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#and that i like one eyed fellas
smokbeast · 7 months
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Gold in Twilight
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paranorahjones · 2 months
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you know it's bad when you start journaling about him
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ravenpeckedeyes · 6 months
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Tip of My Tongue
I look at you—
you,
doe-eyed,
shark-smiling,
soft-hearted—
and I think it.
I nearly say it, too.
It bubbles up,
warm and sweet
like milk in a pot.
It fills my mouth,
fuzzy and silencing
like cotton.
I don’t say it.
Not now,
while it’s fresh.
While we’re fresh.
I don’t want to rush
it or you.
I don’t want to seem
odd or desperate.
But I think it.
I think it so loudly
that you must hear it.
I think it so often
that it can be seen in brain scans.
I think it
and think it
and think it.
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bubble-dream-inc · 1 year
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under your skin.
The last walk-in you expected to see in your tattoo parlor in one rainy day was a massive masked behemoth of a man. It came as even more of a surprise when you wanted to see him there again and again; and a final time when he kept coming back.
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Tattoo artist reader
rbs greatly appreciated!
WC: 7K
a/n: listen, as a tattoo artist irl, the first thing i did when i discovered ghost had a tattoo was to think how i had to self indulge. i’d kill to tattoo this man personally. shoutout to @117s-girl, @somnibats and Eddie for the tremendous help when i had writer’s block, and @deafeningcat for the amazing beta read as always <3
tags: fluff, reader being horny for ghost, ghost being slightly ooc, mentions at verbal abuse, slightly suggestive and slight angst.
You remember the first time Simon Riley walked into your shop.
It was a cold and rainy day - like most days in Manchester - and you were idling by, doodling on a notebook by the front desk and listening to whatever was playing on the radio without paying it much attention. Glancing at the clock on the wall where the empty loveseat was, you were starting to wonder if you should go get something to eat while you waited, when the bell on the front door chimed, indicating someone had come in.
At first, you thought he was going to rob you, and in a second you were already kissing your expensive equipment goodbye in your head, cursing the fact you had decided to buy that pricey tattoo machine you were eyeing for so long just last week, but those thoughts vanished when the figure just stood in front of you. Silently, you eyed the skull mask and sunglasses that covered his face, wondering what was this guy’s deal, since it was way too grey outside to be wearing any sort of eyewear. Trying not to let his huge stature looming over you be intimidating, you were about to say something when his gruff voice cut the silence.
“You take walk-ins?” 
So he really was a client, you thought. Rummaging through the notebooks in the desk, you quickly glanced at your schedule, seeing your next client wasn’t supposed to come for a few good hours, and decided you were curious about the masked man.
“Well, it depends. What were you thinking of getting?” 
He stood still for a moment, and you wondered if he heard you at all, but suddenly he reached for something in the pocket of his jeans, extending a neatly folded piece of paper in front of you. His voice filled the silence again as you unfolded the paper, and you found the thick accent oddly calming coming from him. 
“I want it to be a sleeve. Covering my left forearm.”
You opened it to find a surprisingly intricate design, and it seemed like whoever did it made it with the intention of actually getting it as a sleeve. Not taking the masked guy for an artist, you found a signature on the bottom of the page, a chicken scratch that read “Tommy Riley”. Usually, you’d make light conversation and ask about the design, especially when it looked important, but something told you not to pry into this man’s business. Assuming he’s this “Tommy” fella, you just smiled politely, deciding you could fit the first session of it into your work day.
“Sure. It should take a few sessions, though, is that alright with you?” He simply nodded, wordlessly, and you decided that was good enough of an answer. 
Leading him into the procedure room after getting his approval on the price, you made sure to give him a consent form for him to fill out and sign while you traced the design to a stencil - making sure to cut the right adjustments to wrap around his visibly huge forearm. You wondered if he was a weightlifter of sorts, or maybe just a gym rat. 
Transferring the stencil to his skin and prepping your materials for tattooing was a completely silent ordeal, and your client seemed more than content in just letting the silence linger for the remainder of your encounter, and even if you were getting antsy by it, you were glad he didn’t comment on how visibly nervous you were when you wrapped your gloved hands around his arm to make the stencil stick - feeling his warmth and the protruding veins even through the latex that covered your own skin. 
“You have any other tattoos?” You asked, stepping on the machine pedal to make sure your tattoo machine was at the right voltage while he got comfortable setting his arm on the arm rest.
“No.” 
“Cool.” God, you felt awkward. “I’m gonna start now, tell me if it hurts too much.”
“Right.” 
You felt stupid saying that to a man that had arms the size of your head and was at least 6,4. As expected, he didn’t even flinch when the needles touched his skin, but you weren’t about to give up on your mission to make conversation with your mysterious client. While tracing it with the machine, you analyzed the design a bit closer.
“That’s some interesting art.” It wasn’t. It was tacky as hell, all missiles and skulls and other edgy elements, but you were not going to say that to him. “You like guns?”
“Something like that.” 
You gave up trying to chat him up shortly after. Even with the weird dad sunglasses on, you could still feel his stare on you, unnerving at best, and you wondered what was up with the mask. In your line of work, you’d met some interesting individuals, and you considered your shop a safe haven for all outcasts and misfits; you’d known, after all you did decide to pursue tattooing as a career. Still, something about this man - Tommy? - made you feel an itch to see what lied beyond the mask - both figuratively and literally.  At least it would take a few more sessions to finish his piece, hopefully he’d say more than five words at once to you at some point. 
It took you two hours to finish tracing it, and you deemed it was good to go and begin shading another day. Getting into professional mode, you gave him directions on how to care for it and asked him to come back after a month to start on shading it, and, as expected, he only nodded to you. Going back to the front desk, he handed the bills containing the price you had settled on, and turned around, leaving without another word. Out of curiosity, you picked up his file. The first thing you noticed was that he had left the “Occupation” space blank.
The second thing you noticed was that the signature read “Simon Riley”.
☆*: .。. .。.:*☆
Simon didn’t come back after a month. 
A good few months later, you just figured he’d given up and was now walking around with an unfinished tattoo, or, worse, he had picked another artist to finish the job, and the thought made you angrier than you’d like to admit. Despite your annoyance, whenever you’d organize your clients files, you’d find yourself lingering on his, weirdly curious and feeling like he was a puzzle you were dying to solve.
A long time passed - you don’t know how much, but you’d say it was more than a year - before he showed up again, and, once again, it was unannounced. You were finishing a client’s tattoo when your friend - and coworker - knocked on the procedure room door, and when you’d told her to come in, she looked like she had seen a ghost. 
“There’s a guy in the waiting room asking for you. Said you were doing his sleeve…” She quietly announced, and you just stared at her quizzically, waiting for her to continue. "He 's…Big. Tall guy with a creepy skull mask.” 
She whispered the last part so he wouldn’t hear it, even if he was a good corridor distance away and the metal music coming from the radio would drown it out, and after a few moments you realized she was talking about Simon.  You remember answering something to her and finishing the tattoo on auto pilot before heading to the front desk, and, sure enough, Simon was standing there menacingly, in his whole huge aura, seemingly unbothered by how his height, frame, and mask were making the other clients in the shop regard him with uneasy looks. His eyes met yours once you showed up. You noticed he wasn’t wearing the sunglasses anymore, and his fabric mask had been replaced by a simpler balaclava and a hard skull mask on top that you hoped was made out of a synthetic material. 
Now bare, his gaze revealed its intensity to you, the dark hues following your every move in a way you supposed you could find intimidating if a small, very weird part of you didn’t find it attractive. He seemed tired, eyes cast downwards and with bags surrounding it, and you wondered what had happened when he was gone. 
“Hey.” You breathed, straining your neck to look up at him and completely forgetting about the other people in the room. “Riley, right? I’m guessing you’re here for the sleeve?”
He seemed slightly surprised you remembered his name, but the impression of seeing emotion in his eyes was gone in an instant as he simply nodded at you.
“Yeah. You got time?”
You didn’t. But you’d make it work, you weren’t about to send away the man who had, for some reason, plagued your thoughts so much for the last months. 
“I got a few more clients, but if you don’t mind waiting, i can fit you in?”
You hated how uneasy you sounded, your hands fiddling with a stray loose line of your ripped jeans as you waited for his answer.
“That works.” 
With his gruff reply, he turned and sat down in the waiting area, and you released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. 
The hours went by, the clients came and went to and from your procedure room as well as your colleague’s, yet, every single time you left the room to go to the front desk have a sip of water or check your next client’s name, Simon was still there, patiently waiting, the loveseat seeming oddly small under him, and his all black, dark getup blending perfectly with the black walls of the studio. If anything, it made you even more intrigued, since most people would have left by now, considering how long a tattoo takes and he could just come back another day, but he didn’t show any signs of having anywhere else to be. The people traffic started to wind down, and soon enough, you dismissed your last client of the day as you were the only artist left in the shop and the sun had already hid in the horizon. 
“Glad to see you again. I was wondering if you had gotten another artist.” You laughed somewhat nervously, taking a breather by the glass door while Simon finished filling out another responsibility form, and you had to ignore how nervous you felt when he turned to glance at you with those dark and intense eyes of his.
“Got busy, that’s all.” He murmured, setting the pen down on the front desk and turning to the wall where your flash pieces were displayed. “And I like your work.”
Feeling your eyes widen, you tried to conceal how flustered the comment made you feel behind a cool chuckle, but something told you Simon could see right through you. Going back inside and pointing him towards the procedure room, you briefly glanced at the fresh consent form and realized he filled out his occupation this time, the words “Army” surprisingly not phasing you one bit.
Simon was the same as the last time, quiet as a grave. But, seeing as you were wrapping up the shading quicker than you’d anticipated, you decided this time you would not let this mysterious man walk out of your studio - possibly forever - without at least getting one piece of information out of him.
“So…does it mean anything?” You nodded towards his arm, trying to play it cool. Being in this field, you quickly realized not everyone gets tattoos that mean anything, and most of them are really just for aesthetics, but the signature below the original design had you wondering, even if the newfound information that he was in the military made the over the top missiles and dog tags inked on his arm make a lot more sense. He stared at you from behind the mask for a moment, making you feel queasy under his stare and suddenly very aware of how much you were draped over his arm trying to get the shading on one particular skull to look just right.
“Yeah.” After a few moments he replied, a wave of sudden relief washing over you upon realizing you had not, in fact, crossed a line. “My brother made it.”
“He’s quite the artist.”
“He really was.”
Oh. 
You decided to drop the subject after the implication.
“And what branch are you in?” Not looking at him, you spoke in a low tone, too concentrated on the machine in your hands to realize you were maybe asking more than he was comfortable talking. “You know, uh, in the army.”
“Special Air Forces.” You realized he tensed almost imperceptibly, relaxing once you only hummed.
“Cool. I’d reckon you guys had tattoo parlors closer to base, though.” 
“We do.” He huffed. “But I know the guys. Not nearly as clean as here.”
At that, you chuckled gently, missing the way Simon’s eyes softened at the sound.
You continued the piece in comfortable silence, distantly registering the pitter-patter of the rain that had just started falling on the street beyond the front doors. Finishing it up, faster than you would have liked, you decided the corny design looked good - really good - on him, and he might have been the only guy possible to pull it off, which could have been related to how big and strong his arms looked. Wrapping the tattoo in plastic film and reminding him to not keep it on for too long, you had to focus on acting professional and not let him know you were ogling at the recently inked piece of skin. The long sleeve shirt he had rolled up to his forearms did not help you one bit, nor did the way his eyes followed your every single movement.
When you got back to the front desk - relieved to find the rain had stopped - you expected Simon to just pay and leave silently the same way he did the last time, but he actually lingered, letting his eyes wander through the flash pieces displayed in a neat corkboard in the waiting room - this one with your name written on top. You actually don’t know when he got your name - something told you it was when he asked your coworker for you. He seemed quite interested in one particular design that had been gathering dust for a long time on the board, considering how big it was.
“See something you like?” You followed his gaze, realizing it was a ram skull chest piece you had completely forgotten about; it looked too dark and menacing for most people looking for walk-ins and flash tattoos. “That one was meant to be a chest piece. Works for the back, too.”
Simon studied it for a few moments. What was up with this guy and skulls? Finally, he turned to you.
“When can you do it?”
☆*: .。. .。.:*☆
The third time Simon Riley walked into your studio, it was, by far, the most memorable one. 
Unsurprisingly enough, he had decided to set an appointment for the chest piece to be the last one of your day, a week later; whether he enjoyed the night time better or just wanted to not be bothered with other people around, that was a mystery to you. There was a third option in the back of your head, but you told yourself it was delusional, and your fascination with the masked man was, in fact, one sided. That didn’t stop you from greeting him with a cheery smile as you looked up from where you were doodling on your notebook on the front desk, pretty much like your first encounter. However, you didn’t think too much of what exactly the chest piece implied as you headed to your procedure room with Simon in tow. It hit you like a ton of bricks when you freezed for a second, holding up the carbon stencil in your hands.
“Uh, you might wanna…take off your shirt. It’ll be more comfortable for you.” 
Preparing the stencil gel, you tried your best to ignore him and not let your eyes wander too much as he lifted the unnecessarily tight black t-shirt over his head, careful as to not remove the balaclava and skull mask combo, folding it neatly and setting the piece of cloth over your table before standing next to you in front of the full body mirror. 
I’m a professional. I’m a professional. I’m a professional.
If you thought Simon was huge before, that was an understatement. 6,4 feet of pure, naked muscle stood inches away from your much smaller body, and you were extremely relieved to realize that he had, probably out of consideration for you, shaved his chest beforehand - the same couldn’t be said for the faint happy trail very clearly peeking from his jeans, sitting way lower on his hips than you’d like. Scolding yourself over and over for fawning like a horny teenager, you hoped the nervous tremble in your hands as you delicately smoothed the gel over his collarbones wasn’t as obvious as you felt it was. Even through the latex gloves you could feel the heat coming from his pecs, as well as a few minor scars that shouldn’t give you too much trouble. You decided to ignore the very visible and very big bullet scar on his side. As he adjusted his dog tags to hang behind his neck so as to not get in your way, you finally peeled the stencil off, trying to calm your frantic beating heart as he analyzed it in the mirror to make sure it was in the right placement. 
It got worse when he actually laid on the tattoo table - comically dwarfed under his enormous frame. Sure, you had tattooed a fair share of chests along the years - both men’s and women’s - and it never really flustered you, after all, it was your job, seeing skin was a very big part of it. However, as you lowered your torso on the bed and tried to adjust your hand to sit as comfortably as possible on his chest, you thanked the gods it was such a big tattoo; you had no idea how you wouldn’t mess it up if it was a tiny one. But you doubted Simon would ever get a tiny tattoo. Above all, you could appreciate how he maintained his breathing slow and steady and, again, didn’t even flinch as the needles touched him, making you like him as a client even more. 
“I’ve heard you guys in the army got…codenames?” You started, desperate to start some conversation before your intrusive thoughts won. “What do they call you?”
Slowly, you were getting used to his brief silence before answering you. It seemed like his way to decide if your question was worth answering or not, and you were glad he had found them all to be so far. 
“Ghost.”
“Very fitting.”
You were surprised to hear him exhale in a way that resembled a very weak laugh, and you felt giddy knowing you made your ever so quiet and serious client laugh - or something like that. Feeling calmer, you continued the very big piece, strapping in for a long next couple of hours.
They passed quickly, your hand working almost in autopilot as you traced the tattoo’s lineart and made light conversation with Simon - Ghost. You learned he was a Lieutenant, liked bourbon and the mask never came off. Granted, it was mostly you speaking and him answering, but you were glad he was entertaining your nervous ramblings, and you were only slightly embarrassed to admit to yourself you found his southern British accent very soothing on his deep, gruffy voice. In turn, you told him a little more about yourself; why you got into tattooing and even a few funny stories from dealing with past clients. 
Finally deciding it was enough strain on his skin for one session, you set your machine down and admired your work, smiling under your mask. Taking a generous amount of the tattooing balm on your fingers, you swallowed your nervousness before gently spreading the substance on his chest so it would heal nicely, not missing the way he relaxed under your touch. If you weren’t so busy panicking by having your hands on such a massive and attractive man, you could ponder on how he seemed to be enjoying that as much as you were. With your approval, he got up to examine the piece on the mirror, and you caught yourself staring into his strong, chiseled, and scarred back, before averting your eyes, choosing to focus instead on cleaning up the inky mess you made on your trolley. You once again went through the now familiar ordeal of him silently thanking you, paying, and leaving into the night.
As Simon Riley left the studio that day, carrying an unfinished piece of your work right on his chest, you realized something clearly had changed in the air between you two. You just had no idea if it was a good or bad thing.
☆*: .。. .。.:*☆
The next time Simon showed up, a month later, you were stressed out of your mind.
You were booked, so you didn’t really have any open spots next to closing time the way he liked it, so he had to settle for coming a bit earlier than usual, which meant there were actually other people in the studio for once, including the one on the front desk yelling in your face.
You couldn’t really remember what he was yelling about, just that you were suddenly regretting your decision of working with people and wondering if it was worth it to stoop down low and insult him back the way he was doing to you. You figured the moment he started yelling about his already finished tattoo that it was most likely another scam attempt coming from him, but it didn’t really matter anymore once you zeroed in on the hulking figure that showed up unexpectedly behind your unpleasant client in the form of your masked savior. For a moment, you were scared things were going to get violent, but Simon didn’t have to do much. It took one glower from him, his gaze sharp enough to cut from way above the smaller man, and he was suddenly stuttering apologies and leaving the studio in a hurry. You ignored the looks the other people in the waiting room were giving the two of you, offering a tired, but extremely grateful smile, to Ghost.
“Hey, Riley.”
He was still staring at where the man had left, and the annoyance on his usually so stoic gaze came as a surprise to you. 
“What happened?” 
You were already heading into the procedure room, too shaken to deal with the stares of the people in the waiting room any longer, and shot him a sheepish look from over your shoulder. 
“Just a rude client being difficult. Not the first time he gave me trouble, either, but it happens.” 
Simon didn’t seem too happy with your answer, but he let it slide, for the moment. Heading into the room and closing the door behind you, the air fell into a familiar silence, broken only by the cluttering sounds as you set up your supplies, and, to you, your still frantic heartbeat in your ears by the less than pleasant interaction just a few minutes earlier. It was unlikely, given how observant he was, but you hoped Simon didn’t pick up on just how shaken you were. Still, you took a few moments to calm yourself down as you tested the machine with your feet; Simon had already made himself comfortable on the table, and soon enough you fell into the rhythm of inking him, the same way you had grown used to in those last few months. Focusing on a particularly stubborn piece of skin where the ink didn’t paint as easily, you were lost in thought when his voice pulled you back to reality.
“Are you scared of me?” You heard him ask quietly from above you, instantly knowing he was referring to the way your earlier client had run off on the sight of him. Pausing your ministrations, you looked up from his chest to find him already staring at you in a way that made your heart skip a beat. Since you were currently working on the details on his collarbone, you haven’t realized how close you actually were to his face, and suddenly you were hit with the realization you could feel his breath through both your masks; and an intoxicating scent of cigarette smoke and cologne. Caught in a trance by his dark gaze, you realized a little too late you were gawking and not really answering his question, which made you feel very glad for the surgical mask covering your suddenly very red face and flustered expression. Looking down to continue your work, you tried to find your words once again.
“Not really. I mean, the mask was off-putting at first, but I've had some odd people as clients. You’re cool, though. You remind me of those big, scary guard dogs, but in a good way.” Cringing at the lame answer, you felt like a kid talking to her crush in middle school all over again, and the huff-slash-chuckle that left Simon only made it worse. It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t, and in your flustered stupor you couldn’t find any words either, so you just let the air around you fall into a comfortable silence over again. If it were anyone else, you’d be wary of the constant quietness, but, for some reason, Simon’s presence was enough to make you content, even if no words were exchanged. 
Blacking out the parts that had to be inked was a piece of cake for you and your enormous needle - which you were glad was being used on Simon, since, most of your other clients would have been crying from the pain only halfway done with the black - and soon enough you were heading out to the front with him, readying yourself to bid him goodbye and, disappointedly, only see him again in the next month, once his tattoo was healed enough for another session, however, as you approached the waiting room, he made no move to leave. You thought maybe he was, again, inspecting your work displayed on the wall, the prospect of continuing to tattoo him after his chest piece was done getting you giddy already, but he was looking nowhere but in your direction, eyes unreadable behind the skull mask.
“I’ll wait until you close. Who knows if that asshole won’t come back expecting me not to be here anymore.” 
Blinking up at him, it took you a few moments to process what he had murmured under his breath, and, in an instant, your heart rate shot up as you tried to wrap your head around the implications. Had it been any other client, you would have laughed it off, telling him not to worry and that you could take care of yourself, but it wasn’t just about anyone. It was him. And for some reason, the fact made you only wordlessly agree with a nod of your head and wide eyes, certain he could now see how clearly flustered and red your face looked. An intrusive part of your brain was screaming at you that he was just being nice, and that the protectiveness was just because of his job and nothing else, but you’d entertain these thoughts later - if ever.
So, much like the second time you’d met him, the rest of your afternoon was spent with seeing Ghost’s massive figure patiently waiting in the way too small loveseat in the front room of the studio, living up to the scary guard dog imagery you had joked about to him, except, this time, in between clients you’d sit besides him to catch a break and make light conversation, the deep rumble of his voice soothing all of your worries in a minute. 
As the hours went by, it was way past nightfall when you closed up, everyone else had already left and you were exhausted after washing the studio on your own. True to his word, Simon loomed behind you like a shadow, quiet and intimidating, refusing to leave until he had walked you to your car in safety. You remember thanking him profusely, and him not making a big deal out of it, and the way your heart thrummed in your throat as you drove on autopilot to your house, trying to ignore the way Ghost’s figure walking besides you on the quiet sidewalk a few moments before felt just right. 
☆*: .。. .。.:*☆
It was early August when you woke up in a very good mood that one morning.
Later you’d realize it was because it was the day of Simon’s appointment, but at the time you had chalked it up to just being a sunny day that brightened your spirits.
Business as usual, you went along your day, anxiously waiting for the place to empty out and you’d get your newly discovered favorite customer, not that you’d admit it outloud to him, or even to yourself. It was actually a slower day, with a big break between clients, which you were glad about, so between coffee and water breaks and chit chatting with your coworkers, soon enough the sun went down and the enormous figure of Ghost could be seen crossing the threshold of the studio’s glass door, responding your enthusiastic wave with a nod of his head, eyes relaxed behind the mask. As usual, he followed you inside the procedure room, and you remembered something.
“Lemme see how your sleeve is healing.” Extending your hand, you smiled cheekily at him, giddy after seeing his half-hearted eye roll, and he gave his left forearm for you to inspect. With his busy way of life, you’d have expected to be worse, but it was actually very well taken care of. “Wow, this has healed up perfectly, good job, Simon!”
You beamed up at him, but your smile faltered once you saw his eyes widening at the praise. Oops. He grumbled something in response and you decided to save him the embarrassment, releasing his arm with a chuckle.
No matter how many times he did it, every single time Ghost took his shirt off it made your brain short circuit, but you remained professional and fell into the familiar routine of tattooing him in comfortable silence, only this time it was broken not only by you talking first, but also him. It surprised you to hear him ask you questions first or tell you some non-compromising stories about his job, - making you chuckle a few times hearing about the shenanigans of this “Soap” friend of his - but you weren’t about to complain. You were lost in the familiarity of it all when you realized that you were actually almost done with the shading - meaning his chest piece would end one session earlier than expected. Trying to mask your disappointment, you wrapped it up, forcing a smile to a suddenly very confused Ghost. 
“I thought we were going to need another session but, uh, turns out it was…faster than i expected!” You gave him a slight, nervous chuckle, and you swore you saw his eyes widen behind the mask. 
As usual, you wrapped the ink in the plastic film - finding it very hard to make the masking tape stick to his large pecs - and gave the same instructions in a robotic way, following him to the front desk where he finished paying for his piece, all in absolute silence and with unreadable eyes. As the transaction was finished, he lingered, standing silently in front of you, looming. You couldn’t meet his eyes.
“So, yeah, i guess that’s it…” You gave another chuckle, offering him a gentle smile. “Hey, don’t be a stranger-”
“Do you want to go out with me sometime?” He blurted out, shutting you right up, and that stopped you dead in your tracks. You stared up at him, unsure if you had heard him correctly, and were waiting for him to say something else or even backtrack, but that never came.
“Uh. Yes? I mean, yes, sure! I’d love to!” You stammered, certain you were wide-eyed and a flustered mess, not expecting him to be so straightforward, or, even say anything at all. Simon seemed a lot more composed than you, even if the way he blurted his question out made it seem like he could be slightly nervous. You doubted he ever got nervous, though. 
“Great. Does this weekend work for you?” 
Thinking back on your schedule, you remembered that no, it didn’t.
“I’m booked with work…But, the next one I should be free.” You hated how awkward you sounded.
He nodded, and took his phone out of his pocket to extend it for you, and you assumed he was asking for your number in the Ghost-est fashion possible. You unlocked it, noticing the lack of a password and the factory wallpaper, realizing it was probably a personal and barely used phone, punching your number in and saving the contact. As you returned the device to Simon, you found solace in realizing he probably felt as awkward as you did.
“I’ll see you in a fortnight, then.” 
With a last nod of his head, he left, leaving you flustered, confused, but extremely giddy, and with a heart pounding against your ribcage. 
☆*: .。. .。.:*☆
Simon came back a week before he was supposed to.
As usual, you were closing up shop when he showed up, distractedly walking around the front room of the studio as you organized everything for the night, the sound of the heavy rain outside covering up the creaking of the glass door, so when you turned around, his presence startled you. 
“Hi Simon! You’re early.” You chuckled once you recovered from your scare, but he didn’t match your energy. He was just standing there, stiff as a plank, and staring silently at you. Growing increasingly worried, you were about to ask if he was alright when he beat you to it. 
“I’m leaving for a mission. And i’ll be gone for…some time.” 
Your heart dropped, and you could only stare at his mask trying to process his words and find words, but ultimately settling on a quiet and disappointed oh. He finally approached you, and in less than a second he was standing towering over your figure, holding you in that familiar eye contact you’d grown to look forward to so much, even if you'd realized by his gaze that he seemed just as upset as you. 
“Will you…be in danger?” It was a dumb question, but you couldn’t help yourself, everything you told yourself the days about moving slowly and waiting for your first date to decide how much you cared flying out the window as you openly worried for him for the first time. Ghost sighed, and suddenly you were hyper aware of how close you stood.
“I always am.” 
Not breaking away from his intoxicating gaze, your words lowered to a whisper, a plea.
“Be careful. Please.” 
The air stilled around you, thicker in tension that got worse with each passing millisecond, all of those feeling like hours. Simon’s height had never seemed so intimidating, and you never chastised yourself so much before for liking how his intense aura made you feel, something that increased tenfold once he boldly got even closer to you. Opening and closing your mouth like a fish, hoping something would come out eventually, you stilled upon feeling his gloved hands gingerly touching your face - dwarfing you in them - and you swore your heart was about to leap from your chest to your throat in a matter of seconds. His steely gaze flickered downwards briefly before returning to your eyes, asking for permission for something you didn’t even know quite right what it was, but that you’d give him regardless. The rough texture of his gloved left hand reached your now slightly parted lips as he traced the bottom of them with his thumb, moving his other hand to slowly lift up his balaclava just enough to expose his - unsurprisingly - sharp, stubbled jaw and full, lightly scarred lips. You barely had time to admire what you could see of him before his face was merely inches apart from yours, your breaths mingling together from both of your parted lips.
“You don’t even know what I look like.” He mumbled against you. A silent beg for you to stop him now, but you wouldn’t even dream of it.
“I don’t care.” You breathed back, voice barely above a whisper, and that seemed to break his resolve, as in the next moment he was leaning in and finally capturing your lips with his. 
Kissing Simon Riley in real life was so much better than what you imagined. His height made it that he had to lean down an awkward amount to reach you and you actually had to stand a bit on your toes, but none of that mattered as you finally felt his lips move against yours, surprisingly slow and gentle for a man that looked like that, but you supposed he was always full of surprises. He moved his hands from your face to your waist, gripping with a little more force when you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, encouraging him to kiss you harder - it would be a waste not to feel just how strong those huge arms of his could get wrapping around you. Groaning into your mouth, his touch soon became ravenous as he tasted you like a starved man, both of you now knowing it might as well be the last time you’d see each other, but you didn’t want to dwell too much on it, choosing instead to focus on the way he gripped the back of your thighs and lifted you onto the counter as if you weighed nothing, getting even impossibly closer to your smaller frame, never breaking the kiss. You felt like you could stay wrapped up in his arms for hours, but at some point you had to part your lips, keeping your foreheads touching and looking at each other without saying another word.
He waited until you closed up and walked you to your car again; except, this time, as you watched his retreating figure from the rearview mirror, your chest felt constricted, the unsureness of if he’d ever come back alive clenching your throat in fear. 
☆*: .。. .。.:*☆
The late june spring air smelled good, and you were in high spirits. 
You hummed contently, cleaning with a paper towel wet with soapy water the last smudges on the inked skin, leaning back to admire your work. The black crow on his upper back turned out particularly good, and you found it amusing how its edgy nature went along well with the other tattoos already on his body. Spreading the hydrating vaseline to wrap the piece up took a little more than you’d take with other clients, since you were busy admiring and feeling up the strong, scarred back beneath your fingertips. 
“All done!” 
The man got up, admiring the crow in an awkward angle in front of the full body mirror, and you couldn’t help but keep staring at the muscular back and pecs that you could see from your position in your chair.
“Quit the ogling.”
His voice sounded gruffy, but slightly amused, which made you chuckle and get up, stopping by his side to lean against his huge arms and stare back at him through the mirror.
“Quit being hot, then.”
Simon rolled his eyes, but you knew he was smiling under the mask and possibly had the slightest red dusting his cheeks - since he was so pale, you’d always notice it when he had his mask off, and in turn, he’d always notice how you’d stare at his face with a smug smile. He looked over the tattoo once more before you wrapped it up, past the stage of giving him the instructions, all of them already second nature to him, considering it had been so many years he started getting tattooed by you.
“You know” You started as he followed you to the front door of the mostly empty studio, the only other sound being the tattoo machine of a single other coworker that was staying late in their own procedure room. “You don’t have to wait for me, you know I still got another client and it should take one or two hours more.” 
Ghost huffed, turning to you with his hands on his jacket pockets, the height difference between you never failing to take all the air out of your lungs.
“Nonsense. He’s not supposed to be here for another half an hour, right? I’ll go grab us some dinner from that place you like and I’ll be right back. I’ll help you close up then we can go home.” 
You shook your head with a giggle, watching as he came closer to you, and were about to protest more but he gave you a look that left no chance for you to be stubborn, shutting you right up. Taking one hand out of his pocket, Simon lifted his mask just enough for you to see his jaw - which you had already admired that morning while he was shaving - and his lips, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your cheek. You smiled, feeling him murmur just so you could hear it.
“See you in a minute, love.”
With that, he left, leaving you to watch fondly his retreating form from the glass door, as you chuckled dreamily one last time and went back to your procedure room.
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slut-for-evans-stan · 6 months
Text
Mission Accomplished
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader
Word count: 3.4k+
Summary: Ben and you can't stay in the same room without wanting to rip each other's hearts out. The Boys, tired of dealing with you, decide to take matters into their own hands by tricking you two into completing your most crucial mission yet— resolving your problems. One thing leads to another and you discover that there was an easier, much more enjoyable method to resolve everything between you all along. (I'm sorry I suck at summaries.)
Warnings: SMUT!!!! (18+), Enemies to Lovers, Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy, Dirty talk, oral (m+f rec), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it fellas), hate fucking!? (kind of), rough sex, swearing, choking, squirting, creampie.
a/n: this is my very first time writing smut. Not proofread, please pardon me for errors if any! I tried my best :')
I'd really appreciate if you could like, comment and/or reblog, it'll make me really happy <3
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Being a Supe with extraordinary powers didn't mean you were ready to exploit people for clout, with how things were at Vought. So when Starlight and Hughie learnt that you declined Ashley's offer to have you join the Seven, they convinced you to join hands with The Boys to ensure that the arrogant liars claiming to be "Saviours of the World" got what they deserved. Despite feeling a bit unwelcome at first due to Butcher's distant behaviour, you quickly settled in and felt accepted, and connected to everyone in the team, everyone except the newest member to join forces with you all to help in taking down Homelander and others; Soldier Boy.
In the dimly lit room, stood Soldier Boy in his silk robe, a cigarette in one hand, one leg on the bed, the other supporting his weight on the floor; his back facing the door. Upon hearing a soft knock, he turned around with a smug grin on his face. He began,
"Well, hello there gorgeous! You've sure kept me waiting long enough for someone who made eager promises to choke on my dick."
Unamused, and somewhat disgusted by his comment, you shot him a stern look,
"I'm not here for your entertainment, I need to run a few tests on you. So it'll be nice if you'll please spare a few minutes before you run off to get your dick wet. We need to be sure that you're not going to explode and kill us all."
Soldier Boy's smirk echoed through his room as he eyed you with an amazed expression. Undeterred, he sauntered over to you, leaning in and mistaking your seriousness for a mere challenge.
"Sure. Whatever it is, let's get it over with. Maybe after this, you and I could-"
You cut him off with an icy glare
"Save the charm for someone who cares. I don't have time for this bullshit, we've a mission coming up."
From your very first meeting that started with a misunderstanding, it would've been an understatement to say that Soldier Boy annoyed every living cell in your body. You were both constantly arguing and bickering about something or the other, always at each other's throats.
Soldier Boy's deep, intimidating voice echoed through the room, your comment having hit a nerve.
"You know what, you're insufferable."
"At least I'm not stuck up." he shot back.
What should've been a meeting to discuss the upcoming mission, turned into yet another baseless argument between the two of you. Making your teammates uncomfortable with every passing moment. Hughie, Frankie, Kimiko and others exchanged uneasy glances as the tension thickened. You continued,
"I can't believe I've to be stuck with an unbearable asshole as you. Butcher I think I'm gonna skip this mission. Don't want us to end up in another mess like the last time."
At this point, it seemed like you were both minutes away from strangling each other. Soldier boy chuckled,
"Why, you're so intimidated by a real hero you want to hide away like a pussy?"
Eyebrows raised, you retorted, "Real hero!? More like a reckless liability. I've seen toddlers with better impulse control."
Sensing a storm brewing, Hughie spoke with a shaky voice, attempting to intervene and diffuse the situation. "Can we focus, guys? We have a mission-"
Your gaze never wavered from the supe. "I'll focus when he stops acting like he's better than everyone else. He is not the only one with superpowers here, he might be strong but he doesn't scare or intimidate me in the slightest."
Rolling his eyes, Soldier Boy muttered, "I wouldn't need to if you could follow a plan for once in your life."
Butcher commented shutting you all up "Oi. Enough! No one is backing out. You two should go fuck it out or something, whatever issues you stupid cunts have with each other. Don't need any fuck ups in the mission."
The tension spilled into the supposed battlefield, your bickering a dangerous undertone to the chaos around you. Clashing on missions, your mutual disdain fielding your actions, each vying to outdo the other. Yet beneath the surface, a spark lingered, an undeniable attraction that you both, despised and desired, but neither of you wanted to acknowledge.
On a particularly precarious mission, your incessant bickering almost jeopardized the entire operation.
Amidst the mayhem, you found yourself pinned down by one of the opponents, wounded and unable to use your powers, and Soldier boy reluctantly came to your rescue.
You grunted, "I didn't need your help."
He shot back, "Don't get used to it. I'm saving the mission, not your sorry ass."
Watching the scene unfold from a distance, your teammates exchanged knowing looks. After the mission, they decided they'd have enough, and decided to take matters into their own hands, realising that the unresolved tension between you two threatened not just personal dynamics but the success of missions itself.
On Butcher's suggestion, the team tricked the two of you into thinking there was another mission but instead locking you up in a safe house together,
"Sort this out, or we'll all end up as collateral damage."
warned Hughie before haphazardly shutting the door and leaving, forcing you to confront your issues, facing a choice: either talk and resolve the conflict or risk tearing each other apart. Silence filled the room. However, it was short lived.
Taking a deep breath, you plopped on the sofa across from where he sat and spoke as calmly as you could.
"Great, those little shits tricked us."
Soldier Boy scowled, "This is ridiculous. I don't need couple's therapy, I need a way out of here. I'm gonna beat the shit out of these fucknuts."
This made you roll your eyes and cross your arms. "Maybe if you weren't so intolerable, we wouldn't be stuck in this situation in the first place."
As another argument filled the space, the air in the small living room of the safe house shifted. Soldier Boy's tone somewhat softened, revealing a vulnerability he rarely showed.
"You think I enjoy being like this? Constantly on edge, wondering if I'll turn into a goddamn weapon."
You sighed, your defenses momentarily crumbling.
"I didn't sign up for this either, you know. Being a supe's babysitter wasn't in my job description."
As you bickered, underlying desire simmered beneath the surface. Soldier Boy's gaze lingered a moment too long, making a very visible flush rise in your cheeks.
A smug grin playing on his lips, as he said,
"You can't resist me, can you? Admit it, there's something between us, more serious than all this bickering. You know, I think you want me-"
You cut him off, but your voice wavered. "Keep dreaming, I still can't stand you." This remark gave rise to another banter.
"Don't get over yourself. I was only pulling your leg. You're insufferable."
Accusations started flying like daggers, each word cutting deeper than the last. You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge, making your way back into the living room, catching him intently staring at you. Frustration morphed into a heated exchange of longing glances.
Tension crackled in the air, and just when it seemed the room might implode, his expression shifted.
He got up from the sofa, walking over to you, cornering you till your back hit the wall. He leaned in, his eyes darkening with a growing desire, his voice dropping to a low, almost conspiratorial tone.
"You know what? Maybe you're right. I can't stand you, because everytime I look at you, this is all I want to do."
You arched an eyebrow, caught off guard. "Wait, what?" But before you could process what was happening, his lips crashed against yours in a passionate kiss, making the beer bottle fall from your hands, effectively silencing any protests. You caught hold of the shirt he was wearing, kissing him back with equal fervour, savoring the moment as if it was a dream that would end all too soon. All your pent up anger and frustration showed up as the two of you desperately tore at each other clothes, never once breaking the kiss. A battle of tongues. He only pulled back for a second, with a sly grin on his face, his eyes dark, pupils dilated with glimmers of lust.
"There, no need to argue when we can do this instead. We should've figured this out sooner." Rubbing you over your panties with two of his fingers, he groaned.
"You're such a slut. So wet already and I haven't even touched you. You want to get railed till you can't walk, don't you?"
Before you had a chance to say anything, he reclaimed your lips in a hunger fuelled kiss. The room once filled with tension, now crackled with a different kind of energy. Pieces of both your clothings flew across the room. Soldier boy lifted you up and carried you to the small table in the kitchen and set you down hurriedly. The two of you continued to kiss while he rid you both of the remaining pieces of clothing. He kissed you like a mad man, biting and marking every inch of your skin he could in his desperate need to be close to you. Starting from your neck, moving to your tits, taking one nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting it while palming and squeezing the other roughly, then switching and doing the same to the other one. He moved back up to place another rough kiss to your lips, both of you moaning and biting each other's tongues and lips, intoxicated with the feeling of being so close. With an animalistic growl he parted, giving you a look so intense, it could scare the bravest of people.
"When you feel the need to scream, moan my name. Scream it as loud as you can."
With that he roughly nudged your legs apart as wide as they could go and dived right in, eating you out like man starved, licking and sucking your most sensitive parts like it was his last meal. You pulled his hair, legs shaking and trembling with pleasure. His gruff beard giving you a delicious burn, that would heal in no time. He started flicking your clit with his tongue and entered two of his fingers inside you, moving them in and out rapidly. When he added two more fingers, you lost it. Screaming his name and cumming all over his face, your legs wrapped around his head, making it impossible for him to move away.
"Fuck. Ben. I can't-"
you tried pulling away but he didn't stop even then, holding you down with his arms, making you cum two more times before finally deciding to let go. You were dazed in pleasure, but still wanted more. Jumping down the table, and on your knees, you made eye contact with him as you slowly took his long, thick and veiny cock in your hand, stroking him and giving a few kitten licks from the base to the tip and sucking off the beads of precum, moaning at the salty taste, making him groan. You then looked up at him, taking him as far as you could before pulling back again and asking him to fuck your face. He hesitated for a second but his resolve crumbled as soon as you opened your mouth, showing him you were waiting for him. He grabbed your head with both his hands and pushed himself into your mouth, roughly thrusting in and out again and again, moaning your name, cussing like a maniac. You could tell he was close, and then he held your head as close as possible, making you gag a little, his eyes closing, his head thrown back, as ropes of his cum shot down your throat.
In ragged breaths, he said "Be a good little slut and swallow it all."
As you did, you opened your mouth with your tongue out, showing no remnants of his release. He chuckled, pulling you up by your arms, surprising you with a softness in his gaze as he asked
"You sure you want to go further? If you don't, we'll stop right here and pretend this never happened-" you cut him off with an aggressive kiss "Fuck me as hard as you can. I won't break. Take all your frustrations out on me."
With that he smirked and rapidly turned you around, bending your back and shoving your face on the table with his hand, setting it for support right by your head. He entered you with one brutal thrust, making the both of you moan and groan loudly, not giving you a second to adjust as he started ramming his cock into you, hard and deep, his hips moving at an inhuman speed.
"That's it. This is what you wanted right? Now take it. I don't think I'm ever going to let you go after this. You feel so good. Gonna make you my personal little fuck toy. Such a perfect fit."
Hearing all the filth leave his mouth made you clench around him, making him throw his head back in pleasure, never once letting his pace falter.
"Ah you love this. I can tell by the way your tight pussy's choking my dick."
At this point, all rational thoughts had left your brain and all you could do was moan and revel in the pleasure he was giving you. One thing you knew for sure was that he had ruined everyone else for you. After a few moments he moved the hand on your back between your legs to rub your clit and you started screaming in pleasure, feeling yourself flying close to the edge. As soon as Ben realised how close you were, he pulled out and turned you around, lifting you on the table and onto your back, swiftly entering you again.
"I know you're close. I wanna see your face when you cum all over me."
He moved his hand back between your legs to rub your clit in circles, while his other hand moved to your neck, choking you, as he went back to thrusting at his original, rough pace. This new angle somehow making him go deeper than before, hitting that one spot that made you see stars.
"Fuck. I don't think I can last long either."
To that, you finally managed to say
"Cum with me."
which sounded more like a moan than a sentence. You both looked into each other's eyes, moaning, grabbing each other, raking your nails all over his gorgeous, broad shoulders, not breaking the eye contact once. After a particularly hard thrust, you felt a funny sensation, one that you have rarely ever felt, only while pleasing yourself and before you knew, you screamed and started squirting your release, coming undone while Ben kept thrusting into you.
"Oh yes. Fuck. That's so hot baby. Cum all over me. I don't think I'll ever get enough of the look on your face right now. I think I've finally managed to shut you up, fucked your brains out. Fuck I'm cumming."
His thrusts grew frantic, and much harder than before, kissing you roughly, your teeth clashing, and he finally slammed his hips into yours one last time, holding your hips so tight, you were sure you would bruise for atleast a few hours, despite your super healing abilities. Groaning and grunting in his deep voice as thick ropes of his cum filled you to the brim, triggering yet another release out of you, making you squirt even more. He collapsed on top of you, careful that he wasn't crushing you with his weight.
The two of you stayed like that, entangled with each other for a few minutes, trying to catch your breath, before he slowly pulled out of you, making you both wince at the sudden loss. As he walked to the living room, "That was it" you thought, a one time rendezvous with Soldier Boy that might have either helped you two or made things worse. He sauntered back in with a towel in hand, towards the sink to wet it, also filling up a glass of water and quietly walking to you, cleaning you up without a word, handing the glass for you to drink. Taking it from him, you looked at him mumbled a soft "thank you", getting down the table, you nudged him to walk out with you, sitting down on the couch and covering yourself with a blanket, while he picked up his surprisingly untorn boxers, putting them on and sitting next to you, making you turn to face him. You both understood you needed to talk about what had just happened.
The shared realisation that the animosity between you two that had led to this impulsively passionate encounter, had somewhere blurred the lines between desire and hate.
Ben began to say "Look, about earlier... I didn't mean half the things I said."
You replied "What? You didn't mean it when you said you want to kiss me and do other filthy things to me everytime you see me?"
Taken aback, with a raised eyebrow and confused express Ben said, "Oh no, no lies there. I've wanted you from the moment I saw you."
You cut him off saying "I know, I was just pulling your leg. I've felt the same way about you. Your reputation preceded you and it made me crazy knowing I still wanted you."
He replied, "I think we let our tempers get the best of us." sighing, he continued "I care about you more than I let on."
Which made you sigh in response. "Then why do you never act like it? Making me think of you as a douche who loves berating me?"
Ben ran his fingers through his hair. "I guess I feel scared. Scared of how much of a hold you have had on me from the very beginning. It made me feel like a fool at times, I thought the only way I could supress these feelings were by acting like an asshole towards you. I'm really sorry."
Your gaze softened, "I'm really sorry too, my behaviour towards you hasn't been any better either." You continued, "I thought we were destined to be enemies. I don't hate you, I never did. I just wanted you to see the person I am beyond the righteous supe everyone else sees."
Ben slowly took your hands in his, making you look into his eyes. "Now I see you more than I ever thought I would. Maybe.. maybe there's something more here."
You replied, "Maybe there is. What happens now?"
To which he said "We talk. Like normal people. No more running away or avoiding things and arguing for no reason. We figure out where we stand, one step at a time, together."
You smiled, nodding your head. "Agreed. No more hiding how we feel. Besides, I guess I like this way of solving our issues much more." Which made him chuckle and pull you into his arms, staring at you intently, pressing his lips to yours.
Back at the Flatiron building, Hughie sat at his table across from Frenchie, fidgeting with his cup. "I'm worried. What do you think? Will they make up or kill each other?"
Butcher entered the room, a smirk plastered over his face "I'm pretty sure they are fucking like rabbits back there." And boy, was he right.
The two of you went multiple rounds, thanks to your super stamina, christening every possible surface of the safe house. From the couch, to the bedroom and the floor, and the shower too. You had both awoken a hunger, only the other could satiate.
"Now that we're not at each other's throats for the wrong reasons, I think maybe, we'd make a good team after all."
Said Ben, holding you close, running smooth circles on along your arms, with the two of you lying on the bed, tired and basking in the afterglow. You smiled, turning to face him. "We'll have to see about that, you might just be right. For now, I can't believe I'm saying this but I need sleep, we both do. You've worn me out completely."
He chuckled, tightening his arms around you, placing a soft kiss to your forehead and lips, and the two of you drifted off to sleep, feeling content in each other's embrace.
It was a start of a connection and understanding that arose from the most unexpected places, even amidst the chaos of a world filled with superhumans and the fight for good. Fiery exchanges and whispered confessions bringing in an unexpected depth to your dynamic, proving that there can be a fragile, pure connection between two polar opposites. Serendipity, often painted as an unusual force, interweaves with fate, guiding people towards love where they're least expecting to find it.
Your story a testament to the unpredicted twists of the heart, proving that even the fiercest adversaries can find redemption in each other's arms.
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a/n: Finished watching Season 3 of 'The Boys' just a few days ago and let me just put this out here, Jensen as Soldier Boy is one of the best things to ever happen to this world. Oh! the things I'd let this man do to me-
Been planning this fic for a week now, I really hope y'all enjoyed reading as much as I did writing this.
I'd really appreciate if you'd comment any thoughts, improvements, suggestions or requests that you have! Thank you ^_^
Credits: Banner by @mykento
post divider by @saradika
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Text
remus x shy!reader (part 4)
author: sj
warnings: fluff; angst for remus lol; reader is in hufflepuff; uses she/her pronouns; not edited
done with finals!! now battling the want to only read fics and not write, let me know if you want a confession from rem!!
masterlist
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 5
---
it was the day of the date and remus had been up since 4 am. he couldn't stop thinking about your date. however bad he hoped it would go, he didn't want your first date experience to be horrible. he wanted you to be treated how you deserve and to have a lovely time while also never ever wanting to see the fool again. and that is why he had woken up at 4 in the morning and couldn't stop the fight in his mind.
it was 11:30am and he was laying on the couch in the common room, one foot on the ground tapping constantly. the boys had decided to stay in this morning because james was worried they'd run into you and that sirius would end up embarrassing you and ruin your date.
"moony, if you don't stop tapping your foot, i'm going to lose my mind." sirius grunted, head in his hands covering his ears from the tapping noise.
"she should be done with her date now, right? its been 2 hours. why isn't she back yet?" remus asked.
"relax you love sick dog. your precious wife will be returned soon." sirius replied dramatically, rolling his eyes at how abserd this whole situation was. "if you had only confessed your love for her when you had the chance, she wouldn't be snogging another fella while you fumed the whole time." he added. remus shot upright on the couch with a wide eyed expression and a look of dread covering his features.
"here she comes!" peter shouted, holding the marauder's map in his hands, walking into the common room where the other boys were. all of their heads turned towards the portrait hole where it swung open and you stepped through.
you were excited to tell the boys all about it, but you weren't quite expecting them to all be staring at you when you got back.
"well, hi." you said, cheeks flushing more than they already were, glancing towards the floor to not meet their eyes. you sat down on the couch next to remus like normal, not sensing the tension in his body, only feeling their eyes on you.
"WELL??? i need all the details. spill your guts flea!" sirius cried across from you.
"it was okay! it wasn't bad! but it also wasn't great. like it was pleasant but it wasn't anything to write home about. is that good? like are you supposed to know if you want to marry him already?" you rambled, entire face flushing and not meeting their eyes.
"aw, hoppers. i'm sorry it didn't go well." james consoled you.
"what do you mean?" you asked, confused why he sounded sad for you.
"well, it didn't sound like there was any chemistry, that's important if you're gonna date someone." james explained.
"flea, i know it's your first date ever, but even i thought you'd know that." sirius shrugged. at the mention of it being your first date, you tensed and shot a look a remus, hurt that he spilled a secret to the boys. remus met your gaze with a look of panic.
"that wasn't me! i swear it! i didn't tell them!" he yelled.
"oh he didn't tell us, but the way you were acting before was kind of obvious and the fact that remus would've known that you were dating someone before you were part of our group and you certainly haven't since we've been friends because of remus' behavior." sirius explained, you relaxed and reached to touch remus' leg.
"sorry for thinking that you told them when you didn't ." you apologized and remus nodded back.
"its fine bun, i'm not hurt." he said, covering your hand with his.
"so hoppers, did you snog him?" sirius asked crudely. your cheeks flushed bright red.
"that is none of your business sirius! and a lady never kisses and tells!" you exclaim, avoiding all their eyes. "i told him that it would be best if we were friends, and he agreed. i don't think dating is for me, i just got so anxious before! and the thought of having to go on another date, just makes me nauseous." you say, leaning onto remus' shoulder and resting your head.
"thats okay, bun. you don't have to date if you don't want to." remus patted your thigh, his heart soaring that he won't have to go through this again. he knew he'd have to tell you that he liked you soon, the thought of you with someone else almost killed him.
"thanks rem." you mumbled back, sinking deeper into his side.
sirius observes this going on, looking to james and mouthing, 'are they fucking idiots??'
james simply rolled his eyes in response.
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cozage · 1 year
Note
Hello!! I love your writing and would love to see a follow up of the captured by marines ask where they go and rescue the reader :)))
A/N: This is the last of the Captured by Marines/Rescued by Pirates short fics! Luffy’s and Law’s were posted earlier today, check them out :)
Characters: female reader x Ace
Cw:  angst, torture, reader in peril
Total word count: 3k
Part 1
Rescued by Pirates - Ace
It wasn’t long before he saw the Navy ships, and he smirked to himself. How easy it had been to get to them. He wondered if the Marines even knew who they had, if they knew what kind of death sentence that had placed upon themselves by taking Whitebeard’s crew. By taking you. 
He heard cannon balls splash around him and knew he had been spotted, but he wasn’t concerned. His Striker was too fast and too small to be caught by a stray firearm.
Watching the Navy scramble around like that on the ships made him laugh. Actually laugh out loud. So loud that he knew his crewmates could hear it. That you could hear it. 
The navymen on the ships took aim and fired to no avail. He wondered if they knew it was a lost cause. Not that it mattered. They should’ve known he would come after them. They really should’ve prepared better. 
He lept off his Striker and jumped up to the deck, smirking at all the wide-eyed marines. Everyone just stood there unmoving for a second, shocked by his sudden appearance. 
“Hey there fellas, you wouldn’t happen to know where my crew mates are, wouldya?”
His question nudged them into action, and they all began firing. The bullets went right through him, and he stood there, letting them empty their rounds of ammo. Once they were done, he shrugged and ran past them down the stairs. 
His division had taken a few ships like this hostage, and he was familiar with the layout. He didn’t worry himself with the Marines staring at him. They’d all be at the bottom of the ocean soon enough, but he couldn’t sink a ship with his crew on it. 
“Ace!!” He heard a small group of about five men cry out, finding them locked behind a cell of sea prism stone. He cursed the substance, but smiled at the men regardless.
“Hey guys, howya been?” He looked around, but you weren’t there, and his heart sank a little bit. This would be a lot easier if he knew you were here fighting with him. “Any idea where the key is?”
“The vice admiral!” One of them shouted.
“Be back soon!” He tipped his hat and ran back up the ship to find the keys. 
He found the Vice Admiral holding the keys out over the edge of the ship. The man looked very nervous, and Ace knew he was a coward without even speaking to him. 
“Give me the keys, and I’ll spare your life. How’s that?”
“No way,” the man’s voice trembled as he spoke. “I don’t make deals with pirates. 
Ace didn’t argue. He just held out his fingers to create crosshairs aimed at the man.
“Listen here,” Ace said, his voice deadly serious. “I don’t have time to play around. Either you give me those keys and I let you and your men go, or I send everyone on this ship to a watery grave. Your choice.”
It turned out that Ace had picked the right ship, because the vice admiral was nice enough to give him the keys for every jail cell on every ship. Ace ran back down the stairs with the keys in his hand, and the feeling of success on his shoulders. 
He unlocked the cell and his crewmates rushed to hug him, but he waved them off. “Tie up all the marines and hold them hostage. Once we have everyone, we’ll put them on one ship and let them go.”
The pirates look at him like hes crazy, but he shrugs. “I got the keys without a fight. That was the trade off. I’m a man of my word.”
The second ship was as easy to take as the first, but you weren’t on that ship either, and Ace was starting to feel nervous. Three ships with Marines this weak shouldn’t have crushed the third division of the Whitebeard Pirates so badly. 
The third ship was quickly taken over as well, and you were still nowhere to be found. His crew mates must have sensed his panic, because finally someone spoke up. 
“They took her separately since she had devil fruit powers,” a crew mate said. “They said she was too dangerous to keep on these ships. She’d be..” the man trailed off, scared to finish. 
“What? What’d they say?” Ace said, trying to rush him. 
“They said she’d be good bait.”
“Bait…” Ace could feel his skin catch fire at the words, and his crewmates backed away from him. He wanted to destroy the small fleet of ships they had just captured, and he struggled to keep his cool in the moment.
“Get on the other ship. Now. Sail back to Whitebeard.” He handed Whitebeard’s Vivre card to a man and stood as they all scrambled away. 
He weighed heavily what to do next, and forced himself to clear his head before he decided what to do. Once the Navy ship with Whitebeard’s pirates were out of sight, he stripped two of the Navy officers of their clothes and put one outfit on, saving the other for later. He burned their main sail, and made sure all of the men were tied up tight on one ship. He took the small transponder snail with him, and then as he left, he set the second, abandoned ship ablaze without looking back. 
He moved fast, following your vivre card again. He hadn’t even thought to look at it while he was freeing the others on the ship, but it wouldn’t have mattered. He couldn’t have left his family there, in the hands of the marines and sentenced to Impel Down. Unlike with you, he would’ve had no way to find them again, and they’d be gone forever. He knew he had made the right choice, but it still hurt to know you had been moving further away from him rather than getting closer. 
He sailed through the day and into the night before he saw lights of other ships. He quickly extinguished his own boat light and watched the ship closely. He wanted to go in as wild as the fire he created, but he was certain the members of this crew would be significantly stronger than the last ones he encountered, and he needed to get you out alive. 
As his Striker crept up to the side of the ship, he was surprised by the lack of watchmen. He was expecting infiltration to be harder than this. And then his Striker tapped the side of the boat. 
“Did you hear that?” Ace heard a voice from above, and he silently cursed himself. 
“Hear what?” An older voice huffed.
“I dunno. Sounded like something hit the boat, I think.”
“I think you’re hearing things, Cadet.”
“We should probably check it out.” The voice moved closer, and Ace readied himself for a battle.
“I told you kid,” the older voice spoke. “The Captain said that the Whitebeard Pirates wouldn’t come until a public execution was set. They’re going to take this time to rally their forces, and they’ll attack when it’s a public event. It’s much less impressive to kidnap some girl from a Marine boat, but to fight the entire Navy while the world is watching? That's the spectacle the pirates will want.”
“How do you know?” the kid asked.
“I was around when Roger was executed-” Ace flinched at the name. “-and it was the same thing. Pirates everywhere, waiting for someone else to make the move. But nobody ever did, and he was executed because of it. That won’t happen again though. They’ll take a stand. They’ll make a show of it.”
“You were there for Roger’s execution?” Fascination filled the young man’s voice, and Ace rolled his eyes. “What was it like?”
“Ha! Let’s go grab a drink and I’ll tell you all about it.” The older man’s voice was paired with footsteps leading away from the railing, and Ace tied his Striker to the ladder and climbed up it.
He peeked his eyes over the railing and only saw two other men on deck, other officers who were probably on watch. They were facing away from him, and he silently jumped over the railing and landed on the deck. 
He smoothed out his Marine uniform and straightened his cap, trying his best to blend in. 
This ship was similar to the last three he had taken over, and he had to resist running downstairs to find you. Instead, he walked around, trying to figure out where the keys were. He found a board with a schedule for watch duty on deck and watch duty for the prisoner. 
As he was staring at the board, another man came up to him. He looked to be about his age. 
“You wouldn’t want to take my shift watching the bitch, would you?”
Ace’s anger flared up, but he smothered it quickly to keep up the appearance. 
“I don’t know, man. When do you have to watch her?” He said, eyeing the man next to him. 
The man was about as tall as Ace, but extremely skinny. It looked like he was too tall for his own body, like he hadn’t filled out his own skin yet. He had bright orange hair and a crooked smile, and just looking at him made Ace want to punch him in the face. Though Ace wasn’t sure if that was because of the man’s comment about you or his appearance. 
The man chuckled. “In thirty minutes, and I'd love to go back to bed. Had a bit too much to drink, if you know what I mean,” the man chuckled, and Ace joined along halfheartedly until the man continued. “Last thing I want to deal with in the middle of the night is that chick.”
Ace raised his eyebrow. Of course you were giving them hell. “She that bad, huh? Have you seen her?”
“Just when she got on the ship. She was kicking and screaming until they put a gag in her and knocked her around a few times.”
Ace gritted his teeth. “Sounds feisty.”
The man snorted. “You can go find out for yourself just how feisty she is in about thirty minutes if you want.”
“You’ve intrigued me,” Ace said, pretending to be casual. “I’ll take it if you switch for my shift tomorrow.”
“Deal.” The man held out his hand, and Ace took it. “I’m Rogan.”
Ace nodded. “Nice to meet you. Chance.”
“Well, you’re really doing me a solid, Chance. I’ll see you in the morning.” And with that, the orange-haired marine walked off to bed. 
Thirty minutes. Ace had thirty minutes to keep a low profile and find the key to your cell, and then you would be free. He grabbed some coffee from the cafeteria to rejuvenate him, and got a small snack as well. He had been fighting and sailing for over a day, and the exhaustion was starting to catch up with him. 
He must’ve dozed off at some point, because a loud speaker jolted him awake to alert a shift change. He cursed himself, now he wouldn’t have time to find the keys to your cell. 
He walked down the stairs to the jail cell, and found another man waiting for him. 
“Here,” he said, shoving a rod at Ace. The man’s eyes flicked nervously back to the cell behind him. “If she acts up any more just stick her with that.”
The man started up the staircase and then turned back to Ace. “Just some advice: Don’t taunt her. She’s…” he paused, and his eyes shifted back to the cell where Ace guessed you were. “Just don’t acknowledge her. The other guy should be here soon, and I know we’re supposed to only guard in doubles, but I can’t take it anymore.”
The guy disappeared from sight, and Ace heard your voice chirp up from behind him. 
“If you think you can subdue me, you’re wrong.” He could hear the animalistic growl in your voice, and he shuddered to think about what you had been through while you were parted. 
“Oh,” Ace laughed, turning to face you. “I think I can handle you just fine.”
He could see your eyes shift when you caught sight of his freckled face, hatred instantly turning into relief. 
Your eyes flicked to the doorway to make sure nobody was there, and then you looked back at him and smiled. “That Marine outfit suits you,” you said, your voice returning to the sweet sound he was used to. “I get why Garp wanted you to live this life.”
Ace laughed loudly, and then clamped a hand over his mouth as you both looked towards the doorway. 
“I don’t have the key to get you out,” he said disappointingly. 
“The next guy who comes will,” you said. “He should be back in about 10 minutes I think.”
Ace raised an eyebrow at you, and you smiled wickedly in return. 
“They think I’m weak because I’m a girl,” you scoffed, and you saw his lips tug upwards at the corners. 
“It’s a dangerous thing to do, underestimate a pirate.” He winked at you, which made you erupt into a fit of giggles. 
“Quiet down now, spitfire,” Ace chided back to you, and you rolled your eyes. 
“I’m going to sleep,” you said, leaning your head back against the wall. “Wake me up when it’s time to move.” 
Ace turned away from you, watching the door. He waited for someone to come, and finally the door opened a bit. 
“She’s finally asleep, huh?” a hushed whisper came from the door. 
Ace nodded, glancing back at you slumped against the wall. 
The man smiled sinisterly, and Ace’s entire body tense watching  his expression. 
“Good,” the marine hissed. “Hand me that electro-rod. I need to teach her a lesson.” He grabbed the keyring around his belt loop and unhooked it as he walked towards your prison cell. 
So that’s what Ace had in his hands. An electrified rod. He had seen them used before, but he had never been hit by one. 
Ace frowned at the man. “I thought we weren’t supposed to-”
“Shut up, boy,” the man snapped. “She mocked my honor. I’ll be damned if I let a pirate laugh at me, and a female one at that.”
He unlocked the door, and held his hand out for the rod. “Give it here, and get over here if you want to see a show.”
“No,” Ace said, pressing the button to activate the rod. “I don’t think I will.”
The man looked at Ace with a baffled expression, and Ace jabbed at him with the rod quickly. It was such a swift and sudden movement, the man didn’t have time to react, and he fell backwards. 
Your eyes snap open and your throw your hand around the man, using the chain on your cuffs to act as a clothesline around the man’s neck.
Ace stands over the both of you with a dark look in his eye. “You made a mistake, and it’ll cost you now.”
He jammed the prod into the man again, and you covered his mouth to muffle his screams. 
“You underestimated her.” He prodded the man. “You underestimated me.” Another prod. “And you underestimated the Whitebeard Pirates.” This time, he smacked the man with the blunt rod, and you felt the marine go slack in your arms, unconscious. 
He grabbed the key ring and unlocked your shackles quickly, his eyes watching the door.
“Ace!” You cry out, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a hug. “You’re so scary!” He can hear the smile on your lips, your voice full of pride. 
You both wrap the Marine in the shackles and relock the door to the cell. Ace looked back at you, watching the man with hatred. 
“What did you do to him?”
You smiled slightly. “He’s just sensitive about some things, that’s all.”
Ace gave an impressed whistle, but didn’t ask anymore questions. “You ready to do this?”
You look at him and raise an eyebrow. “You think this is gonna be hard?”
“Not with you by my side.” He gave you a quick kiss on the lips. “The hard part is over.”
He was right. The few marines that you encountered were quick to take down. It made you nervous. You kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. But it never did. You all dropped onto his Striker without anyone being alerted of your absence. 
“The Marines I heard earlier said they weren’t expecting Whitebeard to make an appearance until an execution was set,” he explains, reading your thoughts. “Makes sense why this was so easy.”
“They only took me separately because I was a devil fruit user.”
“They had no idea who they captured,” he said, and he roared his Striker to life. “Stupid mistake on their part.”
You hum in agreement at that. “Still seemed too easy,” you said, frowning. 
His arms wrapped around you, and he kissed your cheek. “You’re so used to fighting powerful foes, you don’t know what to do when we catch a break.”
He started to take his Marine outfit off, but you stop him. “Keep it on,” you say with a wink. “It suits you.”
He smirks, looking down at himself and then at you. “I’ve got an extra one if you want it.”
You scrunch your face. “No thanks.”
“Fine, but I’m taking off the hat.” 
He took his Navy cap off and placed it on your head, and then he unbuttoned his shirt, but kept it on for you. For now.  Ace opened a side compartment of his Striker and found his hat, placing it back on his head, feeling a lot more comfortable. 
“Perfect!” You said, pulling him in again for another sweet, long kiss.
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babygirl-diaz · 2 months
Text
Tommy: Hey fellas. Ready to go home? Drunk Buck: Nooooooooo I wanna stay here and driiiiink. Gimme more shots!!! Drunk Eddie: I'll only go if you carry me in your big strong arms Bartender: Please take them. I can't deal with them anymore Tommy: I'm sure you've seen worse Bartender: Not THIS bad. These two say the weirdest shit. Been driving my customers away. Tommy: Like what? Bartender: I am pretty sure the blue-eyed one wants to knock up the brown-eyed one Tommy: Oh, that's just how they talk even when they're not drunk Bartender: And who are you? Tommy: I am the one who gets to knock both of them up
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peachesfather · 6 months
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Can you mizu with a healer fem reader thats in lonfon and very jealous of taigen?? I want it very fluffy but also smutty if ur ok with it :) please and thank uu
thanks for this request !!
Doing way too much
mizu x black fem! reader blue eye samurai
Tumblr media Tumblr media
warning:+18, smut, fluffy, fingering, bad grammar, suggestive language, and jealous mizu is a way to put it.
I was the best healer in my store in London, i get a lots of praise from how good i am at healing people's wounds, the pay was very good for me and my mother who were very poor.
I swept the floor with a broom while listening to some jams on the radio, i signed and humed to the music, i heard the door open and paid it no mind at all i just continued to clean. i was abrupt by someone in front of me with their eyes being blue as the ocean but had a no emotion face along with someone else with them but he staring at my potions.
"what do you need?" i looked at his tall figure and waited for a response but no reply so i put my hand on their shoulder to tell them to reply for their request.
He snatched my hand from their shoulder and squezzed it very hard, i hissed and told them to stop.
"I just need to be heal thats fucking it, and also need resources for my travel" she let go of me and i basically rolled my eyes at her behavior. "You couldve just said that and not squeezed my fingers." i said while still being angry at this customer. (bby got issues wrong bitch tho)
"okay, sit in this chair please sir" he gave the other man who came along with him a sword and came my way to sit down in the chair. The guy who was holding the sword was looking me up and down while bitting his lips. i ignored him and shown eye contact towards the blue eyed man in front of me.
"Where does it hurt?" He pointed to where their gut is so meaning to where the injury is there. I closed my eyes to see if the energy of the wound could be healed, water has appeared on the gut to clean throughout and he hiss in the healing process, i patch him up. "you're finally done, that would be $50" he put the money in my hand and stared at me for few seconds and then snatched the sword from the other guy, "i be outside Taigen, grabbed the other resources for our travel" she put her glasses back on her face and left my store, the other grabbed the stuff he was told to buy.
"is that all?' he just stared at my face and told him again "IS THAT ALL SIR YOU STARING UP THE STORM" his eyes widned and laughed at my outburst. “You’re so cute what’s your name?” He said while staring behind the counter at my ass.
“Okay, I give you my name, it’s y/n.” I blushed and facepalm at how cringe of how I falling for this bullshit, I noticed a couple glances from the window outside the store, it was the guy who I healed he looked angry and pissed must be because of this fella right here, I think he’s talking himself or flirting idk what bro is still here for.
“The cost is $100, do you have it?” He paused and stopped talking about whatever mess he was going on about, he smiled and started to look in his pockets for his money or changes.
Me, being the nicest person that I’m going to be and letting this nigga off with his resources to getting out of my store, I told him he doesn’t need to pay for it under one condition is telling him and his friend to come over to my place for a meal.
He quickly agreed and said “yes, now we can get to know each other in a better way” he rubbing his fingers together while licking his lips I was disgusted but happy at the same time because he was leaving my store, I gave the guy outside a wink. He scoffed and looked away instantly. (I need her so badly don’t play to get pookie)
When the clock hits 5 pm, I was already done cooking curry chicken and rice for my guests, I clean the table and put the table cloth on to be proper.
I heard a knock on my door I was guessing it was them, taigen was smiling like he had done a whole crime while being very sketchy, he was nicely dressed with his hair down. However, for the mysterious man he was still in his old clothes doesn’t make him unattractive but he could’ve done something to spark his appearance. His eyes on the other has drew more attention.
He catches my glances and looked away in annoyance. I signed and ask his name because i wanted to get know him better. He looked me in the eye and said “my name is Mizu”
That’s a cute name awee” I said that brought me and him in awkward silence until taigen grabbed my chin to rizz me up or whatever saying “ma, you look good tonight in them jeans and showing your figure very nicely.
I kinda blushed at him complimenting my body, his way of words were blinding from getting to know mizu. Taigen gave mizu no emotion face that became a snickering expression towards him to letting know that he trying to get to have me. Mizu smirked and smiled at him for being too foolish.
We was eating the curry chicken and rice at the table, taigen was tearing my food up and said It is good and wanted seconds. I gotten up just to give him more.
Mizu was looking me up and down from knee from how my jeans looked on me, she squeezed her thighs and looked at taigen who was staring back at her already.
“Aye, stop looking at her she is going to be mine, bitches like her cannot resist me.” Taigen said while crossing his hands by giggling at how easy you are. However, Mizu was disgusted of how he talking about you , even though she barely knows anything about me to care.
I came back to table so happy about someone being grateful about my cooking. Taigen grabbed the plate from me and said thank you. Mizu was staring into my soul, I was confused but I sat down and looked at taigen finishing his second plate of curry chicken.
“Y/n, yo if I was your man bro I wouldn’t never disrespect how bad of cook you is” he said while staring at mizu then laughed at how fucked mizu looked.
“You wanna be my man? Well, you must want to take good care of me” I said while lovey dovey staring at him
“I take care of that ass of yours real good” he said while chewing. Mizu started to shake the table and ask to go where to bathroom. I told him that it is upstairs I got up and walked himself to the bathroom.
She stops mid way, it made me confused until she grabbed me and push closed the door in the bathroom.
“What the heck mizu” I was pushed against the wall and was held by my hands from mizu who showing no emotion to the situation of having me like this.
“You want to stay quiet or what, I know you want me all this time you fucking brat” she stare at my face who was resisting her touch.
“I need you so badly please..” you said while bringing your hands to her hands to guide her to you hips, she grabbed a chunk of your ass and lean in to kiss your lips that had lipstick onto them.
“You don’t know how much I have done to get to fuck you like this” she said holding onto me while locking eyes with me I stare back with her with a nervously smile.
She slip her hand in my jeans while standing up with spreading me out with her fingers, I grasp and moans “. fuckkk..mm mizu your fingers” I was literally dripping mess under her. Me and her touched heads while she fingered me at a quick pace while she laughing at me.
I screamed in my hand while she thrust her fingers in out of me out one last time. I wrap my hands around her neck to give her lips a peck, she snickered and kiss me back. We sat in comfortable silence till leaving the bathroom together.
Okay, this was very bad you guys can diss this onee !!
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miintsprigz · 5 months
Note
Hiii again!! I wanted to ask for Sniper, Engie, and Scout reacting to the reader doing something nice for them after they had a tough day. Thank you!!
Anon, I had been wanting the opportunity to do something like this, so bless you, and I hope that you enjoy this! I sorta zoomed through Sniper’s, I hope it’s still good aaaa
Characters: Scout, Engineer, Sniper (TF2)
Warnings: none that I can think of—I made myself very soft while working on this
GN!Reader doing something nice for the Mercs after a tough day
Scout:
You’d noticed for some time that work really seemed to be running Jeremy down more than usual. He came back to base moody, unusually quiet. It was so unlike him.
Thinking back to just a few months ago…what a difference. You remembered how enthusiastically he’d come running in, holding something behind his back…quickly revealed to be a bouquet of bright red roses just for you.
“I didn’t know what your favorite was, so I thought I’d just got wit da classic!”
You had asked a question after that though, one you were especially glad you’d asked now.
“What’s your favorite flower, babe?”
“Me? …huh. Never really thought about that.”
You watched the wheels turn a bit, and a nostalgic kind of look came over him. Jeremy was quite the sentimental guy, if you hung out with him long enough.
“I think one time I got Ma these big yellow ones…lilies? They were real pretty. Smelled nice too. Probably those.”
So one day, a while before you knew he’d be getting back, you went on the hunt. Yellow lilies were tricky to find, but eventually, you secured a whole bunch and had them nicely wrapped up for your favorite fella.
You enjoyed their fragrance as you waited for Jeremy to get back…they truly were beautiful. You could see why he liked them.
Finally, the door swung open, and you quickly hid the bouquet behind your back, just as he had.
He looked exhausted…of course, his face lit up as soon as he saw you. “Ah, finally home. How ya doin’, doll? Sight for sore eyes, as always.”
“I’m good. I got a little surprise for you.”
His brows arched, curious, and you could see that infectious smile that seemed so rare these days beginning to appear again. “Oh yeah?”
“Well okay, might not be too surprising, but…” You sheepishly grinned as you held out his gift. “…I found some.”
Scout’s mouth dropped open just a bit before he couldn’t help but burst out laughing, delighted. “Aw, baby…they’re beautiful!”
You motioned for him to take them, and he did, admiring them with a softness to his gaze. Only seconds later, as he looked up at you, that trademark, somewhat mischievous grin came to his face.
You chuckled. Your boy was back. “Whatcha thinkin’ there?”
“C’mere, you~” He pulled you in and kissed you before you could even prepare.
His free hand lightly brushed through your hair as he pulled back, seeming to be at a genuine loss for words. “You are so sweet, ya know that? I love you.”
Giggling, you pecked his lips once more. “I love you too.”
___
Engineer:
Poor Dell had really been pushed to his limit lately. It felt like you hardly saw him anymore. He was always working on something. The demand kept on coming.
Lately, you had to get up early to get any decent quality time with him before he went to work. When he got home, he always just wanted to go right to sleep, and you certainly couldn’t blame him.
He felt bad, and told you as much, but you knew it wasn’t his fault. “Get your rest, honey. I know you’re tired.”
Even in the morning, he was always up before you were, and had breakfast ready to go. You talked as you ate.
So, after Engie had come back in especially rough shape the night before, with his first day off in months the following day, you decided to surprise him.
You were not, by any means, an early riser. But you had a feeling that Dell wouldn’t sleep in long, even on his day off. You’d even gone to sleep a bit early the night before.
Ever the keen-eyed one, Engie had questioned that. “Goin’ out already, lil’ nightingale?”
“Yeah, I’m sleepy. Besides, we got all day tomorrow, right?”
“Yessiree.”
You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you got everything together. It was a whole lot of work, mixing up batter, making sure everything was cooked just right, and of course making the presentation easy on the eyes. But it would all be worth it.
Finally, you were all set. You scurried to his room, knocking to see if he was up.
“Almost ready, darlin’! I’m a little late, sorry ‘bout that…”
“Don’t worry about it, Engie, take your time…” Last thing your cowboy needed was to be rushed around on his day off.
Opening the door, he beamed at you. “Well, look at you! All bright-eyed and bushy-tailed already, huh? I got a feelin’ we’re gonna have a grand day, you ‘n’ me.”
“Oh, just you wait…I’ve got something for ya, baby. C’mon…”
“Whoa, okay—I had a feelin’ you were up to somethin’ last night, ya lil’ schemer…”
You just laughed, excitedly pulling Dell along by the hand.
“Okay, right in here.”
The still sleepy eyes that were normally hidden behind his goggles blinked quick in genuine astonishment as he took it in.
“Well…good word, that’s like the cover of a magazine there, darlin’! You do this all by yer lonesome?”
“Mhm! I got up early in the hopes that I’d beat you to it—can’t have you working hard on your day off! Just hope it tastes good…”
“It will, baby, I’m sure of it…” He trailed off a bit, and as you glanced over, you couldn’t get a grasp on what exactly was going through his head. Seemed happy at least. Maybe you were used to seeing only half of his face. But then he rubbed at his eyes just a bit…
“Oh, baby…you okay?”
“Yeah…just fine, darlin’, sorry, circuits are still a lil’ fried…” He sniffled, and without much thought you wrapped your arm around him, stroking his shoulder.
“Been real tough goin’ lately, real tough…wasn’t feelin’ like myself no more. And ya did all this just for me…for us…”
He leaned his head to the side so it rested softly against yours, taking a deep breath. “Thank you, (Y/N). You are a wonder. I adore you, you know that?”
You chuckled, pulling him close. “Thank you, Dell. I adore you too.”
You felt him jolt a little, but he made sure to kiss you quick before he moved at all. “Please tell me you’re havin’ some a’ this—”
“Yeah! Wanted to make breakfast for you, but eat it with you too.”
“Well, we better not let it get cold now, after ya worked so hard! C’mon, baby…”
You laughed as you were now the one being pulled along, with Engie still praising your hard work and delicious cooking every step of the way.
_____
Sniper:
Lately, Mick hadn’t been telling you what was going on at work…which was weird. Normally, he really liked his job, and told you all about it. Lately though, he’d answered “how was work?” with the vaguest responses.
Sniper wasn’t the type of guy to word vomit about what was bothering him, but that cued you in pretty well.
You wanted to do something to help him, something to lift his spirits again. It took some time, but eventually, you hatched a plan.
One day, instead of waiting back at his camper, you made your way over to where the mercs normally exited the fort.
You waved to the rest as they ran past, more than a few asking what you were doing here. They could figure it was something to do with your boyfriend.
Mick was the last to leave…which was a bit weird. Must have really been working hard.
“Hey, Snipes!” Immediately, his head turned at the sound of your voice, taking a surprised step backwards before he quickly ran and skidded to a stop in front of you.
“(Y/N)? …whatcha doin’ all the way out here, darlin’? Everything alright?”
He looked…confused, but delighted.
“Yeah! I had an idea the other day…and I wanted to meet up with you a little bit earlier so I had more time for it. Let’s go back to the camper so you can change, then I’ll show ya what I mean.”
His eyes narrowed, trying not to smile at this. “Hm…alright. Keep ya secrets for now…”
It was only a moment before his fingers intertwined with yours as you started the short walk back. He tended to be a bit flighty when it came to physical contact, but you understood that.
Once Sniper was done getting ready, you grabbed the basket you’d kept hidden away. “All set?”
“Yep…ya want me blindfolded for this or somethin’?”
“Nah, I don’t want you to trip. Just follow me.”
You followed the path you’d drawn out the other day, although you’d come out here before you’d left the camper to lay out the blanket and get everything all comfortable.
Just as you’d planned, you got to the spot just in time to see the sun go down, and the stars had just started to appear.
A spot near a river, where the only sounds were from the wind and water, with the occasional birdsong and cricket chirp.
You’d had some help on this—Pyro, of all people, providing you with the necessary equipment and tinder for a little campfire. They’d been surprisingly helpful, even though you couldn’t understand them at all.
“I thought it might be nice to enjoy the nice weather and some dinner…oh, and uh, s’mores, if you want. I brought stuff for that.”
The normally more reserved and serious Sniper stood there for a moment, looking everything over. Slowly, this very peaceful smile came to his face.
You were used to him being quiet, but you just had to know what he made of all this.
“I know it’s sorta cheesy, but I hope—whoa!!”
Mick suddenly pulled you in close, holding you tight. You quickly returned the gesture, feeling the side of his face sort of brush against the top of your head.
“…I don’t got much words for this. Besides thank you. Ya have any idea how much I wanted to do somethin like this with ya, roo?”
You laughed a bit, closing your eyes. “Well, I wouldn’t have exactly guessed this, but…I had a feeling you’d been having a tough couple days.”
“You were right.” It took a good while before he pulled back, and even then, his hand still clasped yours. “I was.”
The firelight illuminated his eyes, and although the mellow tone of voice stayed the same, you could see it in his face just how moved he was.
“But that doesn’t even matter to me now. Cuz right now…it’s just you, me, and the stars, baby…c’mon.”
Going slightly rosy—you hoped he couldn’t see in the shadows that the dim light casted—you followed him, and the two of you sat down to enjoy your s’mores and each other’s company.
By the end of the night, both of you laid back on the blanket, full, warm, and happy, curled up together as you watched the stars glimmer above.
You felt a slight tap against your shoulder. “Mm? What’s up, Mick?”
He glanced to the side, once again gaining that shyness that tended to creep up on him. “…ya know how much I love ya?”
You couldn’t help but chuckle, moving over a bit to kiss him briefly, eyes fluttering closed.
You pulled back, teasing, “Does that answer your question?”
He looked back at you, starry-eyed and red-faced, starting to laugh along with you.
“Hehe, yeah…yeah it does.”
“But seriously, I love you too—”
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agaypanic · 1 year
Note
Hi!! I absolutely LOVE your James Maguire series! We really don’t have enough James love on the internet. Is it ok if I request a James Maguire x reader oneshot set just after the camping trip episode? Where they still go to the caravan and all the teens have to put the beds together and squeeze in one room and no one wants to sleep next to James so reader ends up there and they wake up cuddling? The others probably make fun of them so bad lmao (Maybe like a little extra from the fella series??) 🥺thank you so much if you do, I had this idea and I just couldn’t stop thinking about it. If you don’t write it I understand thank you anyway xxxx
Squished (James Maguire X Quinn!Reader)
Masterlist
Request Something!
Summary: A stolen tent means less room. But the Derry Girls make do.
A/N: I’m gonna be posting this as a stand alone (so not on the fella masterlist), but I’m gonna write it using the stuff from the fella part 5. So this can be read by itself or as like a lil extra thing from the fella
***
It was a long while before the Derry Girls arrived in Portnoo. After hours of being squished in two cars, harboring what was most likely a fugitive, and getting Grandpa Joe’s friend’s second-best tent stolen, seeing the caravan felt like seeing Mother Mary herself. The only thing that stopped Y/n from rolling out of the car the second she spotted it was her baby sister, who had sat in her lap the entire journey.
“Oh, thank fuck.” Michelle almost yelled as everyone poured out of the cars. Erin gave her a remark about her crude language, in front of her family no less, but was ignored. “I’m allowed to be upset, Erin. I just lost the love of my life and was stuck in a car with you and your kookie aunt for God knows how long.”
“You didn’t even know him, Michelle. He was a criminal.”
Y/n handed her sister Anna off to James so she could get out of the car and stretch her stiff limbs. She tried to ignore the sight of James holding Anna because he seemed nervous to hold her but was still trying to entertain her while he waited for Y/n. It was just too cute.
“Okay, I can take her.” Y/n sighed, reaching out for her sister. James looked at her a little funny.
“Are you sure? You held her the entire trip up here; you don’t want a little break?” She supposed he was right, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t like how he acted with her interest in mind.
“I mean if you don’t mind-”
“Of course not.” James smiled at her, and she would’ve been giddy if Erin and Michelle weren’t there. Anna babbled against James’ shoulder, grasping at his jacket. The two teens smiled at her, talking to each other while Erin eyed them, not that they noticed.
“No wonder Emmett thought she was their wain,” Erin muttered to herself as she grabbed her suitcase out of the car’s boot. She didn’t know whether to be disgusted or happy for her sister and the fact that she fancied their English friend.
***
“Jesus, it’s cramped in here.” Michelle groaned as she squeezed past the girls to throw her bag somewhere in the caravan the Quinn family had rented. They only rented one; they didn’t expect Erin and Y/n’s friends to accompany them on their annual holiday. Grandpa Joe, Gerry, and James were going to sleep in the tent that Joe’s friend had lent them, but those plans had gone south. But Joe insisted that they should still sleep outside.
“We’re men, aren’t we?” He had said. “We don’t need no damn tent.”
But one look at James, and the girls knew that wouldn’t work out well. He was already nervous around Joe and Gerry, mainly Joe, especially because he was the one who allowed Emmett to steal their tent. But living outdoors with them for who knows how long? No thanks.
The adults had gone to a close-by shop that sold camping gear to get another tent for them to sleep in. Grandpa Joe almost had a heart attack when the girls suggested that James sleep in the caravan with them, but then Mary calmed him down by saying that the girls would be fine because James was gay.
James was getting sick of correcting this assumption. But he didn’t want to sleep in a tent with the adults, so he let it slide.
“Okay, how are we doing this?” Y/n asked, looking at the somewhat cramped space. The girls’ things were either thrown somewhere in the caravan or clutched closely to try to create more room. Everyone looked around. “I know there’s a bed at the end.”
“I call it!” Michelle yelled, pushing past everyone to sit on the bed before anyone else could claim it. She looked smug, probably thinking that she wouldn’t have to share with anyone else.
“Fine.” Y/n sighed, moving Anna to her other hip. She was charged with looking after her while the adults were gone. James was going to offer to carry her, but then decided to take their luggage. “But you have to room with someone else in that bed.”
“What the fuck, Y/n?!” Michelle snarled.
“Look around you, Michelle.” James defended. “There’s six of us in here.” Michelle rolled her eyes at her cousin. Huffing in annoyance, she looked at everyone in the caravan.
“Fine. Clare, you’re with me, yeah?”
“Two down, four to go,” Y/n muttered, looking around. “There’s the two seats in the front, and then the sofa could probably fit two.”
“I’ll take the sofa.” James volunteered, moving to set his bag on it, but still holding Y/n’s for when she decided where to sleep. Erin smirked.
“Orla and I call the seats!” Y/n would’ve glared at Erin if she wasn’t in a room with James and Michelle. She had a sneaking suspicion of what Erin was planning. 
“Is that okay with you, Y/n?” James asked. He was still holding her bag, in case she had reservations about sharing a sleeping space with him and wanted to switch with someone else. 
“Yeah.” Y/n nodded, watching James smile as he dropped her bag next to his. “Fine with me, James.”
“Aye, James, it must be exciting to finally have a girl in your bed.”
“Shut up, Michelle!”
***
It was late at night when the girls finally decided to go to bed. They had spent most of their time talking about this and that or playing games. Everyone bid each other good night and went to their sleeping areas.
“So, how should we do this?” James asked Y/n quietly. Their gazes kept going between the sofa and each other, trying to figure out what to do. “I can sleep on the floor if you’d like. I’m fine with it.”
“No, James. Don’t be silly.” Y/n bit her lip, trying to figure out how to fit the two of them in this tiny space. “We could lay on our sides.”
It became awkward very fast. The two faced each other, noses almost bumping. They were stiff, trying not to disturb the other. Y/n tried to fix this by turning around so they wouldn’t face each other. She must’ve forgotten how small the sofa was because James reached an arm out to stop her from falling to the floor.
“Careful,” James said, arm wrapped around her waist to pull her further from the edge. Y/n couldn’t ignore the butterflies in her stomach, somewhat surprised that James had the strength to pull her. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She replied meekly, grateful it was dark so James wouldn’t see the blush on her cheeks even though he was so close to her.
“Want me to let go?” His grip loosened slightly, but she caught his hand before it could leave her.
“No!” Y/n cringed at how loud she was. “I mean, uh, if you don’t mind.” James’ arm settled around her.
“Of course not.” He adjusted himself slightly before letting out a deep sigh. “Good night, Y/n.”
“Good night, James.”
***
“Why is he all over her like that?” Michelle grimaced, joining the crowd of her friends. They all stood before the small sofa, looking down at a sleeping Y/n and James. In his sleep, James had wrapped both arms around Y/n and kept her close to his chest. She didn’t seem to mind, holding her hands on his to prevent him from moving. “Fucking disgusting.”
“Quiet, Michelle,” Clare whispered as Y/n stirred. When she stopped her movements, the group let out a breath of relief they didn’t realize they were holding. “You know what we should do?” Seeming to read her mind, Erin slipped her shoes on.
“I’ll go get Mammy’s camera.”
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scekrex · 2 months
Note
I know you've been expecting this, so here ya go 😘
Punk!reader getting into Heaven and him just sort of bumping into Lute. Her being skeptical and annoyed at first but she quickly noticed his style and whole vibe/aesthetic and becoming interested. They talk and get to know each other, simply becoming fast friends which surprises many people since Lute isn't someone to trust another person this quickly.
Lute deciding that reader is an absolutely rad person and seeing similarities to Adam in him, she decides to make them meet. Her letting her bestie meet someone new who she thinks is awesome? Rare af and so Adam is intrigued. They meet up and even tho Adam was like "Eh, do I have to?" at first, he swiftly changed his mind after talking to reader for a bit and they hit it off. From that moment on it's just Lute being their wingwoman, trying to get them together. I trust your absolutely amazing, creative mind of yours that I adore with creating ways of her trying to set them up on a date. Maybe even failing once or twice before successing? 🤔
Muah, love you, you badass mfer ❤️
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^ Lute showing off reader to Adam, that's canon, I was the Reese's Sticks on the shelf.
I love punk!reader - this simply has a light undertone of punk though bc it's still x reader :3 I love you too, babes xoxo <3
Never wanted to dance with nobody, but you
pairing: Adam x male!reader
warnings: language
note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers
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Lute was kind of in a hurry, she had been talking with one of the other exorcists for a little too long and now she was about to be late to the meeting with Adam and Sera so when someone ran into her, knocked her off her feet and then offered her a hand to help her back up, she slapped said hand away angrily before she took a look at whoever had just dared to run into her. “Don’t you have eyes? Watch where you’re going,” she grumbled pissy as she got back up on her feet. You were quick to apologize, the lieutenant didn’t seem to care for such empty words though, she simply brushed the dirt off her clothes and pushed past you, her shoulder colliding hard with yours as if she tried to prove the point of being stronger than you - that you didn’t doubt.
That much about making a good first impression in heaven, huh?
-
It was a couple days later when you saw the lieutenant again, this time she seemed more relaxed so you decided to step up to her and properly apologize, she deserved an honest apology after you had knocked her off her feet after all. “Hey,” you greeted the woman as you stopped on her left side and offered the angel a soft and warm smile, she simply side eyed you before tilting her chin up, demonstrating that her rank was above yours and she didn’t have to speak to you if she didn’t want to, yet she responded, “The unstable mess that ran me over three days ago, didn’t think you’d have the guts to speak to me again.” She sounded honestly surprised that you came up to have a chat with her, you ran a hand through your hair, your body language was soaked with confidence though and that - Lute had to admit - was impressive. You reminded her of Adam, if only a little, yet your vibe clearly said punk and that she liked very much as a punk girl herself. She decided to let you shoot your shot, if your vibe didn’t match your personality, she could always cut you off later. “Yeah, that’s me,” you said with a smile that looked a little too prideful in her eyes, being a unstable mess wasn’t something to be proud of, yet you took the insult as a compliment and that she found charismatic. “Wanted to apologize to my fella punk stan, I didn’t mean to knock ya off ya feet like that,” you explained yourself and watched as Lute turned towards you, her posture straight, her chin still tilted upwards but her hands reached up to remove her mask and with that she revealed a wicked smile and sort of kind eyes, “Well, you made it clear that you’re not taking shit, not even from me and that is impressive.” She extended her arm, her hand was balled into a fist as she introduced herself, “Lute.” You looked down at her fist before you copied her wicked grin and gave her a quick fistbump, “Y/N.”
It turned out that Lute and you had a lot in common, besides liking the same music that was. You not only shared some favorite songs and bands, you also had similar hobbies and the lieutenant even invited you to stop by the exorcist’s training at some point - to watch and maybe even join them for that one session. The white haired woman and you had clicked almost instantly once she had dropped her guard and you had learned that she was great company - fuck, she seemed to like you so much that she even wanted to introduce you to her best friend and that was no other than the first man God had created. And while you had managed to avoid a meet-up until now, Lute had other plans. So when you opened your apartment door for her, because she had randomly texted you she’d come over and that she’d bring dinner, you were surprised to not only see her on the other side of the door, but also Adam whom she had brought along. “Uhhh, hey,” you gave them both an awkward yet welcoming smile and stepped aside to let them in, “I did not expect you to bring company.” Lute simply shrugged as she stepped inside, was quick to follow her, “He wouldn’t let go of the fact that I haven’t introduced him to you yet and I thought you wouldn’t mind.” Oh you didn’t mind it at all, you would’ve liked a quick heads up though, then you could’ve cleaned up your apartment a little. The first man was quick to leave you behind and explore your home, “Pretty fucking hardcore.” That made you smirk proudly, Lute had told you a lot about Adam, she had also mentioned how skeptical he could be when it came to meeting new people, yet he seemed way more chill than Lute gave him credit for - or maybe it was just your vibe and the way your apartment was decorated. “Holy fucking shitballs, you like Mindless Self Indulgence?” the first man asked, visibly excited and Lute smirked as she took her mask off and tossed it onto the couch, “I told you he’s the coolest guy heaven has seen so far,” Lute commented with a cocky smirk before she quickly added, “Right after you, Sir.”
Adam came up next to you, a CD in his hand as he wrapped an arm around your waist, “Babes, tell me you have some fucking thing that can still play these old as shit bitches.” And of course you had - why would you own CDs if you hadn’t? So you wordlessly grabbed the CD Adam was holding and walked over to your stereo system, put the CD in and turned up the volume. “Good fucking shit,” the yellow LED smirk of his mask seemed quite joyful and made you relax a lot. You had expected the first man to be more judgemental, maybe even distant, but Adam was nothing like you had thought, he was the loud, all-in-your-face type of guy but you liked that, a lot actually. Lute had also mentioned that Adam would probably take a long fucking time to take his mask off around you - he never left the house without it, never. Lute herself had seen him without it before, but only two, maybe three times. And the both of them had been friends ever since Lute had arrived in heaven - which was very, very fucking long ago. So when Adam copied Lute’s earlier move and took off his mask to toss it onto the couch, you weren’t the only one who was surprised. “Are you shitting me?” you mouthed in the brunette’s direction as your eyes were basically glued to his face - this was the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. The white haired woman noticed the look in your eyes instantly and grinned, she knew that look way too well. “Huh?” the first man asked as he turned around to look at you with a raised eyebrow, he wasn’t quite understanding what you were talking about and it showed. “You’re fucking beautiful man, drop dead gorgeous even and you hide all of that underneath a fucking mask every damn day?” The confused look on Adam’S face turned into confidence with a good amount of pride mixed into it as he nodded, “This pureness is fucking reserved for specific eyes only.” And while it seemed to be self obsessed to say, you noticed the flirty undertone in his voice, it had been louder than the music blasting from your speakers. And something inside of your chest warmed up at his words, he thought of you as ‘worthy’ enough to see his face, to take a look of what’s underneath that steel mask.
During the evening Adam wrapped his arm around your waist more often than he kept it to himself,and you truly didn’t mind that at all - he was simply a touchy guy, that was it, right? But Lute knew better, Lute knew that Adam wasn’t touchy with every stranger he meets, and taking his mask off around you during your first meeting? Fuck, the first man was down bad and his lieutenant knew from the first second.
-
The three of you kept meeting after Adam had been introduced to you and while the brunette continued to send you signals, it was always the three of you, never just Adam and you. The white haired woman noticed the tension between you and the first man, she saw the signals he was sending you clearer than everything else - and you saw them too, you weren’t blind and Adam wasn’t subtle, but you were afraid to act on them, so you simply sent signals back. And given the fact that Adam wasn’t acting on those either, you assumed that was a simple personality trait of his, something you’d had to deal with from now on.
“Guys,” Lute interrupted the both of you, you and Adam had stared at each other for a good while now, you could say you had been eye fucking each other. “Did you even listen to what I was saying?” You were quick to shake your head, there was no reason to even pretend you had, neither you nor the brunette had a single clue what the white haired woman had just said. She sighed in annoyance as she rolled her eyes at the two of you, then repeated, “I was fucking saying, I have tickets for a band you two will enjoy, I won’t be able to come with you though because Sera wants me to work late and tickets are already sold out.” You looked at Adam, then back at Lute, “The fuck you mean, Sera wants you to work late?” You frowned at the lieutenant, she was so obviously lying, yet the tickets were indeed sold out and therefore her chance of joining you was gone. But she herself truly didn’t mind, not if that meant that the two of you were going to a concert together - she knew how Adam was whenever he went to see one of his favorite bands live and she hoped that maybe the two of you would have one or two drinks and that maybe you’d crash at Adam’s place.
Well, Lute was pretty fucking disappointed in the both of you when she found out that her plan didn’t work out properly. After the concert you had hung out at Adam’s place for a couple more hours and while the first man had offered you to stay the night, you had declined and left at some point during the night - Lute wanted to grab you by your shoulders and shake you because why in God’s mighty name would you do something so stupid when Adam had offered you his bed? She couldn't understand but she did curse you for your poor decision. Seems like she had to try harder than that though.
-
You heard the lock clicking and your brain needed a moment to process what just happened. “Call me when you two have sorted your feelings out and I’ll unlock the door,” then you heard the door to Adam’s house falling shut. Well, fuck. “The fuck does she mean by that?” Adam asked and ran his sweaty palm through his messy hair, he was nervous, his body language told you openly that he’d rather be anywhere else right now. He seemed afraid of the confrontation, had expected you to take the first step by yourself. Lute however had prevented you from doing so - not that you would’ve taken that step any time soon, so really Adam’s lieutenant was doing both of you a favor, yet you hated her for her little stunt. “Don’t do that, “ you sighed in frustration and your back hit the locked door as you leaned back. You slid down until your ass met the floor, your legs were pulled flush against your chest by your arms that you had wrapped around them. “We’ll both spit it out, then we can call that hoe to let us out.” Adam raised a skeptical eyebrow at your words, was that a trap? He wasn’t sure but he knew there was only one way to find out, “You’re fucking hot.” You looked up at him, a small smile had curled itself around your lips as you tilted your head a little, “You’re one to talk.” His eyes kept looking into yours and neither of you wanted to interrupt the moment you were having, so you sat there and did nothing but to look in his eyes and listen to the story they told you. There were feelings visible in them that you were sure Adam would never voice out loud, feelings and emotions that he had bottled up and not shared with a single soul until now, those feelings exposed a side of Adam that he had tried so fucking hard to get rid of - a soft side. His soft side. “I don’t like tiptoeing around you anymore. I like you, you like me. Are we gonna kiss now, or should I call Lute so we can murder her?”
The brunette’s eyes widened from your honesty and he just blinked at you, every single thing that he had wanted to tell you had left his mind, the only thought that had stayed was the thought of kissing you - well, it was more of a wish than a thought but it fogged his mind up nonetheless. With heavy steps he closed the gap between you and him, he offered you a hand to pull you up and when you accepted he quickly pulled you flush against his chest right before he grabbed your chin, tilted your head upwards and placed a greedy kiss onto your lips. Oh and how you loved the taste of his lips on yours - you were sure you’d never ever get tired of this taste or of the feeling the taste brought with it. You pushed yourself on your tiptoes to make yourself a little taller, to push into the kiss properly and Adam hummed in appreciation as you did so. He wanted to hold you like that for the rest of eternity, until the stars would collide and this universe would find its end. Until then he’d treasure you.
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Text
Patch
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Modern!Aemond Targaryen x reader
Summary: Aemond and you come across a one-eyed puppy at the farmer's market. // Words: 1k// A/N: Besties, this is just pure self-indulgent, tooth-rotting fluff. Listen, I know I have many wips, but it's been raining like crazy and I've had this soft scenario in my head for days. Hope this isn't too OC lol.
The light drizzle falling outside your window was the perfect excuse for you and Aemond to stay the whole Sunday in bed. Your partner was just too warm and comfy, with his long limbs tangled around you under the covers.   
Plus, he’d never been one to turn down an offer to stay in bed – being the major home-body that he is – which is why it’s beyond you, why he gets up from the bed and shakes you insistently, urging you to get dressed so you could carry on with your regular weekend plans of going down to the farmer’s market for breakfast.
He throws your coat on the bed while you sit there rubbing the sleepiness from your eyes, before reluctantly doing as he wishes.  
Although you couldn’t really complain, when the rain also gives you the chance stay close to him under the black umbrella that he holds in one hand, while his other is tightly linked with yours, walking through the endless booths and tents of the market.
He’d gotten you parfaits with fruit before indulging in a couple of croissants that were all the right kinds of buttery and fluffy, with hot drinks to warm up from the cold weather. 
Whatever resistance you’d had completely washed away, much like the dirt on the cobblestone paths thanks to the rain that was now beginning to subside. 
With your full bellies and content hearts, you keep wandering around, arm in arm, when suddenly something makes Aemond halt in his step. 
First thing you register is a bout of barking, turning to find a puppy biting Aemond’s ankle before standing on his hind legs to rest paw at Aemond’s pants.
The puppy barks and barks and jumps like an unstoppable ball of energy all over Aemond, making him all flustered and frozen for the sudden attention – before he kneels down, chuckling as the puppy immediately attacks Aemond’s face with kisses. 
An old man sitting on the sidewalk laughs at the sight; he’s in a heavy raincoat, sitting with a cardboard box of puppies by his side.
“This is the first time he’s ever run up to someone!” He calls to you both with a gruff voice. “He normally recoils from strangers and is so quiet. I’ve never seen that little fella this excited.” 
Aemond chuckles while trying not to fall back from how aggressive the puppy is with his affections – he scoops his small body up in his arms and rocks him as if he was a little baby – and that’s when he notices.
His heart sinks at the sight of the puppy’s missing eye – the same one that Aemond lacked, and that he covered with an eyepatch.    
You realize just a second later, heart forming a tight fist within your chest.
The puppy’s got the face of a little angel, looking up at Aemond as if he was his whole world, with his big, glistening black eye and his tongue out. His fur is short, but so soft looking and a little bit curly, and is the color of salt and pepper – race unknown. 
 “What happened to him?” You ask the man, as you kneel beside Aemond and the pup. 
“I found him and the rest of the pups abandoned in an alley. It was his crying that got my attention in the first place. I took him and his siblings to the vet but it was too late for the little one. The rest are a lively group but him – he’s always been really quiet. Doesn’t like playing with the rest and gets anxious around strangers.” 
A hopeful smile rises in the man’s lips when he sees just how loving the puppy is being with Aemond. 
Aemond merely smirks back shyly, before looking back down at the tiny baby in his arms, who’s paws were wiggling up in the air as if he was running, with his tongue out as if he was grinning with glee from Aemond scratching his tummy.
“Yes, I think I can relate to this one.” He murmurs a little brokenly, but only you can hear the change of pitch in his tone. 
When he’d confided the story of his own missing eye to you, you’d embraced him tightly, and had carefully kissed the scar that now traversed his left cheek.
All his life he’d been heavily bullied by his own family. His brother and cousins teased him about an array of mindless things that you could never comprehend, and at last, when he got the courage to defend himself, he’d been hurt. Pushed down to the gravel by his young nephew Luke, face landing right on a spiky rock as he fell. 
It’s part of the reason why he’s so quiet and reserved. Why his trust isn't given easily.
When you’d first met him in college  – you’d been instantly attracted to him, no doubt, but you couldn’t deny how intimidating he was. Soon you realized that he was simply desperate for affection, without a clue as to how to ask for it, or give it. But with consistency, time, a lot of patience and even more love and devotion, you’d found out just what an enormous heart Aemond had locked away within him, and you considered yourself immensely fortunate to be the one to care for it. 
With an arm around Aemond, you ask the man “Are they up for adoption?” to which he nods. “How much for him?” 
The owner shakes his head, brows furrowing earnestly as he looks up at the young pup, “Nothing at all. I just ask that he gets taken care of properly, gets his shots at the vet and goes to a loving home. I’d love to be sent photos to see how the little one is doing.” 
He gazes at the three of you with nothing but heartfelt gratitude pouring from his eyes, as he stands up to go kneel beside Aemond, and give the puppy one final pet. 
“Does he have a name?” Aemond asks – smiling as the pup clings to his shoulders, vigorously licking his cheeks and neck and nose, every lasting inch of Aemond’s face that he can reach. 
“Nah, not yet. But I call him Patch because of the little tuft of black hair that he has on the spot of his missing eye. Looks like an eye-patch.”
The three of you chuckle, and Aemond leans back to look at his new son, with his thumbs caressing the puppy’s cheeks and ears lovingly.  
“Patch.” Aemond softly repeats to himself, testing the name on his tongue and making the puppy bark enthusiastically. 
“You think he’ll get along with Vaghar?” You ask, referring to Aemond’s great dane. An old lady that had been with him ever since his accident – who’d been his one and only friend until you came into the picture. 
Aemond's face illuminates with a smile so big and bright like you’d never seen before on – the kind of smile that reveals those handsome dimples on his face that are otherwise hidden. “She was the only one to comfort me back then, I don’t think she’ll have a problem with Patch. After all, this little one and I are alike in many ways, it would seem.” 
The sound of Aemond’s laughter is one you want to keep forever, as he stands up, bringing Patch up in his arms and giving him a kiss on his delicate head. 
You thank the man on behalf of the two of you, then exchange phone numbers to keep in touch and send him updates on the puppy. 
Later that night, when the three of you are cuddled up in bed watching a movie whilst Vaghar slept in her own bed downstairs, you realized that maybe this was fated all along. You were meant to carry out your Sunday plans, regardless of a little rain. 
For Aemond was meant to cross paths with a little angel of his own, in the form of a loving puppy to keep softening up all of his hard edges. 
And rainy days, from now on, it wouldn't ever be gray and daunting as long as you had your very own patch of sunshine to keep you company.
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hotvintagepoll · 2 months
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Propaganda
Kay Francis (Jewel Robbery, I Loved A Woman, British Agent)— kay francis was an icon of glamor in her time and a top star of the 30s - she was the highest-paid actress at warner bros from 1930 to 1936. she tended to play characters who were charming, sophisticated, and elegantly dressed, and starred in at least one legitimate masterpiece, the sublime 1932 comedy trouble in paradise. her first big role was in the marx brothers movie the cocoanuts in 1929, and she and william powell made seven movies together between 1930 and 1932. even in her sillier movies she always elevates the material with her charm and presence - she never phones it in and there’s a sort of warm, knowing wittiness about her. a really good short promo from a retrospective of her movies that i think really gets her Vibe across
Elisabeth Welch (Song of Freedom, Big Fella, Dead of Night)— Starry-eyed, honey-voiced, magnetic. A Broadway star in the 1920s, she SHOULD have become a torch-singing Hollywood star when talking pictures came in. Instead she was faced with Hollywood racism, so she moved to Europe and juggled British movie roles and a top-class cabaret career. (Heard the classic songs "Stormy Weather" or "Love For Sale" or "As Time Goes By"? She introduced them all.) You need to hear her croon, so here she is co-starring with certified hot vintage man Paul Robeson [video below the cut]
This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Kay Francis:
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Jewel Robbery clip
"From 1932 through 1936, Francis was the queen of the Warner Bros. lot, and, increasingly, her films were developed as star vehicles. By 1935, Francis was one of the highest-paid actors, earning a yearly salary of $115,000, dwarfing the $18,000 Bette Davis – who would one day occupy Francis's dressing room – made. From 1930 to 1937, Francis appeared on the covers of 38 film magazines, second only to child sensation Shirley Temple's 138." Source: Wikipedia. Kay Francis is like the MOST FAMOUS Actress from the 1930s you've never heard of--and it was her and Norma Shearer who wore and made classic the 1930s tall, slim, bias cut silhouette. She ALSO has a WHOLE PODCAST episode devoted to her life and career in Hollywood--it's fascinating! She is both tough and a total wet cat.
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One of the TALLEST Warner Brother stars at 5’9” and known as a “clothes horse” for her glamorous roles wearing the height of 1930s fashion. She fell out of popularity in the 40s, but her 30s work sizzles. The scene with her and Herbert Marshall in Trouble in Paradise where she says she doesn’t care about his reputation (because she’d rather sleep with him?) HAWOOGA
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melted my gay heart with her butch look in stolen holiday
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"My life? Well, I get up at a quarter to six in the morning if I'm going to wear an evening dress on camera. That sentence sounds a little ga-ga, doesn't it? But never mind, that's my life ... As long as they pay me my salary, they can give me a broom and I'll sweep the stage. I don't give a damn. I want the money ... When I die, I want to be cremated so that no sign of my existence is left on this earth. I can't wait to be forgotten." —From Kay Francis's private diaries, c. 1938
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Elisabeth Welch:
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kanekoii · 6 months
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hiiiii could i request a fic with doppio (maybe other people too) x reader where the reader is just. so short. like 5ft short lollll i started thinking about our difference in height and got starry eyed
lyra’s notes -> as a shortie myself this fic is short person approved (i kid you not i’m 4’11 cries)
pairings -> doppio dropscythe, hex haywire, ren zotto x gn! reader (just chose some tall fellas to write for)
genre -> scenario
song -> chill - stray kids
warnings -> they’re all a little mean except ren im sorry
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DOPPIO DROPSCYTHE ->
he doesn’t mean to be condescending about it but he is by accident. he really doesn’t mean to tease you about how tiny you are compared to him height-wise, he just accidentally makes comments like “oh you probably can’t reach that shelf can you?” and giggles when he sees you get all defensive. he’s just a tall guy so he’s always asking if you can reach things and if you need his help. eventually he’ll realize he’s teasing you, but don’t expect that to mean he’ll stop. he’ll actually do it more now that he knows how to make you flustered and defensive about your height. it’s just adorable!
HEX HAYWIRE ->
this motherfucker. he knows what he’s doing. he knows you know you’re short and he’s here for it! you’re SO adorable when you get all flustered and frazzled when he teases you over your height. considering he’s one of the tallest in EN, it’s so adorable seeing you and him together when your height difference is so big! he knows how to tease you and get under your skin too so don’t expect to ever feel tall around him cuz he will put you in your place.
REN ZOTTO ->
he’s actually quite cute about it, always lifting you up and making sure you can see over certain things in your environment. he thinks it’s ADORABLE!! absolutely so precious when you try to reach the top shelf without his help, ren just watching from the background and laughing to himself at your struggles until you admit defeat and ask for his help. he won’t help you until you admit defeat and admit that you need help reaching something on one of the taller shelves from your tall alien boyfriend. he’s not the tallest guy ever but his little horns/antennae add to his height quite a bit. so he gets tall privilege
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jakes3resin · 2 months
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Drops this here and flees back to my A/B/O fic doc
"You're a Brit?" The question comes from Curt, and Bucky bites the inside of his cheek.
"Parents were." Bucky says simply turning back to his drink, but Curt's three drinks deep and knows Bucky too well by now to let him get away with that answer.
"But you said you're from Wisconsin?"
"I am," Bucky nods. Curt gives him a look, and Bucky can feel Buck staring at him. "I was raised there after I turned 3. Came here for a few years for boarding school, but my aunt and uncle brought me back before I turned 18."
"How come?" Croz joins in setting down a tray of drinks, and Bucky wishes they'd let this go. There's a reason he doesn't talk about all this.
"I asked." Bucky smiles. "The weather sucks, and I was bored."
"Sorry chaps, did you just say you went to boarding school here?" One of the RAF pilots that likes to stick their nose into Bucky's conversations butts in. Bucky resists the urge to bang his head against the table.
"This fella, right here." Curt smacks Bucky's shoulder, and Bucky sends him a look to cut it out. He catches Buck's eye and sees the questions building in his blue eyes. Bucky turns away. He can't answer those questions.
"Where abouts?" The RAF pilot clearly doesn't see how done with this topic Bucky is.
"Scotland." Bucky answers with a sharp grin. "Old school, but you won't know it."
"Bloody hell," The man stares at Bucky wide-eyed, and he can feel Buck tensing, whether it's to defend Bucky or to stop him from doing something stupid that's still unclear. "You didn't go to Hogwarts, did you?"
Bucky freezes. He stares up at the Brit, grin sharp and eyes a bit dangerous. Most wizards know not to talk too loudly about magic around Muggles and No-Majs, but this guy's deeper in his cups than half the bar.
"For a few years." Bucky confirms sounding like he was pulling out teeth with each word. "You go there too?"
"Of course! Sorted right into Gryffindor!" The man straightens up suddenly affronted that Bucky would dare even think the opposite. "It's the finest school!"
"This side of the Atlantic sure." Bucky leans back, trying to distance himself.
"If you went to Hogwarts, what are you doing palling around with this bunch?"
"Cause I want to." Bucky watches Curt glare at the Brit, but he's calling over more Brits before any of them can stop him.
"Reginald! Listen to this, this chap here says he went to Hogwarts!" The shocked looks on the faces of the gathered British pilots makes Bucky question how the hell they've kept magic secret for centuries. If a few drunk flyboys can talk this openly, what the hell are they doing to keep the secret?
"Preposterous," Bucky thinks it's Reginald who says that, but he doesn't care. "Hogwarts doesn't allow Americans. You, what family are you from?"
"Family?" Croz murmurs looking lost. Buck's gaze is still sitting heavy on Bucky's shoulders. Bucky sighs, truly over these idiots.
"Why do you wanna know all that?" Curt glares up at Reginald. He doesn't understand what the man's on about, but he knows he's insulting Bucky.
"Only the most noble houses could pull an American into Hogwarts." Reginald sniffs, and out of the corner of his eye, Bucky sees Buck finally turn his attention away to place a calming hand on Curt's shoulder. Curt settles back unhappily. "Riffraff doesn't make the cut."
"Right, riffraff," Bucky murmurs. Buck swings his focus back to him now.
"So, out with it!" One of the other Brits urges.
"Out with what?" Bucky says with a laugh. "You boys know my name."
"Yes, but what Noble House do you come from?" The original Brit rolls his eyes at him obviously over Bucky's stalling.
"Is this really that important?" Croz tries to intervene, but the RAF boys steamroll over him.
"Unless of course, you're lying about attending Hogwarts." One of the flyboys grins mockingly. Bucky grits his teeth. This is why he doesn't talk about his family. Brits always going on and on about blood and prestige. He hates it. "Trying to fit in, are we?"
Bucky stares up at them. There's a reason he'd kept his old name quiet. He doesn't want the fuss. But it looks like he has no choice here. These boys won't leave him alone until he coughs it up.
"Scamander, got it?" Bucky grins up at the idiots surrounding him. His hands twitch, a phantom weight in his palm that he ignores. "Now beat it."
"Great Scott, don't tell me you're related to Theseus Scamander?"
Bucky sucks at his teeth.
"That's my cousin." He admits, hoping this will be enough to sate their curiosity. He's wrong. The boys explode, some asking questions, others denying that he's related to such an esteemed gentleman.
Buck's gaze has never felt so heavy.
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