it felt good to be wanted. It wasn’t everyday that two gorgeous men got out of their way to have your attention. But then when Seb, who you knew had a girlfriend he loved to death, had started to flirt with you too, you started doubting the whole thing.

Without knowing it, Seb’s need to tease his teammate and his friend had ruined most of their efforts. Jenson was known to be a playboy anyway so it was easy to convince yourself that he was just being his usual charming self and that you had overanalyzed every interaction you had with him.

Convincing yourself that Mark was just being friendly was harder because the change in personality was evident. Your colleagues relentlessly teased you about your capacity of turning the intimidating Australian into some sort of lovesick puppy.

Even with how hard he was trying, Jenson could tell you were pulled towards Mark by a force bigger than him. Maybe it was the age difference between him and the Australian that pulled you towards his friend. Mark was in his thirties and despite not having changed on track, the Brit could tell his friend was in another stage of his life than him.

Mark was done with meaningless flings and was looking for something real now. He still liked to party but there was something more serious about him. A steadiness and surety emanated from him. Jenson was well aware that he lacked that in appearance.

He was still enjoying life like there was no tomorrow and despite getting close to thirty, the Brit was still acting as if he was in his early twenties. He just thought life was easier that way. No one expected anything for you if you didn’t give them a reason too and it was the only way Jenson knew to avoid disappointing the people around him. You can’t really fail to meet expectations if the bar is on the floor.

Maybe that was Jenson’s biggest flaw, his deep-rooted fear of disappointment had made him create this wall around him. This persona of Jenson Button, the ladies’ man, professional playboy, slag of the F1 paddock, he had heard it all and basked in it. Sometimes even using it to his advantage to get what he wanted because he was after all just a man with needs and there was only so long he could resist when presented with a good time.

As both of them kept trying to make you fall for them, the months passed and with that the 2009’s season with it. With how well his career was going, Jenson was putting his everything into whatever bond the two of you shared. He swore he could touch everything he ever wanted at the tip of his fingers: his dream of being a world champion and his dream girl, miraculously in the same place.

In a moment of euphoria after he won the championship, Jenson had asked you to come to the afterparty to celebrate with him and all the drivers. You had planned to go out to celebrate your well-deserved break anyway so you agreed, thinking he’d be too busy to notice if you ever decided to show up or not.

Seb was the first one to notice you in the packed club, smiling at you before nudging his teammate who smiled at you fondly, the alcohol letting him show his emotions more freely. You watched as he closed the distance between you, navigating between the mass of drunk people with ease before stopping in front of you with the same drunken smile.

-“ Hey Mark”

-“ Nobody told me you’d be coming, if I had known I’d have drank less.” Mark apologised

-“ Why, scared you’ll share your deepest secrets with me ?”

-“ I have nothing to hide from you, I just want to be sure I remember every moment spent with you.” he smiled fondly

-“ That’s very sweet but don’t worry about the alcohol, I plan on drinking as well so I’ll catch up with you soon enough.” you laughed

-“ I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk. I wonder what kind of person you are then…”

-“ What do you think I am ?”

-“ You don’t strike me as an emotional or loud drunk. I’m hoping you’re either a flirty drunk or a very honest one.”

-“ Oh yeah ? Why is that ?” you asked, trying not to let a smirk creep on your face

-“ Because then I can ask you if you like me back and either you’ll flirt back or you’ll tell me the truth and I’ll know for sure how you feel about me.”

-“ So you really like me ?”

-“ I thought I made it obvious sweetheart but yes, I like you y/n.” Mark said, the pet name rolling off his tongue naturally

-“ Ok ok, just making sure.”

-“ So you’re not going to tell me if you like me back or not ?”

-“ I think you’ll have to wait until I’m a little drunk to get that answer, Mark.” you teased him

-“ Then can I go buy you a drink ?”

-“ If you insist, I’ll have a rum and coke please.” you said moving towards the bar to accompany him

-“ Go to the VIP area, I’ll bring the drink to you once you’re sitting down.” Mark smiled, motioning to the corner of the club you had seen him before he made his way to you

You nodded watching as his tall figure disappeared in the sea of people. You could still feel how warm your cheeks were from indulging in his game but you didn’t regret it. You felt good, the season was over and all you wanted to do was relax and enjoy yourself.

You started to try and navigate the crowd to reach where you were supposed to wait for Mark but before you could make any real progress, a very drunk Jenson arrived right in front of you.

-“ Y/n ! You really came ?” Jenson happily slurred, pulling you into a hug

-“ Of course, I did. Congratulations on your win Jenson. It’s well deserved.” you said with your head resting on his shoulder

-“ Thank you, love. I’m really glad you’re here.” he muttered before stepping away from the hug

-“ It’s not like we see each other at every race, you know ?” you teased him

-“ It’s not the same. I can’t really be the way I want with you because of work…”

-“ And what way is that, Mister World Champion ?”

-“ I can’t ask you out properly at work, this is the first time I did.”

-“ You were asking me out ?”

-“ Of course I was. You’re gorgeous, funny, incredibly intelligent and you drive me up the wall. What’s there not to like ?”

-“ Jenson. You flirt with everyone, how am I supposed to believe you really like me ?” you deadpanned

-“ I don’t flirt with anyone like I flirt with you, love. I don’t want to be with anyone like I want to be with you. I thought I had made it pretty obvious but I’ll do better”

-“ What do you mea–” you try to answer

Before you could finish your sentence, Jenson cupped your face with his hands and crashed his lips on yours. Taken aback at first, you stayed frozen not expecting the kiss. Once you fully realised what was happening, your lips moved on their own, returning it.

Jenson’s lip tasted like champagne and what could only be described as pure victory. You could feel him smile when he felt your hand sneaking on the back of his neck. The kiss was tame at first until Jenson playfully bit your lower lip, giving him access to your mouth. From there the kiss turned heated and it was a clash of teeth and tongue. Jenson’s hands snuck around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

When you finally separated from each other to breathe, Jenson looked like he had won the greatest prize of all. You tried to keep staring at him but his hungry eyes made you blush and you looked elsewhere, bringing your fingertips to your mouth, still not sure the kiss had really happened.

When you looked back at him, Jenson seemed like he wanted to say something but it was his turn to get stopped. This time it was by Alonso who wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulder before shoving a glass in his hands, unaware of the moment he had just ruined.

Jenson thanked his Spanish friend before turning his attention back on you but Mark was back next to you. You offered a small smile to the Brit as Mark led you to the VIP corner, his hand proudly resting on the small of your back. All Jenson could do was stare longingly at the pair of you as you slowly disappeared in the crowd, leaving him still troubled by the passionate moment you had just shared.

Part of him wanted to follow the two of you so that you and Mark weren’t alone but he hoped that the kiss would have been enough to convince you to choose him. He had made his affection clear so now all he could do was wait for you to come to him. Plus, it was his party, it would be a shame not to enjoy himself so he downed the glass Alonso had given him before following the Spaniard on the packed dance floor.

The night kept going and after drinking what Mark bought you, you decided to go dancing a little with Hanna who had joined Seb for the last race of the season. The two of you danced until your feet hurt because of the heels you were both wearing so when the pain became unbearable, you went back to the VIP area to sit down for a bit.

Jenson was still nowhere to be seen so you sat between Mark and Seb while Hanna sat between her boyfriend and Kimi. At first the boys were too deep into their conversations to pay attention to you but soon enough Mark looked at you with a smile, nudging your shoulder with his playfully.

-“ You looked good out there.”

-“ Did I ? I didn’t realise you were looking at me.”

-“ I mean you always look good but this dress looks insane on you sweetheart. It’s hard not to stare when you’re looking this pretty. ” Mark winked

-“ You don’t look so bad yourself. Your shirt suits you. It’s nice to see you in something other than your racing suit although fireproofs look crazy good with your body.” you blurted, the alcohol letting you say whatever came to your mind

-“ You’re definitely drunk.”

-“ What gave it away, Sherlock Holmes ?”

-“ You never complimented me when you were sober.”

-“ I did ! I told you you had made a nice move on Seb in Spa.”

-“ Sweetheart, I’m not talking about racing compliments.”

-“ Oh… Well you always look good in whatever you’re wearing so there’s a compliment.”

-“ Do you know what else I’d look good in ?”

-“ Tell me.”

-“ I’ve been told I look pretty good wearing nothing at all.” Mark teased, bringing his face closer to yours

-“ Mark ! There’s people around, don’t tease.” you whisper-shouted as you blushed, his face even closer now

-“ Can I kiss you ?”

As soon as you nodded, Mark’s hand raised your chin and he delicately pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was nothing like the one you had shared with Jenson. For starters, Mark’s lips didn’t really taste of anything other than just Mark. That wasn’t a bad thing, it was just different. Mark was also a lot less aggressive when he kissed. While you and Jenson had been battling each other for dominance in your kiss, Mark was more than happy to slowly and languidly kiss you, following whatever lead you took.

His other hand was resting on your thigh, rubbing circles absentmindedly with his thumb while yours were tangled in his hair. This didn’t feel like making out. You were just kissing because you wanted to. With Jenson it had felt like you needed to kiss in order for your heart to beat, in order to stay alive.

With Mark, kissing him felt like being in the eye of the hurricane. You knew everything around was chaos but the kiss gave you a little breathing room. It gave you a temporary shelter to whatever was unfolding around you.

When you pulled away from the kiss to breathe, Mark’s thumb was stroking your cheek. He pecked your lips before sliding closer to you on the couch you were sitting on. Now that the moment was pretty much over, Seb slapped a hand on Mark’s thighs to congratulate him for finally making a move on you.

-“ He’s been pining for you for so long, it was starting to get a little sad.” Seb joked

-“ It wasn’t sad Seb, shut up. I just know what I want, that's all.”

-“ Are you going to tell Jense about it or should I break the news to him ?”

-“ I’ll do it, just not tonight. It’s his night, let’s not ruin it.”

-“ Oh my God ! Jenson !” you muttered, making all the heads snap back towards you

-“ What is it sweetheart ?”

-“ It’s actually a funny story but hum Jenson, well I did too I suppose so, Jenson and I kissed a few hours ago.” you admitted, scared of how Mark was going to react

-“ Oh, Jenson gets a little touch deprived when he’s drunk. He’d kiss anyone he can..” Mark reassured you

-“ Earlier this year he even tried to kiss me.” Seb remembered with a laugh

-“ So don’t worry about it. Chances are, he won’t even remember it tomorrow. That’s usually what happens when he kisses someone at random without feelings.” Mark affirmed, trying to be convincing enough for you to forget about it

You were too focused on Mark to notice the look exchanged between the two other drivers. Seb looked uncomfortable at the statement and asked Hanna if she wanted to dance, using the excuse to leave. Kimi was glaring at Mark menacingly. It’s not like it was his business or that he cared but even he knew that Jenson’s feelings about you were genuine. So in his book, Mark’s comment wasn’t one of a good friend but a very manipulative one which he didn’t really like so he just stood up and left.

Now left alone again, you and Mark used the opportunity to talk some more, really getting to know one another out of a professional context. Mark was pretty funny and kissing him every once in a while made you feel pretty giddy so your smile never left your face that night.

When you finally decided to go back to your hotel, Mark insisted on walking you back which you accepted. You had wanted to say goodnight to Jenson but when your eyes fell on the Brit, he was hugging someone with long hair rather closely so you let Mark drag you away toward the exit.

If only you had stayed a second later, you’d have realised that the person hugging Jenson was none other than Fernando who was trying his best to hold his drunk friend up while Jenson’s body wanted nothing more than to touch the floor and lay there forever.

Now convinced that Jenson wasn’t serious about you, you invited Mark back into your room without remorse. If Jenson could have fun, so could you. This night turned into regular meetings at your hotel every race until Mark properly took you on a date and asked you out. Since the two of you had fun together and liked each other, you agreed to date him but kept your relationship private.

After his night of partying, Jenson remembered the kiss very clearly and he knew you had been sober so he came to the conclusion you hadn't enjoyed the kiss as much as he had. Or maybe you simply didn’t like him back. With that in mind, Jenson slowed down on the flirting during your interviews, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

Little did he know that by doing that, he was just convincing you that he didn’t like you like that and had just acted because of the alcohol. This whole situation just pushed you further into Mark’s arms and when you were finally ready, you made your relationship public.

Seeing you and Mark kiss for the first time was like a punch in the gut for Jenson. He had known there had been a chance of losing you to Mark but up until then, he was convinced neither of them managed to seduce you. Knowing that he no longer had a chance with you broke his heart but like the good friend he was, the Brit congratulated the both of you and only expressed how happy he was for you.

He wanted you to be happy more than anything. It was just a shame you had found happiness in Mark’s arms instead of his but he’d live with that as long as the smile on your face stayed there.

#mark webber x reader #jenson button x reader #mark webber #jenson button #f1 #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fandom #f1 scenario #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n

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respectthepetty · 8 days

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Pride Petty Watch - LiTA (Sky/Prapai) 2/3

It took me much longer than expected to make it through the first two episodes of Sky x Prapai's arc in Love in the Air, but Prapai called Sky his boyfriend out of nowhere, so now I understand that he is Manifest Destiny-ing his way to love, and for the non-Americans, that's bad. Like real bad.

Let me be like Prapai and keep marching forward even though all the signs are telling me to stop.

In my first year of teaching, I was told I couldn't want the grade more the student did. I was reminded that some students don't want A's. Some students just want to pass the course, and that's fine. I need to take that approach with Prapai because he held Sky while he clung to him and cried for the nightmares to leave him in peace, yet in the morning, Prapai slings it back in Sky's face and makes it callously sexual. Clearly, Prapai doesn't want points for Slytherin. He does not want an A in decency. He does not want to pass "Go" on the board. Whatever he wants is between him and the demons he is fighting because obviously this ho does not want to be saved.

"Let me help you" - Look at that! As soon as you let men go, they wanna come back correct. Asking to help instead of forcibly inserting himself. Wow! So you are capable of not making everything aggressively sexual?

I'm watching you like a fucking hawk, Slytherin, which if you want to pass this course, you will note that hawks eat snakes, so basically I'm telling you I will devour you whole if you make another wrong move.

"That's all I ask," he says as he asks for EVERYTHING. "I will not restrain myself next time." "You cannot escape me." "Has he blocked this number?" Sky, babe, hon, bestie, rob this fucking man in his sleep. Take the watch off his wrist, the money from his wallet, and the audacity out of his mouth. These are the queer wrongs I'm trying to support this month.

"You should be spanked" - So 🙃 . . . IGNORING THAT! As a lifelong member and advisor of Greek life (fraternities and sororities are different for BIPOC), every time I see these university rituals, I always wonder what is the equivalent of a compliance officer in other countries because This. Is. Hazing.

And now Payu and Prapai are just hanging out at university activities like THEY DON'T GOT JOBS! Payu has a room in a garage, a room at his house with a toy car collection, and a terrified mechanic hiding under cars, so the man has got bills. Prapai has companies (plural) to run, and an overworked and rightfully annoyed (always in red) secretary holding down the fort, yet he is on a little vacay. Women in GLs - big bosses and screwing at work on company time. Men in BLs - FORGETTING THEY HAVE JOBS!

*Regina George has entered the chat* So you agree? You think you're a bad guy to Sky?

Every time Payu or Prapai mentions getting a reward (for not assaulting the boy they are chasing after especially when that boy is in a vulnerable position), I think of the conversation between Uea and King in episode five (part one) of Bed Friend when King asked for a reward and Uea said "The fuck you just say? Get outta here with that noise" then he left. Uea would eat these men alive.

The thinnest of ice, Prapai. I can see the freezing water rushing underneath. That's how thin the ice is that you are on, sir.

Because Prapai is confessing to sleeping with three other people since he began stalking Sky (no shame, as one slut to another, I'm actually very proud he admitted to it), can we get a STI test? We got condoms, so miracles can happen.

*squints* Is that a heart on your chest, Sky? No, I'm not angry. No, you're not in trouble. No, you're perfect. I'm just working through my own stuff, so I'm gonna need a minute to process this.

If you wanna live that chismosa life, you gotta be aware of your surroundings. Amateur.

Yeah yeah yeah, the wind needs the windmill or whatever dumb shit Dangerous Romance said. Now go make the lapel pin of it, and GET BACK TO WORK! This reeks of nepotism because there is no other way you would still have a job.

Prapai calls Sky by his name, no honorifics. Prapai sleeps on the floor. Prapai asks his mom for advice on how to care for someone. *squints* This is sus af.

And now he is swerving advances and doing his job. *squints even harder* Are you actually trying to pass this course now?

I, too, would be sad if rope was spewing out of my shirt like that.

Prapai just swindled a key to Sky's apartment without asking Sky for it. WHY DON'T YOU WANT TO FUCKING PASS THIS COURSE?! I DO NOT WANT TO SEE YOUR ASS AGAIN NEXT SEMESTER!

I play with my ears when I get tired, so now I feel even more connected to you Sky, and PRAPAI IS KISSING YOU?! NOOOOO! STOP!!!!! HE'S TIRED! LEAVE MY BOY ALONE!

"I can't guarantee your safety if I stay" - It was a fake out, and I have lost years off my life because of this show. YEARS!

The first step is admitting you have a problem are the problem. *growth*

I'm not going to question the aerodynamics of riding with that project on a bike, but I will state that Prapai is the prefect example of the MAME Extremes I wrote about in the previous post because when he is good, he is really fucking good, but when he is bad, he is The Worst™ so can't we just find an in-between?

Don't you go pointing your scrawny finger at my boy like that! You're lucky he even still speaks to you. Shut up, five! A ten is thinking!

Prapai spending all his money on Sky. Prapai deleting all the numbers from his phone. Prapai getting the lapel pin. Prapai cleaning Sky's apartment. Prapai being honest about wanting Sky without being aggressive or crass. *squints so hard my head hurts* This is how Joe must feel with Ming in My Stand-In because I want to trust your ass, but my God, do you make it so fucking hard. I'm begging you to not screw up after this. PLEASE!

I've seen this scene eighty different ways from my dash, but hearing Sky tell Prapai to get bored with him quickly so he can move on while internally begging for Prapai not to get bored knowing what I know about his ex . . . it is salt in the wounds, poison in the wells, and the phone call from within the house. It is painful, deadly, and terrifying.

Prapai listening tentatively as Sky finally tells him what he actually likes to eat. Prapai responding with little tidbits he has learned about Sky along the way. Prapai giving shoulder kisses. Prapai asking about the ex. To quote RuPaul, "don't fuck it up"

Sig is the realest of all these boys, and I would give him the softest ear bites, the best thigh kisses, and the most amazing blowjob because that's what he deserves!

Prapai - Claim me. Own me. Mark me!

Sky - Gross.

While all of Payu's after scenes only made him look worse as he embraced the Manipulate-Mansplain-Malewife way into Rain's heart, all of Prapai's scenes make him seem like the biggest simp, and I am, once again, pleading for balance!

So now on to the next episo - - -

Wait a minute . . . I know this scene

This is where Sky gets in his head and distances himself, so Prapai breaks in and reads the journal. Oh no. Oh no no no.

*lays face first in a field of lavender*

I need liquor, ice, and a blender. They are all needed for different reasons. No, I will not elaborate.

#love in the air #Pride Petty Watch #I now love and respect Sig #he is the best boy and deserves what I'm willing to give him #this was the easiest section to watch so far #but that is a setup and I know it #I know what is coming #so I need to brace myself #aka drink

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sherashalala · 10 months

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Muriel had been doing what they always do best: Organizing. As a Scrivener of the 37th class, Muriel has a lot of experience with organizing, especially since everyone up there always loves it when things are neat and orderly and has no signs of anyone going through it.

Everything looks the same, and everything, even the labels, are by memory. Nothing is different between shelves.

This, however, is such a wonder. Colorful, and so diverse, like the Humans are, and how the Angels in Heaven had tried to be. After everyone figured that She loved the humans so much more than she did her Angels, it became all the craze, to take their Form and cherish it just as She had– and the Demons were a mockery of Her design.

However, these books were not by Her design. At least, not directly. These are by the hands of so many different humans.

Muriel radiates Love into every piece of parchment they touch, and makes sure that an equal amount of care and a good dose of miracles are doused on every page to keep it fresh and crisp for when Aziraphale comes back– and for when Crowley decides to visit.

Neither of which has happened for the past six months, which makes this place… rather lonely.

Still, Muriel is an Angel, and she has lots of Love to give.

Their daily routine of rearranging all the books in the bookshop from A to Z and sometimes spicing it up with Z to A is cut off by a sudden sound behind them. They jump, and admittedly they yelp, when the sound echoes at the door and even rings the bell a little.

Muriel approaches the door, and opens it, only to see a Demon at the other side. “Hello! Might I come in? Just a regular check up to make sure the coast is clear of the demon Crowley!” He says in a chipper tone, waving his hands at Muriel.

They blink. “Oh, uhm, I’m not supposed to be welcoming people willy nilly into the bookshop, sorry!” Muriel says with a polite grimace.

“Ah! No that’s perfectly alright,” They wave their hand placatingly at Muriel. “Just need your word that you haven’t seen the guy in a good while now. Also your name, for documentation purposes.”

Muriel smiles. “Ah! Yes. I’m Muriel.” Then they blink. “My word?”

“Well of course! You’re an Angel, Angels don’t lie.”

Muriel blinks, “Oh, oh yes thank you. You’re quite right about that!” Muriel clears their throat. “Well, Demon–” they blink, “Sorry what was your name again?”

“Eric. Eric the Disposable Demon.” He tells them.

They frown. “That’s not very nice.”

“Well it’s true! Pretty disposable.” They pat their chest, “And Proud!”

“Ah, right. Sorry, Pride is not one of my strong suits!”

Eric nods. “Of course, you’re an Angel after all.” Eric laughs. “Now, uhm, word please?”

“Ah! Yes, of course.” Muriel clears their throat. “Disposable Demon Eric,” Muriel says in a booming voice. “This Embassy of Heaven is Clear of any Threat– there has been no signs of the Demon Crowley in months now!” They announce.

The demon nods. “Great! Terrible meeting you.” He waves, and steps back.

“Wonderful meeting you Eric!” Muriel says, and shuts the door.

#serashalala writes #good omens #good omens muriel #eric the disposable demon #good omens 2

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gyusfavlibra · 2 years

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SKATEBOARD CRUSH | CHOI BEOMGYU

Pairing: Beomgyu x afab! reader

Featurings: TXT, Chaewon, Yunjin (Le Sserafim)

Word count: +2K

Warnings: Fluff, one swear word. Friends to lovers! Skateboarding.

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

The sun sent heat over the city. Winds were very low, brightness casted through the trees. Against sidewalks and streets, creating the perfect visible shadows it always did.

It was the middle of summer. Students taking their few months off to relax and kick back. Do whatever it is they spent many many weeks waiting to do.

You, being a on that particular break, just finished up your senior year of high school, racing through your bedroom. Throwing on some clothes to get ready for your personal spaced trip.

You grabbed some baggy ripped jeans, a cropped black tank top, and a thin knitted green sweater. The wind was capable of power pushing through the material just enough to chill your chest.

Your well thought of plan was to go to the skating park in your neighborhood. You had always traveled there after school, or homework time, to roll around and jump tricks on your board. It was never crowded during the school year since people had plans to write essays, do algebra, etc.

But you knew, today would be a little more occupied than usual days that you've been there. However, you didn't care. As long as you got your skate time in, the amount of people didn't matter to you.

You say goodbye to your parent(s). Passing through the front door, your graphic designed skateboard clutched in hand on your side. Just as you stepped onto the sidewalk, you flicked your board down on the ground and rolled off. Heading in the direction of the skate park.

The ride was nice. Creating your own wind by riding down small hills and going at your own speed that satisfied your insides. Faster that a walking distance. It was peaceful.

The park wasn't packed like she had expected. Not a little amount of people, but not a huge amount either. To your shock, there were only two females besides yourself. And you just so happen to be good friends with those girls. Chaewon and Yunjin.

You had met them at this specific park many months ago when your city did a skate tournament. You didn't participate, but Chaewon did. And obviously being the good skater she is, took home the trophy.

"Yo, what's up, Y/n."

"Hey, Chae."

You hugged the dark headed girl before hugging your other friend who just got off a ramp. "Place isn't as packed as I thought it'd be."

"Yeah, well, most of these people are only here because of them," Yunjin, the one with lighter brunette hair spoke as she pointed down the cemented walkway you approached on.

Five guys, five guys that you knew all too well, stood against a the metal fence by a picnic table. Laughing away which echoed through the space. Yeonjun, Soobin, Beomgyu, Huening Kai, and Taehyun.

These 5 boy were very well known to everyone at school. Girls would gawk over them like it was their first priority. Of course, it's because they were really hot, even you thought so, but you weren't one to waste your time hoping they would pull your hand and kiss it like some type of romance show. At least not for all of them.

But they could also sing which was cool in your eyes. Along with the fact that they all have really hot features was a good pro. Especially for him.

Okay okay, turns out there was a partial lie in the list of reasons why you go to this one park constantly.

Choi Beomgyu.

You two have had many conversations before. A couple ocurring at the park, but mostly in school. You did find him to be really admiring and super funny.

Over time a crush developed, but not one you would openly spread in school like other did.

You'd have to put down all your self pride just to fluster at him like every other person and you were NOT gonna do yourself like that.

"God, I'm female and even I want those dudes' bone structure," Yujin said while holding her hips.

You laughed at this while keeping your eyes on Beomgyu who was jumping around around on a picnic table. His friend watching him with wide smiles.

The way he smiled and always seemed to be in such a positive attitude was so intriguing and comforting to you. Fighting to urge to go over and kiss his smile as if it was your own.

You stares were like a call in the wind. Practically sensing sound waves to the whole group of guys, because next thing your girls knew, four of the five boys were looking your way. Chaewon and Yunjin quickly pull their eyes away to act like they weren't checking them out.

There was no hiding for you. You were caught. You probably have been caught more than you know by him or even just his friends.

Beomgyu's smile that was momentarily fading grew even bigger when he spotted you. The boy with mid length black hair and platinum blond streaks, held a arm up and waved largely at you.

You stomach filled with flutters.

You were in total awe. Making sure to send one back. "Man, he totally likes you."

"N- Chaewon, no. No he doesn't. He's just friendly."

"No, no, he totally does. That boy wants to have you wrapped around his finger here and now."

You rolled her eyes at the ridiculous comment. Sometimes you wondered if he did like you. He was always nice to you. Everyday even. But even then, you just think that's his personality, he's just treating you how he'd treat others as well.

"Oh my god, shut up."

Even though, you denied the accusation, it was very much true. Beomgyu did like you. You didn't know that though. But he told his friends that every second of every day because it was that hard to get you off his mind.

The boy watched as you strolled off with your friends to a ramp, taking turns to go down them. He watched in pure bliss as you rode so cautiously. You were a natural.

"Dude, just go talk to her."

Gyu turned to the know voice speaking. His friend Yeonjun was looking down at his boards purple wheels. Dusting them off with a rag he continuously brought along each time.

"No, I'd embarrass myself."

"No you won't. You've talked a million times before. Nothing can be that different."

Beomgyu kept his eyes on your figure. "You think she knows I like her?"

Soobin looked upwards at the whipped friend of his, still standing on the picnic table. "If she does, she's bad at trying not to like to you back."

"H- she said that?"

"No, but I've talked to her friend with the short before."

"W-what'd she say?"

"I guess- Y/n's not much of a head over heels person for guys. She doesn't act how she does with you, to anyone else."

He smiled slightly. Hearing that made him feel so special. So special. You only treat him so greatly and comfortably.

"He could just be tolerable," their red haired friend Taehyun spoke as he opened a package of fruit snacks. Soobin shook his head at the individual.

"Well, that's what I thought too, but Chaewon said that Y/n has a short tolerance, so, either Beomgyu is just testing us, or she likes him. Because he is annoying as hell."

Beomgyu felt a rush of excitement in his chest despite the minor teasing. If there are any chances that you liked him back, then he knew he needed to act on them. On something at least.

Huening Kai patted his shoes. "Go talk to her, tiger."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. Don't be such a cat," Yeonjun said deeply. Smacking his friend's leg. Beomgyu jumped down from his sitting position the table. His soul flipped.

"Someone come with me."

"B- dude-"

"I'm scared."

"I-okay I'll go with you," Soobin offered. Standing from his seat practically pushing Gyu to where they needed to be.

Yunjin noticed them approaching and snapped at the other two girls who just finished skating on a wide ramp.

"Beomgyu's coming!"

You were alerted. Looking up to the duo that were in fact walking over. Although, you didn't show the excitement to see him, it was definitely there. Your mind screaming to run away. You flipped around to look at your friends. "You guys better act normal."

The two gave an "ok" with their fingers before standing to act as told. Soobin was pushing Beomgyu by his shoulders. The closer they got, the more his heart started racing. But he had to quickly suck up that nervousness and be confident.

"Hello. How are you?" Chaewon waved. Bright smile plastered on her face.

"We're great! We just saw you guys skating. You're all really good!"

"Thank you."

"Yeah, I heard you won-"

All the talking had completely been zoned out of Beomgyu's mind as well as yours. Soobin and Chaewon were practically flirting in front of them and no one wanted to hear all of that. You grabbed Beomgyu's hand and pulled him to another pit.

"You can skate, right?" You asked.

"Why else would I be at a skate park?"

"To meet a girl, maybe. I don't know. You tell me, Gyu."

His nickname rolled off your tongue like magic. Like it was meant to only be spoken by you and you only. He loved the sound of you being the one to say it. His ears rang with romance.

"There is one girl."

His fingers pricked at the pebbles stuck on his shoes. "Really? Who?" You questioned. You set your board down on the cement. A huge wave of disappointment wipe out your happiness. When the words exit his mouth, you almost wanted to cry. Maybe there was a part of you that thought maybe you had a chance.

Did he really like someone else?

There goes any chance with him.

"Doesn't matter. She doesn't like me back."

You shrugged with a pursed mouth, choosing to support rather than talk down on his feelings. "Never know until you ask her."

And with that, you slid down the ramp. Staying in a steady position to keep yourself from falling off the board. Beomgyu watched carefully. Making sure he saw your every move. For many reasons. Just in case she fell or you wanted him to redo what you did.

It'd kill him to see you get hurt.

Seconds later you came back to the surface of the pit, kicking your board up and into your hand.

"Think you could do that?"

"I think...I can do better."

"Oh really," you rose an eyebrow. Almost shocked at the sudden confidence. "Then, show me what you got Gyu."

You handed the boy your board, realizing he didn't bring his over. A soft smile planted on your face. It was so memorizing to him that he almost forgot what you had wanted him to do.

"Here I go," he spoke with a shout as he slid down, moving to the other side. Scraping against the edge were quite good. Meant he held on quit well.

You weren't shocked. Not even near surprised. You knew he was good. You used to watch him skate before you even became "friends". One of things that brought you closer by the days.

"Alright, okay. I underestimated you, sir Beomgyu."

"Noo, I'm not anywhere as good as you."

"Yeah you are. Even better. I really like your form.

The compliment made his whole heart flutter. Cheeks burning to a crimson red. Gosh, too bad it was dark. You could definitely see he's blushing. Beomgyu typically took nice comments like a simple hello. But not from you. It was like a music box that he'd NEVER turn off. Ever.

"So, tell me about this girl you like. Is she pretty?" You interrogated as they now sat on their own boards, facing each other.

The thought that he did like someone still stuck in the back of your mind. Beomgyu smiled, trying to deeply hide it. But it was failing.

"She's breathtaking."

Breathtaking.

What did he think of you? Did you come close to breathtaking?

"Breathtaking? Hm. What's she like?"

"She is funny, nice, she is very very smart. In school, she passes every quiz, every test. It's mindblowing. Oh! And! And! She skateboards."

You felt your stomach drop. Getting the feeling that Beomgyu was for some reason describing one of her friends. There goes the arrow of pride your were so close to shooting into his back.

Your eyebrows rose as if you were waiting for him to continue. But you chose to speak instead. "Is it....Chaewon?"

Beomgyu couldn't help but burst into a loud fit of laughter. Catching the attention of each of his friends as well as yours. You just sat dumbfounded at the fact that you didn't understand what was funny.

It was almost as if, he knew you wanted it to be her and he thought it was dumb, but obviously that was NOT the case.

After many seconds, his laughter died down, feeling a large chunk of courage, he wiped his eyes from the happy tears. "So, Yunjin?"

"Not even close."

You gaze down to the cement and back up at him. If it wasn't either of your friends....then that could only mean...

"Y/n..."

You slowly raised your finger to your own chest. "Me?"

"Bingo."

And with that, Beomgyu kneeled over and place his pink lips onto yours. Holding your jaw in one hand. His friends continuing their stalker viewing, cheering for the duo across the court. The girls squealing and the guys dropping chants of Gyu's name.

His eyes fell into the gaze of your own when you separated. Both carrying large smiles, but still being very close to each other's faces.

The connected conformation had you smiling CRAZILY. Your cheeks heat up. The burning sensation filling up your whole face. "You think I'm breathtaking?"

"Bodytaking," he chuckled. You hold his hand tightly in yours. Almost afraid to let ago. "Will you be mine, Y/n?"

"Don't have to ask me twice."

Hope you enjoyed this! I wrote it on Wattpadn but I'm gonna transfer them all to Tumblr since they're mostly oneshots and stuff! Thank you!

#txt fluff #txt angst #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #choi beomgyu imagines #beomgyu x reader #kpop imagines #tomorrow by together #txt oneshots #beomgyu oneshot #soobin #yeonjun #hueningkai #taehyun #choi beomgyu scenarios

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rosyandraw · 11 months

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Hi I love you. I’ve been carefully waiting for you to update 🤍 but also I do have a question! I noticed that you made Damen a Scorpio, and Laurent a Taurus in NMFY. Was this intentional? Because I saw on capri twt someone made a timeline to show Damen & Lauren’s 6 year age gap, and their most likely birthday. And Damen being a Scorpio and Laurent being a Taurus totally fits 😭🤍 In case it was totally intentional and you wrote it based on the books, you’re absolutely brilliant and I love you more. I wanted to know whether you’re into zodiac and have opinion to their zodiac compatibility pairing

I LOVE THIS AND I LOVE YOU FOR ASKING (also I just updated when I said I was going to lmao, for once!)

Sorry my answer is so long. But here is my essay on Scorpio Damen and Scorpio/Taurus compatibility.

I haven't seen the timeline, so I did it based on the books and then my own opinion of their characters. I'm really into astrology. I'm into spiritualism too and I'm an eclectic neopagan (not that you asked lmao)

Laurent is late spring, so can only really be a Taurus or a Gemini based on the information we're given in the books. And I think Taurus is more Laurent's vibe.

We know they're 20 and 25 during the books which kicks off around June time but by Marlas, which would have been early spring/March Damen was already 19 and Laurent was approaching 14. So Damen's birthday has to be later than September as the books only span 3 months (being generous) but before Spring (battle at marlas).

Then it was just a matter of deciding what I felt vibed best with what we know of them. I toyed with a few for Damen but none of them felt right -Capricorn, Sag, Libra- they just don't fit him very well.

I think Damen fits a Scorpio for so many reasons, mostly because they're incredibly deep but don't really show it. They're charismatic people quite naturally but they can also be ruthless. They're also -like Taurus- extremely loyal.

Scorpio people feel very deeply, they can be great leaders, resourceful, passionate when something is important to them, they love challenges and tend to be fucking fearless when they see obstacles.

You’re probably thinking "but Scorpios are manipulators" and yes. They can be and I would argue that Damen isn’t the kind of person that manipulates on purpose but, as with most scorpio’s, he is charming when he wants to be and often charming people don’t recognise their influence on the people around them. He is also smart and strategic and his manner of looking at things coupled with a natural charisma often influences situations and the people around him without him purposefully thinking let me manipulate this. Manipulation doesn’t always equal sneaky, sometimes it references a natural sway and I think Scorpio is often this kind of person. Especially because they are almost always confident they are right and confidence is everything when you’re influencing a situation or person, whether you know it or not.

Scorpio is often calm and collected. They feel deeply but don’t show it the way you associate with the other water signs. They can be violent when pushed and can be relentless with it, whether it’s a physical fight, a slanging match, or a cause they believe in Scorpio is IMPOSSIBLE to fight with. They keep their heads, they aren’t prone to lashing out or to displays of emotion but they can and will absolutely ruin you if you get them there. If they were a sin I’d say it might be Pride.

We know from Canon Damen is very cool and collected in high stress situations. He compartmentalises to a fault, he doesn’t EVER let his situation get the better of him in terms of his emotions. I am talking explicitly about his ability to keep his shit together when in fight or flight and his decision making ability in high stress situations. And of course his penchant for not letting himself feel the horror and sadness of everything that has happened: Kastor, Jokaste, his dad dying, being stabbed by his brother, the post, Ancel etc.

He feels it very deeply but he doesn’t let it show, he doesn’t let it rule him and he doesn’t acknowledge it pretty much all the way through the books.

Scorpio is deeply self aware (not always emotionally) and there isn’t a single instance in the book where Damen doubts himself. Not even in chains. He doesn’t even really doubt Laurent even when Laurent throws test after test at him. There’s a loyalty and surety there.

In terms of sex and romance scorpio is the sign of sexuality which matches nice with Taurus because they are the sign of sensuality. We know Damen’s only two outlets in terms of his emotions are fighting and fucking. He is a deeply DEEPLY sexual person and he has so much passion in him that he literally walks into the lions den with an I love you and some big fucking balls. Like??? Who else but a scorpio would have the AUDACITY to do that shit?

Prone to one-night stands and expression through their bodies Scorpios will only truly be satisfied when they find the ONE which again -so is Taurus. And when they do they are loyal and passionate and tend to spend their teen years and 20s being fuck-boys and hoes until they realise they want more.

Sound familiar? The second Damen fucks Laurent there is no going back for him because he’s found the person that can satisfy both his intense needs: sex and the emotional intimacy he’d been craving (but ignoring) his whole life.

When Scorpio’s find the one they want the literally merge their lives and hearts and become the power couple WE kind of people.

Intelligent, loyal, strategic, dedicated to the people they care about, they work well under pressure, are focused, resourceful and hardworking. They enjoy the chase; they are competitive and they like a little mystery in their romance. When in love they are unshakeable and loyal and passionate above all else. Their kind of love can be too intense for most people but Taurus WANTS that security and the assurance, Taurus thrives on being the centre of someone’s world and no other zodiac sign will do it quite as well as Scorpio

Taurus and Scorpio have a lot of sexual energy between them and natural compatibility. So I think it makes a lot of sense, Laurent and Damen's chemistry on page is stellar and it is INSTANT.

I think any time I read an enemies to lovers I assume they have birth charts that are compatible because Love and Hate are so closely aligned. Hate is such a passionate sentiment, I don't think it's possible that two people like that don't have some natal compatibility/facets that make for glorious tension.

Anyway, sorry for the ramble and thank you for this because it was so so much fun to word vomit about it haha! 💕💕

#Captive Prince #Is this meta?#Damen is a scorpio and I'll kill on this hill #This is my reasoning from my astrology loving little brain #so sorry i ramble #thank you so much for this ask btw this was so much fun haha

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mommasunshines · 4 months

Note

Do you have any headcanons for the zoo boys? I find the dynamic between that group kind of interesting

Oh do I ever! Thank you so much for asking.

I haven't thought about it much so bear with me, this isn't gonna be structured. Like, at all. This will lose coherence quickly.

Ward is gay. He was actually the first character while reading these books wehere I was actively looking at him and decided that he was gay, or at least could be if the author would write queer characters. I don't even quite remember what it was that sparked that believe in me, but something about the way we saw him portrayed made me think that he was. He was the first zoo kid next to Aubrey, and he was very much the awkward kid, and he was very protective of all his siblings. The way he kept fighting with Justin also could've been the start of a funny enemies to lovers dynamic, but that was only for like, a book or two. Him so desperately not wanting to be like his womanizing dad was also a thing where I was like: "Valid, but also, maybe you are so uncomfortable with that idea because you might not be into women? Who knows.

Vinny gives me the vibe of randomly dropping lore about himself. Like he'll be making burgers and talking and suddenly go "Oh yeah, I slept with some guys, it was fun, but you know, nothing too special. Except one, but that one moved across the country and he's got a girlfriend now so..." and never mention it again. It's just the vibe he's giving. Also in the bad boy era to infiltrate the gang? He could've been pullingggggg.

Lance is kind of a wild card. He is kind of the cute a little awkward guy, but at the same time very outgoing. He's described as pretty feminine or "pretty" at times which is something that is coded as something queer a lot of the times, guys being more feminine or pretty. Might have had something with a guy, might not have, I am leaning towards definitely a little bicurious, but I can't quite tell.

After a lot of thinking I decided Freddy either discovered he liked men during his time in Juvie, or he is somewhere on the ace spectrum. This man probably would make the dirtiest jokes known to man but when someone actually approaches him he's like: "No thanks, but hey, I wouldn't mind some food, wanna get some garlic bread?" He was kind of one of the hardest to pin down, but I think that's where I am at now.

Brandon I'm not sure about. Brandon we haven't seen much off, and he might just be straight. But you best bet that that man makes the whole world look rainbow in pride month the way Jesper can make it black and white. He is an Ally to the max.

Kayden is a kinda tricky one. Because like, if he does like men, he was probably always at least somewhat aware of it considering where he's from. He grew up on an island witht he warriors of Maui, and of course there would've been nothing sexual happening cause they consider each other family, but he's definitely discovered pretty early that he likes men if he does like men.

Now if it comes to dynamics within the group, not entirely sure. They all consider each other siblings to some degree, so it would be absolutely awkward. But I can see either Kayden of Vinny being the queer awakening for a lot of them, especially ward. But that's honestly most of what I got rn

#Cape High #Queering up Cape High

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trans-axolotl · 1 year

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hellooo & happy pride ! i have a question about psych meds/withdrawal/harm reduction if you have the space for it— i’ve been on ssri’s for 14 years (!) since i was 11 years old (!) and i would looove to come off them but unfortunately i am dealing with chronic health issues (pots/mcas/eds) at the same time so i’m nervous to try and taper on my own

do you have any ideas of people/orgs i might be able to talk to about my specific situation and get some help coming off safely? or just a direction to point me in to start searching…every psychiatrist i’ve spoken to just wants to increase dose or add in another med 😭

Happy pride anon!!

I'm sorry to hear that you haven't been able to find support for changing your medication choices. It's so frustrating to feel stuck on meds that aren't what you want to be on, especially when's it been happening for years. Disclaimer as always that I am not a medical provider or psych med expert, so please do your own research and consult with trusted sources when possible!

There are some helpful resources that I want to share, and defintely just want to emphasize that before making any medication changes, it can be really helpful to do research, throughly understand the risk for your own situation, and make an in depth plan for how you want to approach your medication changes. Tapering will always be safer than just completely quitting medications, and it can be really helpful to consider how other medical issues you have will intersect with med changes. Sometimes, stopping some meds cold turkey can be life threating, so it is crucial to really do your research and understand your risks.

Even tapering meds can cause some difficult physical and mental symptoms, so it can be helpful to consider when will be the best timing, how stable other parts of your life are, what support you have from friends/family, and what will happen if symptoms escalate while you're in the process of tapering off. A lot of times, withdrawal from meds can cause some of the same symptoms that you might have originally been taking the meds for, so having a coping plan ahead of time allows you to be ready to make decisions in the moment. I think it's also important to know that tapering safely can be a really slow process, sometimes lasting months or over a year depending on your dosage, how long you've been on a med, and what your tolerance for withdrawal symptoms is.

The Harm Reduction guide to Psych meds is a really awesome resource from the Icarus project that shares a lot of tips for the process of medication change.

Mind.uk has some pretty good basic info about medications that can be helpful for understanding side effects, withdrawal info, etc.

The Withdrawal Project from the Inner Compass initative is an amazing resource that collects information from patients, experts, science, anecdotal experiences, and provides information about things like safe tapering schedules, withdrawal symptoms, and things to know before tapering. They also have a forum where you can talk to other people who are tapering and get advice and support. You might also be able to get reccomendations for medical providers in your area who would be willing to help you with tapering, for example.

Wishing you the best, anon, and feel free to reach out with any other questions!

#asks #antipsychiatry #mad pride #psych abolition #harm reduction #followers who know stuff about tapering from psych drugs pls feel free to add on your fav resources!#i went off my psych meds two years ago and have experience with withdrawal so always happy to talk with people about what that might look l #like. one of the meds i went off of was an ssri and i can talk through what that withdrawal might feel like! i also have pots so if you wan #any specifics like that let me know

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finniestoncrane · 1 year

Text

Your One True Nemesis

Chapter 8: also on AO3 Masterlist Here Arkham!Riddler x Female!Reader, word count: 2k do you think the hardest puzzle was the friends you could have made along the way but didn't because you are emotionally closed off as a defense mechanism??? asking for a... colleague💚🔧 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: angst, alcohol, denial like for real

“Ok! Flip the switch!”

“There isn’t… what switch?”

Eddie dropped his hands, which he held maniacally above his head, down to his sides with a miserable frown.

“I know that, idiot! You couldn’t let me have my mad scientist moment? No flair for the dramatic in you, none at all.”

He tutted, waving you on with the task at hand.

Smiling, you picked up the remote control for the shabby, almost humanoid robot the two of you had been working on and pressed the button that broadcast the signal. With a jittering, sputtering movement, the prototype came to life, walking towards Eddie in a stilted manner.

“Ha ha! He’s alive! My child!”

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, happy to be basking in Eddie’s good mood. Finally breaking down to your begging and pleading and demanding, he had let you participate in something a bit more substantial than making him coffee and handing him screwdrivers. This project, the first of his prototypes, you had completed together. And you could feel a sense of pride swelling within you, along with your cheeks blushing at the thought of you both creating ‘life’ together, as Eddie put it.

But everything, including the legs of the little mechanical man, came to a grinding halt as he fizzed and hissed, internally combusting in just the smallest of explosions, before falling to a heap on the floor.

Looking up at Eddie, you were met with a glare.

“You.”

“Me!?”

“If I had worked on that myself, this would never have happened!”

“If you’d worked on it yourself you’d be months away from even this moment!”

“Oh, I suppose you’re going to offer me the sentiment that we learn from our mistakes.”

“Actually, yes.”

“Well, I don’t make mistakes. People like you make mistakes.”

You could feel a lecture coming on, a dressing down, a complete and utter annihilation of your being, Eddie’s favourite pastime it seemed. Especially when he was furious.

“It must be humbling, being in my presence. The opportunity to even glimpse my greatness. The dawning realisation of just how insignificant and unworthy of note you are. Is that why you are intent on destroying everything I’ve worked for?”

“Hey! I helped, but you had already started on this hunk of junk before you let me even pass you the tools you were using.”

“Skipping past the irrelevance of the time you spent in relation to how much damage you could do, how dare you insult my robots. Hunk of junk? These are my masterpieces! When I have defeated Batman with the help of these mechanical hands, they will become monuments to my genius, and therefore, testaments to his, and your, stupidity.”

“Eddie, I’m not-”

“Mister Nigma, sir!”

Ah, the calling card of every argument. The shift back to formalities. Just as you got used to calling him Edward, or even Eddie, there was always something that pushed you away again, whether legitimate or imaginary, Edward always found a way. Sighing, you slumped down on the chair by the work bench and turned your back to him. You were exhausted. Tired of arguing, tired of being lectured, insulted, degraded. It was becoming apparent that this might not be the work you were cut out for.

But as you sat, martyring yourself and wondering how long it would take you to clear your room out, Eddie approached behind you.

“I’m not going to apologise.”

“Of course you aren’t.”

“I realise that there is no… one specific thing to blame. It could be you, it could be the parts, it could be the quality of the wires used.”

“It could be something you did.”

“Doubtful.”

You turned to him, rolling your eyes.

“Either way. You’re right. You could stand to learn from your mistakes. So next time, I am hopeful that you’ll do a better job.”

It was pathetic, but you were so grateful for the small improvements he showed. The willingness to end an argument on a somewhat neutral note being one of them, which you hoped to encourage. So you smiled at him and nodded.

“Next time.”

“Yes. But! Until then, perhaps a celebration is in order, for we just saw our mechanical man take his first steps, albeit crude and deathly ones.”

Our mechanical man. You repeated the phrase over and over, holding it as close to your heart as you could imagine. He had credited you, he had acknowledged your efforts. He probably didn’t mean to, and he might have corrected himself by now if he had noticed, but either way, you were clinging to this. It would be enough to stave off the thought of leaving for at least another week or so.

“So, what do you say, we autopsy this poor creature, scope out some plans for improvement, and then order food?”

You didn’t say anything, but your smile answered the question.

“I know what you’re thinking, my dear. Mister Nigma, sir knows how to meticulously structure a very good time indeed.”

With a wink, he crouched down and began separating the shrapnel of the robot’s chest cavity, and you joined him on the floor, sifting through the remains, smiling at him.

And while he pretended not to notice, Edward was well aware of the glances you stole. Just as he was well aware of the credit he had given you. It made him feel what he could only imagine was happy when he considered that he had a partner on a project. A partner. All he would admit to was that you were more of a help than a hindrance, but in reality, your enthusiasm, even just your presence, influenced his capacity for output and his joy in the work. It made everything go faster, smoother. You were like a good luck charm, if he believed in anything as ridiculous as luck.

It was strange to him that you made him consider such notions. There was something about your presence he still couldn’t put his finger on. But he was content to ruminate, to puzzle over it for now, pleasantly stimulated by just your existence as he stole his own glances while you worked on the broken and shattered pieces of the first of what he hoped were many projects you would complete together.

When the food arrived, Eddie offered to collect it from outside, leaving you to wander to the kitchen and set out the dishes. By the time he had come back in, you were grimacing at the fridge.

“Nothing to drink.”

“Hm… coffee?”

“Coffee and… pizza?”

“Italian?”

“Terrible. Oh!”

You jogged slowly to your room, picking out a crate of beer from the mini fridge you had added to the minimal furniture. An addition that Eddie questioned with a look.

“Warm beer sucks.”

“I’m more concerned that you keep them in there and not in the main fridge.”

“I do most of my drinking in bed at night, or before I go to sleep.”

“That’s probably not a good habit. What could possibly be driving you to that?”

You raised an eyebrow at him as you passed him a bottle, and he seemed to understand the slight jab at him that you were making. Raising the bottle to you he nodded, sheepishly.

“Understandable.”

Adding to the list of things you were learning about Eddie, as you watched him consume three beers with what was more than his fair share of the pizza, you realised he was a bit of a lightweight, at least in comparison to yourself. You were buzzed, for sure, but Eddie seemed completely drunk, and it was opening up another side to him. One that was just as talkative, but now, it was like he was actually saying something.

“So you should by now, I hope, be beginning to comprehend the uh… breadth! … of the tasks ahead of you, the sheer scale hic of the gauntlet I have thrown down!”

He sloshed his bottle as he gestured enthusiastically, splashing beer to the floor and delicately dipping his fingers to the little puddle before frowning.

“You have to help me build little robots…”

He brought his free hand up, fingers held very close together as he tried to emphasise how small these ‘little robots’ would be.

“… and you also hic have to uh… clean that spill up. Sorry.”

You giggled and smiled at him, and to your surprise he smiled back.

“I dunno why I don’t do this more often, I’m obviously much more… t-tolerable… I think.”

“I think I know why. And I don’t think you’re more tolerable. You’re just as intolerable as you always are.”

It was meant as a joke, the kind that he would usually smirk at, annoyed at you mostly for being as witty as he was. But he lowered his head and nodded.

“My father thought I was intolerable. Makes sense. Mother too.”

Entirely guilt ridden, you slid off the sofa to the floor beside him, allowing yourself to get closer to him than you really had been before.

“The guards at Arkham, the inmates at Arkham. None of them could suffer me. Biggest brain, smartest man, most intolerable human being. I suppose that’s why I have no friends. It’s… difficult for people to make the effort… for a connection.”

He looked to you for sympathy, but could see the hurt on your face.

“Before. No friends… before.”

Eddie placed his palm awkwardly on your shoulder, staring at it, as though he was surprised even at himself for making that leap. Which he was. He’d never before thought he would be brave enough to consider someone a friend, let alone have someone who seemed to be genuinely upset at the notion that he wasn’t a friend to them. He could feel his heart in his chest, suddenly very aware of the way his blood was circulating around, towards specific areas, the speed at which that integral organ pumped if around him. His throat, closing up, allowing him only the shallowest of breaths as he felt the heat on his palm, as though your body were on fire below him, too hot to touch, warning him to let go, or inviting him to enjoy the pleasant warmth.

Standing up, swaying slightly at the speed and the alcohol that he could swear he could feel swishing around in his stomach, he placed his hands securely in his pockets, as though containing them would prevent them from doing anything else without his specific permission.

“It’s very late. I think if we would like to be up early… in the… the morning time… we should perhaps go to our bed. Our beds. Separate… we have separate beds.”

From the floor, you looked up at him, watching the way he slurred his meanings and words, keenly studying the way he avoided eye contact, the way he struggled to look away from you.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

As he shambled off to his room, the door slamming three times behind him as he tried to close it in his stupor, you leaned back against the sofa, downing the very last of your beer and setting the bottle to the side. Staring at the arched brick ceiling, the stalactites of grime forming and reaching down to you, you could feel a scream rising up in your chest, desperate to come out.

It was the awkwardness, the tension. You could sense it the whole time, because you were the one with the crush. But if Eddie could feel it, it meant one of two things. Either he had feelings for you, or you were weirding him out with the way you insisted on being close to him. He opened up to you this evening, sure, called you a friend, in a roundabout way. But you knew which of the two options were likely. So, in the silence of the living area and with Eddie’s drunken snores giving you the security and permission to do so, you let out a long, hushed groan in place of the desperate howl you needed to get out.

#finnie writes #arkham riddler #arkham edward nigma #riddler x reader #arkhamverse riddler #the riddler #arkhamverse #riddler #the riddler imagine #riddler smut #the riddler fanfic #riddler fanfic #riddler x you #edward nigma x reader #edward nigma #arkham!riddler #the riddler fanfiction #arkham!verse #finnie yotn

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skvatnavle · 2 years

Text

Love is Love

Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

Warnings: pining idiots, yearning, Bob being clueless, Hangman being drunk, kissing, fluff, Hangman being a cocky mofo, SMUT! M/M. Oral (m receiving), anal sex, protected sex (be smart like HangBob).

Notes: Enemies to idiots to lovers, is the best way to describe this. A part of @writer-wednesday week 18, a few days late. Hope y'all had a great pride month 🌈

A huge thanks to @a-reader-and-a-writer for beta reading ❤️

Words: 4K

“Bob, you need to drive Hangman home. He’s wasted.” Rooster says, pointing towards a booth in the corner.

Groaning, Bob looks over at Jake babbling in the corner, laughing at one of his own jokes. Something had been off with him all night. Actually, things had been a little off with him ever since that day they played Dogfight football.

“Why do I have to?”

“Cause you’re the only one who’s sober.”

Bob curses under his breath. The last thing he needs is to get stuck in a car with a drunk Jake. True, he had often imagined what it would be like driving Jake home, but that was under different circumstances. And frankly something that would never happen.

Bob had seen firsthand for weeks how Jake flirted with the ladies, how confident he was around them and how they all practically fell to their knees for him. Even if by any chance he was bi, he would never go for a guy like Bob. Especially with the way he was always teasing him, there was no way in hell Jake harbored anything but friendly feelings for Bob. If even that much.

Walking over to Jake, Rooster offers to help drag him to the car. When Jake sees Bob approaching, he smiles wide, his eyes unfocused.

“Baby on Board! There you are!”

“If you say that one more time, I’m leaving you in the gutter somewhere.”

Jake shuts up, faking pout, before he breaks into a laugh and looks at Rooster with a mischievous grin.

“I think the Missus is mad at me.”

“Fuck, he’s drunk.” Rooster laughs, as he hoists Jake up from his seat. Bob moves to hold under the other arm, blushing slightly when he feels Jake this close. His hand resting on Jake’s back and chest, he can’t help but feeling the heat creep up his cheeks at the toned body underneath his fingertips. The same chiseled body he’s been thinking of ever since that day on the beach.

Jake leans his head on Bob’s shoulder, giving him a soft smile as they drag him past the others. Once they reach the car, Bob takes over and gently helps Jake into the car and fastens his seatbelt. Jake reaches up and softly cups Bob’s cheek, instantly making him blush a heavy red and he prays Rooster doesn’t notice.

“I’ve always liked you, Bob.”

“And here I thought drunk people told the truth. You’re an even worse liar when wasted.” Rooster says with a laugh before he pats Bob on the shoulder and walks away, leaving them to themselves. Even though he knows somewhere deep down that Jake can be good, he can't help but think Rooster's words are true.

Jake had his moments, sure, and they had increased the last week after the game. But he was still cocky and asserted himself whenever he could, often on the expense of others. And it was usually Bob. But something had shifted, caused Jake to act out tonight and Bob can’t shake the feeling that it is because of what happened that day.

When Mav had told them his plan for the day, they had all been skeptical. Dogfight football? How was that going to make them a better team? But within an hour, they had to admit his plan was working. Hell, even Bob felt like a part of the team, where before he sometimes felt a little on the outside of the group. Never been the most rumbustious person, he tended to fade into the background. But that had changed today and now he felt like one of them.

After Mav left, they all stayed and played for a while, but not as serious as before. People were joking around, having fun and all seemed relaxed for the first time since they came back to Top Gun. Tossing the ball around, the ball was passed to Bob and before he could throw it again, Hangman tackled him.

Laughing loudly, they tumbled to the ground, Hangman pinned Bob beneath him. As they laid still, Hangman’s thigh rested between Bob’s, pressed against his crotch. Bob whimpered softly at the contact, a heavy blush creept up his cheeks. Having Hangman this close was something he had thought of many nights, laying alone in his room with his cock in hand. His body instantly reacted, trembled under Hangman’s weight.

Hangman stopped laughing and looked into Bob’s eyes, his lips slowly turned into a smile.

“Are you blushing, Bob?”

“N-no.” he managed to stammer out, before gently pushing at Hangman’s chest. But Bob just looked to his hands as they trembled against Hangman’s warm skin. Fighting the urge to run his fingers down his perfect body, Bob felt himself harden.

Hangman’s smirk grows wider as he pushed his thigh closer to Bob’s hardening length, pulling yet another soft whimper from Bob. He hated how easily he reacted to Hangman’s touch but still, he didn’t want it to end. Wanted to stay here, pinned beneath him, feeling his breath on his. It would be so easy to just lean forward, to press his lips to his.

But before he knew it, Hangman pushed away from Bob with a smirk and took the ball, resuming the game. Phoenix came over to ask if Bob was okay and he did everything he could to hide his boner. Frantically, he looked around, afraid anyone saw them, but only Phoenix seemed to notice. No one was looking.

Except Hangman. Every now and then his eyes would find Bob’s, a soft smirk on his face. The rest of the day he looked at Bob with a knowing smile, like he was taunting him over the secret only they knew.

When Jake has stared out the window for 15 minutes without a word, Bob finally looks towards him, concerned at how different he's acting.

“What’s gotten into you tonight?”

“Drowning my sorrows.”

Bob huffs as he shakes his head. The fact that Jake could feel sorry about anything or have any problems, is a foreign thought to Bob. He seems like the kind of guy that has everything.

“What problems could you possibly have?”

Jake looks up, only to see Bob frowning in disbelief. Laying his head back against the window, looking out at the landscape drifting by.

“Why do you care? You hate me.”

If only he knew just how untrue that was and how much Bob cared. How much he actually liked Jake despite all his flaws. Sure, he was cocky and borderlining on asshole, but since the beach he had seemed… sweeter somehow. Whenever they were alone, he was kind. It was just small things like bringing him water, a snack or asking how his day had been, but it made Bob’s heart soar. It also made him fall for Jake, even though he knew it would end with him having a broken heart.

“I don’t hate you, Hangman.” At that Jake sits up and looks at Bob, disbelief painted on his face. The way the light falls on his face as they drive past a streetlamp, highlighting his beautiful features, makes Bob’s throat go dry and his heart skip a beat. Slowly the corners of his mouth turn up into a faint smile, but his eyes are still full of sorrow.

“There’s this person I like, but I can’t tell him-HER! I meant… Her.”

He laughs it off as a drunk mistake, but if he only knew what his little error did to Bob. For a second, he actually started hoping, but of course not. Putting on his best smile, Bob looks quickly at Jake before returning his gaze to the road.

“Why can’t you tell her? You’re the most confident guy I know.”

“Not this time. This… Is different.”

He is silent for a while, contemplating his words. But he doesn't get to speak, before they arrive at the base. With a little struggle, Hangman frees himself from the seatbelt and staggers towards their living quarters. Bob follows silently behind, a little amused over Jake's wobbly walk as they walk down the hall. As they reach the door to Jake’s room, Bob leaves him there with a soft pat on the shoulder.

"Good night, Hangman. Drink some water."

But as he walks away, Jake grabs his hand, causing Bob to stop dead in his tracks.

"Bob…"

Turning slowly, he looks into Jake's eyes. Those beautiful green eyes that easily takes his breath away every time he looks into them.

“She…” he looks deep into Bob’s eyes, his Adams apple bobbing as he swallows hard “She’s too good for me. So I can’t tell… her.” He runs his fingers through his hair before turning away, looking to the ground. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I wouldn’t?! I look at you every day and-” At that Jake looks up into Bob’s eyes and the look of surprise makes Bob backtrack. “I mean… guys like you… And you’re always so confident and get what you want.”

Jake turns towards Bob, his eyes wide as Bob rambles on like he's the one that's been drinking too much.

“I could never get someone like you. Get to be someone like you, I mean.”

“I thought I was the drunk one?” Jake smirks through half closed eyes. Oh God. Bob is silently praying that Jake wouldn’t remember anything of this in the morning.

"You, ehm… you should get some sleep. See you in the morning"

And with that Bob turns away and walks to his own room quickly without looking back.

The next day he barely sees Jake. Another day full of training, spending all their time up in the air. And what little they have on ground, it seems Jake avoids him. So maybe he did remember what happened last night. Hopefully he would just let it go at some point.

After dinner and a much-needed shower, Bob retires to his room. Some of the others wanted another night at The Hard Deck, but Bob had had his fill of drunk people this weekend, deciding to just relax with a book and head to bed early.

But at midnight he is startled awake by a loud banging at his door. Scared what it could be, he jumps out of bed and open the door quickly, only to find Hangman standing there, gulping down a beer.

"Hangman? What are you doing here?"

When he doesn't answer, Bob lifts Jake’s head to inspect his face, only to find his eyes unfocused and glassy, a sadness etched into his features. He knows Jake can handle himself, but he still can’t help but feel worried.

"Are you drunk?"

"Maybe a little."

Sighing, Bob takes a step back and gets ready to close the door. "I think you have a drinking problem."

"No, I have a ‘you’ problem."

He slams his hand against the door, holding it open. His words hurt, more than Bob thought they would, and he tries his best to remain calm and seem unfaced.

“Okay, I know you don’t like me, but to come here and say-”

“Don’t like you? Bob…” he moves closer, his hand coming up to cup Bobs cheek softly, his thumbs caressing the soft skin, that’s slowly turning pink under his touch. “You’re all I can think about.”

Shocked, Bob is afraid he's dreaming. Did… did he just say…?

"But you… How? I thought you didn't like me."

"Why would you think that?”

“All the teasing? Name calling. Never letting me finish one game of pool without taking the cue from-”

Cutting him off with a kiss, Bob freezes as he feels Jakes insistent lips against his. But soon he melts into the softness of his lips, feeling his knees go weak as Jake’s tongue beg for entrance. Jake pulls Bob closer as he deepens the kiss, causing Bob to moan. Afraid someone might hear them, Jake guides Bob inside, his mouth still on his as he closes the door, pushing Bob against the wall. Putting his hand on Jake's chest, Bob gently pushes him away, breaking the kiss.

“I’m still confused. How am I even your type?”

Bob rubs the back of his neck, barely able to look Jake in the eyes as he’s blushing. Jake just moves in closer, his hand resting on Bob’s hips.

“Maybe I like scrawny nerdy dudes with glasses.”

“I’m not scrawny!”

Bob pushes at his chest, making Jake laugh. He doesn’t even budge an inch, just looks Bob deep in the eyes with a huge smile. Jake could really be an ass, but maybe teasing was just one of his ways to show affection.

“Well, I’ve never seen you without clothes, so how would I know?” Jake adds, the tone of his voice unmistakable.

“You… You wanna see me without my clothes…?” Bob asks softly, barely above a whisper. Jake leans in closer and looks into Bob’s eyes with an intensity that makes him shiver.

“There’s nothing I want more.”

Unable to hold back anymore, Bob crashes his lips to Jake’s, pouring weeks of want into it. Bob’s hands claw into Jake’s shirt, his fingers tangled in the thin fabric at his back, his waist, pulling him closer, drawing him in until even their little pocket of space fell away, and it was just them, biting desperate kisses to the other’s lips.

“Fuck, Bob. Your lips are so fucking soft.”

Jake pushes his thigh between Bob’s legs, and the kiss breaks as Bob throws his head back against the wall with a dull thud. The need came on like an explosion, sudden and inevitable, and the adrenaline coursing through his veins only heightened that unbearable heat. Jake nips at the tender flesh on Bob’s neck, pulling sweet whimpers and moans from him.

He hates how whiney he sounds under Jake’s touch, but he can’t hold back the whimpers, when finally, he gets what he wanted for weeks. He can feel Jake smile against his skin, as he places needy kisses along the column of his neck.

“Damn, Bob. Keep making those sweet little noises for me.”

Bob bucks his hips and rubs himself against Jake’s leg with a breathy whine–Jake responds with a guttural growl and sucks kisses to the line of his throat, swipes his tongue along the most sensitive spots.

“Jake, I- please.” he moans, low and quiet, making Jake still and pull away. His eyes are dark with desire and something else, something deeper, more vulnerable.

“Do you want this?” he asks, eyes fixed on Bob and the intensity of his gaze makes Bob’s throat grow tight with tears. He swallows and nods until he trusts his voice enough to answer out loud.

“Yes. God, Jake, I-I want this so bad.”

That was enough. Jake was on him once again, his tongue hot and wet and insistent against his own, unsteady hands fidgeting at the hem of Bob’s t-shirt, only breaking the kiss briefly to pull it over his head, before his trembling hands find their way to the waistband on Bob’s pajama pants, and a desperate moan broke from Bob's throat, immediately swallowed by another kiss from Jake.

Jake suddenly stops, stepping away to look at Bob. Feeling unsure of himself, Bob moves his hands up to cover himself, but Jake stops him. Taking Bob’s hands in his, he kisses his knuckles softly, before looking into his eyes.

“You’re gorgeous, Bob. It’s a good thing you kept your shirt on during the game or I wouldn’t have been able to control myself.”

Giggling softly, Bob blushes to a heavy red. Jake moves closer again, kissing Bob with an unknown hunger. Jake’s hands roam over Bob’s exposed skin, feeling every ridge of his toned chest, a soft ‘fuck’ leaves Jake’s lips as he explores more of Bob’s body.

As Jake runs his hand over Bob’s clothed length, Bob whines desperately, bucking against his hand.

Bob is lost in the wet heat of their mouths against each other, lost in Jake’s greedy hands exploring his body as though their goal was to leave not a single inch of skin untouched, lost in the too much and yet not enough friction of Jakes’s jeans against his hardness.

Jake is still fully clothed. He won’t change that right now. It feels right on some level, to have Bob pinned against the wall, half naked and so vulnerable, with Jake shielding him, put together on the outside as he fell apart and lost control on the inside.

Bob forces his hands to release the fistfuls of fabric he has clung to like a lifeline and brings them up to Jake’s face instead, cupping his cheeks with care, and breaks the kiss. They only separate far enough to look each other in the eyes. Jake panting like he has run a marathon, hot breath puffing against Bob’s kiss-raw lips. Jake smiles as he takes Bob in, flustered with kiss swollen lips.

“Fuck, Bob. You’re so beautiful.”

Bob swallows, and the motion hurts his throat. He rolls his hips against Jake even though the drag of the fabric against his delicate skin borderline hurts, but he just needs him. He needs Jake to feel how much he needs him, and he needs to feel the hard line of Jake's cock pressed against his hip to know he needs him in turn.

Jake’s beautiful eyes grow darker still, green irises almost entirely eclipsed by the black holes of his pupils, and he grinds back into him.

“Take me,” Bob breathes out, and Jake’s tongue darts out to taste his desperate plea. Turning them both around, Jake makes his way over to the bed, their clothes quickly finding its way to the floor. He pushes Bob down onto the soft mattress, before he crawls on top of him, his lips once again claiming Bob’s.

Jake makes his way down Bob’s body, worshipping every inch of him. When he reaches his cock, Bob is painfully hard with a small pearl of precum at the head. Jake looks into his eyes one final time for confirmation. Bob nods and with that, Jake lick the head of his cock, moaning at the taste of him.

“Fuck” he chokes out, eyes closed in pleasure.

Jake licks up the length of him before taking him into his mouth. Jake looks up into Bob’s eyes as he begins moving up and down his shaft. Bob gently places a hand on Jake’s head.

“Oh God!” he groans as Jake suck at his head, his fingers curling in Jake’s hair.

Jake releases him with a soft pop, looking at his blissful face, before flashing him the signature Hangman smirk. “Ready for more?”

Bob nods eagerly, reaching into the drawer of his nightstand to pull out a tube of lube. Jake runs his hands up Bob’s thigh, past his cock and slip it beneath his balls, seeking the entrance. The action makes Bob whimper out desperately. Jake lubes up his fingers and as he returns it to his entrance, Bob lets out a single deep breath, as Jake presses a slick index finger against it.

Bob arched into the touch and keened, both his hands gripping at the sheet and just holds on when the first finger slips past resisting muscle and enters him.

It burns. More than usual, more than it should, but the rest of his body burns for Jake, so he welcomes that ache, that intimate, gentle ache.

Jake waits until his body relaxed around his thick digit, before he pushes the next finger in, and it took a while–almost too long. God, Bob was tight. But in no time the fingers stretching him open meet little enough resistance for Jake to decide Bob is ready and he pulls away.

“No… More, please!” Bob whines, causing Jake to groan. The sight of Bob laying there, face torn in need and pleasure, pleading was almost enough for him to come right then and there.

“You need to tell me what you want.” Jake says softly, already knowing what Bob wants. But he wants to hear it.

“Fuck me… Please…”

Quickly, Jake roams through the pockets of his jeans, pulling out a condom and puts it on. He adds a generous amount of lube. When his eyes meet Bob’s, he has a look of shock on his face, eyeing Jake’s cock.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll go slow. I’ll make you feel good.” Jake laughs softly, reassuring him. Bob nods, licking his lips. Jake shifts slowly, sliding his cock against Bob’s entrance. Jake pushes the head in slowly, but Bob yelps and grabs Jake’s arm. He chokes out his name.

“I know. Fuck, Just- let me…”

Jake slowly pushes all the way in until he is buried to the hilt. Bob is shaking beneath him, and he clings to Jake. Jake keeps still, allowing him to get used to his size. Bob’s eyes are closed in pleasure, the feeling better than anything he’s ever felt before.

Jake exhales against Bob’s ear and kisses his lobe, nosing into Bob’s soft hair and breathed him in like he was a delicate flower, and Bob’s eyes burns like the rest of him did, tears threatening to spill.

“Please. Please, Jake, fuck me-” the rest of his sentence is lost to a sharp thrust of Jake’s hips, and Bob wants to scream but only manages a whine, high and throaty.

It hurts, but fuck, does he want it to. The burn, the stretch, it all meshed with the punishing pace Jake immediately settles into, caught up in his own need, and it is perfect.

Bob head falls back against the mattress with a strangled moan, the vice-grip he had around Jake’s back dragging him along. The angle changes by a fraction, and from one second to the other, Jake was nailing Bob’s prostate dead on with every single thrust; even the vaguest sense of discomfort disappears as stars exploded behind Bob’s tightly screwed shut lids.

The pleasure coursing through his whole form was almost unbearable. His body pulses with pleasure, his desperation only growing, and he yanks Jake in even closer, pulling him to his body until every single one of his senses is overwhelmed with him.

“Talk to me, Bob. Are you good?” he breathes out through ragged breath, lifting his head to look at Bob’s blissed out face. A smile spreads on his face, as his eyes open, blue eyes finding Jake’s green ones.

“I’m very good. Al-almost too good to be true.” Bob says with a grin, shaking his head. Jake laughs softly, before crashing his lips to Bob’s as he thrusts into him harder, pulling a new series of sweet whimpers from Bob.

Jake’s hips snap against Bob’s, making him moan loudly every time Jake thrusts home. Jake feels himself getting closer, his rhythm starts to get uneven. He reaches between the two of them, wrapping his fingers around Bob’s cock.

“Fuck, Jake!”

He throws his head back, tears forming in his eyes. It’s too much, yet he can’t get enough, as Jake works his length in the same rhythm of his thrusts. He shifts, changing the angle just a little, but it’s enough. When Jake thrust into him again, Bob almost stops breathing, his cock twitching in Jake’s hand.

“Oh God… D-do t-that again!” he demands, the words almost incoherent. Jake smiles to himself, as he continues to slam into him. They are both close, so close. Jake can feel it and all it takes is one good push. He presses against his prostate and finally, Bob is coming with a huge moan. His face contorts in pleasure and his whole body stiffens with the intensity of it.

Jake follows shortly after, growling into his neck. He thrust a few more times, riding out his high. When Jake breaks away from his neck, he finds Bob looking at him, a happy and blissful look on his face. Jake can’t help but feel a little cocky and gives Bob another smirk, before kissing him softly.

“Told you I’d make you feel good, baby.”

Bob looks into Jake’s eyes, before pulling him into a soft kiss. The kiss is soft, the intimacy of it almost making Bob cry. Jake is so soft with him, his hands caressing every inch they can reach, and they lay in each other’s arms.

Bob is still afraid of what will happen tomorrow, what will happen with them. But for now, he has placed his heart in Jake’s hands and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Thank you so much for reading <3

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