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#fix me the same day i go in to get it looked at or so help me
luveline · 3 days
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Missing my zombie!steve husband 🫶🏻
quiet day at the camp… hope something bad isn’t brewing… zombie apocalypse au <3 fem, 2k
Steve loves the sound of the river, but he only allows himself a moment to lay down on the riverbank during laundry hours. 
You stand knee deep in the water with your pants and sleeves rolled up, the corrugated metal of an old shed roof that’s been repurposed into a washing board held to your chest. It was pointless to roll your sleeves up, you’re soaked to the bone, even your hair, but the summer sun keeps you warm. 
“Don’t get too hot!” you call. 
“I’m fine,” he says, unwilling to shout. 
“He’s fine!” Robin shouts from beside him. “Numbskull.” 
Steve stares at you, locking you in, so to speak, the nice shape of your hip and stomach, the mess of your wet hair. Tonight, he’ll help you fix it, but there’s no rush and no hurry to dry off while the sun is out, and the fences are up. He turns onto his stomach. Grass tickles his cheeks. 
“You sure you’re okay?” Robin asks quietly. 
“Fine. Can you tell me if she needs help?” 
“Sure.” He listens to the sounds of her moving, likely pulling the slim lengths of her legs against her chest to hug herself, the tan leaves of a book spread out just in front of her. 
Steve could really go for a cigarette. You swapped the last box you found for toothpaste, isn’t that how it always goes? You and Robin found a cheat code in the apocalypse, nicotine with a capital ‘N’. You swap Arctic chewable for socks without holes and boxes of Marlboro’s for the bathroom essentials. Everybody wants them, and you’re great at finding them. Steve never thought he’d crave a cigarette again considering he wasn’t addicted, having smoked for a couple of months in high school to feel cool with his friends, stopping when his mom asked him to. He doesn’t remember why. She’d asked, and he’d listened, as he used to do. Swim team, cross country, basketball, lifeguard training, mowing the lawn, not upsetting his father, taking out the trash, vacuuming, no drinking and driving; task after task after task. Some of it was easy. He liked doing the dishes, and he loved taking care of his mom even if she didn’t feel the same. 
Not that it matters now. Does it matter now? He’s never gonna see her again. She’s a memory. She’s a bad memory, most of the time. 
The more he reflects on it, he decides. She was a bit shitty, but she’s his mom, and she’s likely gone, so he’ll try to remember the cookies they made together and the way she’d smile at him after she tied his shoelaces before school. And also the mean fucking bitch she’d turn into when she drank two glasses of wine. 
“What are you thinking about?” Robin asks.
“That’s the wrong soap,” you say from the river. Your voice floats over the breeze. 
“Fuck off, soap is soap,” Eddie says, your not-so-new friend, Steve’s sworn enemy. 
“I’m just saying,” you laugh. “Look, I’ll wash, you rinse.” 
“I’m thinking about that time,” Steve begins, holding his hand out toward her, open but not expectant, “when my mom and dad came home early from his business trip in Missouri and found us sleeping together.” 
“I’d never heard your dad laugh before,” Robin says. 
“My mom really didn’t like you after that.” He smiles as she takes his hand. They were a lot more touchy, pre-apocalypse. He misses that sometimes. 
“I don’t even think she thought we were dating.” 
“She was disgusted.” 
“She said we were being weird teenagers.”
“I guess we were. I never had a friend like you before so maybe I can’t blame her,” he says. He has something special with you, you’re a best friend because you’re half of his heart, but Robin was his first proper best friend, and remains it. “I missed you a lot when we were stuck in Indiana. There were a ton of times where shit would go wrong and I would get mad at you because I knew you’d know how to fix it, but you weren’t there.” 
“You’d get mad at me?” Robin asks, squeezing his hand. “You jerk. Be mad at yourself.” 
“Can you wait for me next time?” he asks.
Robin’s quiet, then she laughs, “I’m nodding but you can’t see.” 
He wonders how she’s feeling. He admits to not doing that much in the past. Not that he didn’t think about how he made others feel, he was always worrying about that after Nancy, but he can’t say he thought of it in the moment. Steve forces himself to sit up and offer his arms for a hug, which Robin gladly accepts, her frazzled laugh on his neck as he pats her back. 
“Are you okay?” she asks. 
“You know Y/N says I’m possessive?” 
Robin leans away, fingers curled around his elbow. “You’re fighting?” 
“No, just. She says I’m possessive, that I get mad about, you know, my people.” 
“Right. Isn’t everybody?” 
“I never thought I did. I’m not, like, too proud most of the time.” 
“Steve, this is super introspective,” she says, frowning, smiling, a weird expression somewhere melding in the middle of happy and concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s fine if you’re not.” She laughs shrilly. “I woke up the other day and cried and then ten minutes later I felt fine. I’m far from okay.” 
Steve glances past Robin’s head to watch you in the river. You’re sitting down amongst the stones. It really isn’t too deep, water to your ribcage washing suds down to Munson, who’s smiling at you kindly, not smarmy or flirting, just smiling. 
“Why did you cry?” he asks quietly. 
“I missed my cousin, I think.” 
Steve curls his arm behind her head and encourages her in for a fiercer hug. 
“Think we should probably go help them,” she mumbles. 
He takes it for the brush off that it is; sincerity is too much to take, sometimes. If she wants to be evasive about it that’s okay, she already took the leap and admitted to getting upset. 
“I cried thinking about Y/N’s hands the other day,” he says. 
“Steve.” Robin rubs her eye with the heel of her hand. “I don’t even know what to tell you.” 
“What? I’m trying to show you I’m pathetic so you don’t feel bad.” 
“I know you’re pathetic, and I don’t feel bad.” She climbs off of the ground and brushes broken grass off of her legs. Steve climbs up next to her, nudging her with his elbow. “You’re mucho pathetic. It’s kind of crazy.” 
“I think I might try and drown him,” he says conversationally. 
“Why now?” 
“Why do you think?” Steve asks, toeing off his shoes and peeling off his socks, nearly pitching forward on the wet bank closer to the river.
You and Eddie look up as they approach from different spots of the water. Your smile at seeing him winds him for the thousandth time, just so happy to see him, so in love with you he doesn’t even know what to do for a few seconds. “Hey, honey,” he says, “can I help?” 
“Now you wanna help?” you ask, gesturing to your soaked front. 
You’re messing with him, and he doesn’t care anyways, you can talk to him like crap if you want to. He shuffles down from the mud of the riverbank and into the water, cold and wet like a shock against his ankles, softer as it climbs to his knees. You’re sitting where it’s more shallow, opposed to Eddie on his knees and almost drowning further down. He puts his hand on your wet shoulder and kneels down in the water beside you. “Wanna hug?” you tease. 
Steve hugs you. Doesn’t care that you’re soaking or that the water is freezing against his crown jewels, though he shivers by your ear, prompting your laugh like bubbles in his own. “It’s cold,” he says. 
“Freezing!” 
Not to be a freak, but he can feel your chest pressed to him, and he knows you get achy in the cold. He wraps his arms doubly behind your back and rubs at your sides. “How much laundry’s left?” he asks. “We’re gonna get hypothermia. Again.” 
“You didn’t get hypothermia,” you remind him, folding into his space. “Steve… is everything okay?” 
“Do I look mopey today? Robin just asked me the same thing.” 
“You don’t look mopey, but you’re being touchy. You’re cuddling.” 
“How am I not supposed to cuddle you, dummy? I’m keeping you warm enough to function right now. Without me you’d be an ice cube floating down the river.” He leans back to hold your face in one hand, your cheek under his thumb, water racing down his wrists and your neck. 
You push against his hand gently with your cheek. 
“Sorry,” he says. 
“What for?” 
For lots of things. “I didn’t realise how cold the water was. I would’ve come to help you.” 
“It’s fine. I scrub everything and then Eddie catches it. We’ve only lost one pair of underwear,” you say. “The river’s like a long washing machine.” 
“How much do you have left?” he asks. 
“Nothing. I was just about to get out.” 
“Couldn’t have told me that before I came to get you?” 
“No,” you say, lifting your chin. Not challenging, but close. It’s an offer, Steve decides, kiss me or don’t kiss me. You don’t seem to realise he doesn’t decide, he needs you. If you always wanted to kiss him, you’d always be kissing, all the time, everywhere. 
Steve gives you a quick peck. “Come on, let’s go set up the line.” 
You somehow, together, make your way back to the tents without freezing to death after throwing your clothes on a drying line between trees. It’s warm enough that stripping down to your skivvies is mildly pleasant (away from the eyes of the other campers). You get dressed in the softest clothes you own upon Steve’s insistence, sweatpants and a dark hoodie, three pairs of socks and the tent door left open, before he lays you down on the sleeping bag, and settles between your legs, his full weight bearing down on you, his face nestled in the damp crook of your neck. 
“I couldn’t kiss you the right way,” he confesses. 
“Why?” You pull mildly at the ends of his hair. 
“‘Cos I always want more than one kiss.” 
“That’s a strangely romantic way to say you wanted to make out with me,” you whisper. 
“It’s not like that,” he insists, even though he does want to, and he did in the river, and he does all the time.
“You’re getting kinda heavy, Steve,” you mumble. 
“What?” 
“It’s a good thing.” 
“How dare you.” 
“We got sorta frail for a bit.” You wrap an arm around his head, tip of your nose to his forehead. 
“Yeah. Lucky we’re in camp Eddie now,” Steve says. 
“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” you murmur, so close to sleeping Steve can tell. You just need a feeling of security to nudge you over the edge. 
“Lucky we’re together.” He climbs off of you slowly so as not to rouse you too much, kissing your slack cheek as he settles on your shoulder. “You and me. I don’t care where we are.”
He ends up falling asleep not long after you, lulled by the rhythm of your light snore. 
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sometimesanalice · 2 days
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Make Me Your Masterpiece
Summary: Bob credits you for helping him to find his new hobby. And when he asks if he can you paint you, you find you quite like the idea of being his muse.
Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader
Length: 4.5K
Warnings: fluff, smut, and basically an ode to Lewis Pullman’s hands (mdni)
(Author’s Note: smutty fics are the new friendship bracelet, spread the word! Happy Birthday, Ames! 🎉 @laracrofted)
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You’ve always had a thing for Bob’s hands.
They were one of the first things you noticed about him that day at the coffee shop almost a year ago now.
You’d been reaching for your iced vanilla cinnamon latte when a big hand had wrapped around it just a half of a second before you could grab it. Which you wouldn’t have minded admiring them for a moment under any other circumstances, but after an endless string of meetings you’d been in a dire need of a caffeine fix- and not the weak stuff that people brewed in your office’s communal coffee pot.
“I think that’s-” you’d started.
“Oh, I’m sorry-” the coffee thief backpedaled.
The next thing you knew you were looking into the prettiest pair of ocean blue eyes. 
The two of you were startled out of the moment when the barista called out the next order as they’d set it on the counter.
By some kismet or fate, they had been a matching set. But instead of embroidered towels, it was his and hers coffee cups with your names written on them in a hasty scrawl.
Realization dawned over his features as he gave you a sheepish smile, “Think this one might belong to you, Miss.” He spun the coffee until he found the spot with your name. That little smile becoming a full grin as he’d said it aloud before passing the cup to you.
The hands had been good, the eyes had been great, but Bob’s smile directed at you had left you weak in the knees.
You’d been a goner right then and there.
And while you’d ended up almost ten minutes late to your next meeting, you’d also gone back to the office with his phone number written on a cardboard coffee sleeve that was tucked away safely in your purse and a date lined up later that week.
As it turned out fate had a name and it was Robert Floyd.
Barely twenty minutes into your first official date with Bob, his ears had turned a delightful shade of pink as his anxious fingers straightened the silverware on the white linen tablecloth of the Italian spot he’d taken you to. He’d fessed up and apologized as he came clean, telling you that he’d purposefully ordered the same coffee as you in hopes of getting to start up a conversation with the pretty girl who’d been standing in front of him in line.
“I didn’t want to interrupt you, since you looked busy. But I didn’t want to miss my chance,” he’d confessed over candlelight.
He’d told you how he’d only been at the coffee shop because he’d recently returned from a deployment and was fighting the jetlag that came with adjusting to being back on Pacific Standard Time, and that he normally preferred tea but he needed something with a bit more to it to get him through the day.
Instead of getting up and taking the bottle of wine to-go as a consolation prize, like you would have if it had been anyone else, his genuine earnestness had charmed you instantly. And you’d settled on having a second date with him before the first one had even really started.
You only let him sweat it for about thirty seconds before you took pity on him. With a light fingertip, you traced along one of the veins on the back of his hand and simply asked, “So other than being a meet cute mastermind, what is it that you do for a living, Bob?”
It was the best first date you’d ever had.
For your second date with him, you’d bought tickets to a ‘Paint and Sip’ event at a buzzy new bistro in town your friend had told you about.
You weren’t an artist by any means, but during that dinner date his antsy fingers and expressive hands had clued you into how nervous he’d been. You’d found your eyes drifting to them on more than one occasion. Partly because they were so enticingly disproportionate to the rest of him, but also because you couldn’t look him directly in the eye for too long without feeling your face heating up.
You thought it would be a good way for the both of you to work past the getting-to-know-you jitters, something that would keep your hands and eyes occupied enough to relax a bit more and have fun together.
Although instead of the seascape class you’d thought you’d signed up for, you’d willingly paid $86+ tax to watch Bob’s lithe, long fingers delicately grip a paintbrush in a way you thought was going to make you lose your mind.
You’d spent the whole first hour trying and failing to mix the perfect shade of blue before giving up when you’d realized that the man next to you, in addition to having really great hands, was also very good at painting. 
Bob had seemed surprised by that too because he’d kept flushing that wonderful shade of pink that had quickly become your new favorite color every time you complimented his piece.
He had steady, capable hands. But you were quickly learning that everything about Bob Floyd seemed that way. There was a quiet confidence about him. He didn’t shy away from the way he’d openly observed you, like you were a riddle he was enjoying learning to decode. 
You’d never known a man to be so attentive until him.
Bob’s tongue was peeking out as he’d worked on adding some wispy clouds to the top of his piece. You weren’t even sure what step you’d technically stopped at before you’d given up to watch the visual feast of him painting instead. Only halfheartedly adding random bits to your canvas along the way to make sure it wasn’t totally blank by the end of the session.
You’d been so zoned out watching him create that it was like a slow-motion sequence in a horror movie. You’d reached out for your wine glass, lifting it to your lips to take a sip, it had only taken you a split second to realize it wasn’t the full-bodied red you’d ordered that was coating your tongue, but the murky, gritty paint water instead.
Mortified, you’d looked over just in time to see Bob’s empathetic wince. You’d been hoping to fly under the radar, but it had turned out that you’d had more than one set of eyes on you.
“And we officially have our first casualty of the evening, folks,” the instructor cheerily announced to the group, “The rest of you can breathe easy now!”
You wanted to be able to laugh at your own expense, but you’d groaned as you buried your face in your hands.
It was not the way you saw the night going. You wanted to be dazzling, you wanted that pivotal third date with him. But now you were the girl who drank paint water whose canvas looked like it had all the same efforts as an enthusiastic fourth grader.
Bob’s hands had gently wrapped around your wrists before he’d pulled them from your face. And then he’d leaned in close, taking your chin in his hand and kissed you squarely on the lips, his tongue dipping in and sliding against yours to taste the acrylic pigment from your surprised mouth.
“Huh,” he’d said, contemplatively. He’d pulled away only far enough to look into your eyes and give you a soft smile. “Celadon blue doesn’t taste like a Cabernet, go figure.”
He brushed a light kiss against your cheek as he’d passed you your wine glass so that you could rinse the paint water taste out of your mouth. 
You couldn’t help but to still be a little embarrassed, but then you’d caught the way he’d shoot an unimpressed look at the instructor every time they passed by for the rest of the evening. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor when you had a Bob Floyd with a paintbrush and a cutting side eye.
You took him home with you that night and learned for yourself just how capable those hands of his were.
It was only later that you realized the exact shade of blue that you’d been trying so hard to capture earlier that night was the same color as the eyes that gazed down at you as Bob fucked you for the very first time.
There was no way you could have known that the ‘Paint and Sip’ date would have inspired him to pick up painting as a hobby.
First, he’d started taking classes at the Rec Center. His once a week classes later turned into him checking out books from the library. And then he’d turned his spare bedroom into a studio, as it has the best afternoon light in the Spanish style house he rents near the Naval base. He’d even bought a comfy chair for you to curl up in as he painted, a little nook of your own in his favorite space in his home. And steadily, the walls of both your apartment and his place fill up with all of his creations.
You’d even had your favorite one professionally framed. The pretty landscape done in shades of soft greens that he gave to you for your birthday hangs in a place of honor above your bed. You like having that piece of Bob as one of the last things you see before you fall asleep and one of the first things you see in the morning on the rare occasion the two of you aren’t sharing a bed. You liked to imagine the hours he spent on it with the sunlight streaming through the open window as he lovingly and painstakingly created something just for you with his own two hands.
Although you did have to beg him to sign it for you. He claimed that since he does it for fun that there’s really no reason too, but you were adamant about it and he’d eventually caved and scrawled his name in the lower right-hand corner.
Now it’s become your personal mission to ensure that every Bob Floyd original has his signature on it when he gives his paintings out as gifts.
Everyone assumes that his art would be all straight lines and precise angles, but it’s your favorite moment when people get to see his abstract landscapes. He’d told you he spends so much time in the sky that he likes to paint what’s on the ground, the things he doesn’t get to see when he’s 50,000 feet in the air.
You could tell Bob was a little nervous when he first asked to paint you. 
After almost a year with him, you’d think he’d know by now that you’d do anything for him. Not to mention, you were more than a little in love with the idea of being his muse.
“Are you saying you want to paint me like one of your French girls?” you’d teased with a grin, unable to resist the opportunity. You always did have a thing for men with perfectly floppy hair.
He’d tipped your chin up so that you were looking into his blue eyes- a color you were positive couldn’t be replicated- and stated, “No, I want to paint you like my girl.”
Which is how you’ve ended up naked on the floor of his living room.
You’d been surprised when you came downstairs to see that the furniture had all been pushed to the side to make space for the king-sized top sheet he’d laid out on the floor. You figured it must have been from some mismatched set he had stashed in his linen closet because you’d never seen it before and you spent more than enough time in his bed getting familiar with his sheets.
Bob was shirtless and wearing only a pair of loose-fitting and paint stained jeans that were hanging low on his hips as he worked on getting all of his brushes and paints set up.
You were pretty sure that Michelangelo himself wouldn’t be able to do proper justice to Bob’s body. He wasn’t as built as some of his friends on the Dagger Squad were, but there was an undeniable sturdy steadfastness to him. Those defined shoulders and arms often were the stars of your afternoon daydreams, since you got to admire his handsome face anytime your phone lit up.
He came and met you at the bottom of the stairs, giving you a low whistle, “Well, aren’t you as pretty as a picture in my shirt.”
“Oh,” you’d said, feigning surprise and toying with the hem, “So it is.” And then you’d slowly lifted it up and off of you, revealing more of your body to his artist’s eye.
You never felt as good about yourself as you did when you were naked in front of Bob. The color of his morning skies eyes would always darken to a deep shade of Prussian blue as he took in the curves of you. With him you always felt appreciated, wanted, desired.
His greedy hands came to grip your hips pulling you to him until you were pressed against him.
“Is this how you wanted me?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair.
Bob slipped his hand behind your neck and tugged you in for a heated kiss. “I always want you.”
You never knew true distraction until you’d felt Bob’s lips against yours all those months ago. You’d happily lose minutes, hours, days to them. The thing about Bob is that he never does anything halfway. If he’s kissing you, he’s doing it thoroughly until you’re out of breath.
The sound of the air conditioner kicking on and the light draft that it coasted over you reminded you that there were other plans on the agenda. And that the sooner he starts, then the sooner he finishes, and the sooner you can feel his lips on other parts of you.
“Where do you want me?”
“In my bed,” he murmured against your lips.
His name started as a laugh but turned into a sigh as he dropped a line of kisses down your neck, “I meant, like on the couch or on one of the chairs from the kitchen.”
Bob pulled away and peered deep into your eyes, “Darlin’, I wanted to paint you.” He trailed a teasing finger down your soft stomach. “If that’s alright with you.”
You thought you were just going to be his subject, but as it turns out he wanted you to be his canvas too.
You’re trying not to shiver as he meticulously coats your overheated skin with cool paint. Goosebumps follow in the wake of every delicate stroke he makes along your body.
His hair was curled over his forehead in a way that had your fingers aching to touch him. There was a slight furrow between his eyebrows as he concentrated on the deliberate lines and curves he painted on you. The paint smudge on his cheek only made him all the more attractive to you.
Bob had tucked a pillow beneath your head before he’d started, a gesture that you appreciated now because time had lost all meaning to you. You had no idea how long you’ve been lying there. You were pretty sure every inch of you had to be covered by now.
He’d started along the plane of your stomach and steadily worked his way out from there. Up your arms. Along your clavicle. Over your breasts and tops of your thighs. You didn’t miss the way he’d smirked when you arched into that soft to the touch paintbrush as it glided over your peaked nipple. Or the way he’d hummed pleased when you’d try to subtly rub your thighs together to relieve the need that had been building as you laid there.
Bob loves taking his time with you. In bed, he loved teasing you until you had tears in your eyes and were begging for his cock. And it became clear very quickly that this would be no different.
There was an electric thrum that was pulsing through your body with every dip and swirl and brushstroke. The muscles of your stomach jump involuntarily as the fine hairs of his paintbrush drift over your hypersensitive skin making you whimper.
He tsks, “Gotta stay still for me, pretty girl. I’m almost done, promise.”
You release a shaky sigh and nod, not trusting your voice to betray just how needy you were for him. Although the self-satisfied smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.
You try to control your breathing as he works on finishing, but your shallow breaths sounded loud in his living room. You love getting to watch him work normally, but the intense way he is looking at you- his eyes your favorite shade of Prussian blue now- is too much for your hummingbird heart.
Just as your skin was collecting layers of paint from his brush, the space between your thighs was steadily collecting your wetness. You were so desperate for him to touch you, the need made you want to crawl out of your skin.
You hear the sound of a watery swish and the clink of a brush against glass and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.  
“God, look at you,” Bob breathes, reverently, “You’re so beautiful. This might be my best work ever.”
Instead of the paintbrush, you can feel the path of his flame blue gaze traveling over you as he takes in the art he’s made out of you.
You open your heavy eyes and see Bob wiping off his hands with a frayed towel.
“There she is,” he says, giving you a smile that makes your toes curl. You didn’t notice it sitting there with all his paints until he was reaching for it, his dad’s old film camera. He holds it loosely in front of him like a question, “Can I take a few just for me?”
The answer is easy, “Yes.”
You trusted Bob more than any other man you’d ever been with. He’s never once given you reason to doubt his words because his actions always spoke for themselves.
The guys you’d been with before had been boys, Bob Floyd was a man.
The tension between the two of you is thicker than the acrylic he’d been using earlier as he snaps photo after photo. You admire the way his muscles shift as he bends and angles himself to get the perfect images.
He stands over you, the lens pointed down at you, “Look at me.”
You can barely breathe. You feel yourself getting even wetter at the thought of seeing yourself through his eyes. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.
“Bob”, you whine.
The camera clicks.
“I know,” he hums, “You’ve been so good for me.”  He sinks to his knees between your legs and hooks a hand behind your knee, pulling it up so it’s propped on the floor. And then he does the other so that you’re sprawled open for him, just the way he likes you to be, “Just one more, darlin’.”
The heat in his eyes has dried up all the words in your mouth.
He trails a finger down the soft skin of your inner thigh and you gasp.
The sound of his camera reverberates in your head.
“You’ve made such a pretty mess,” he drawls, as he gently sets the camera on the floor next to you. “It’s a good thing I put something down. You’re damn near dripping.”
“Bob, please.” You arch towards him like a flower in the sun.
He settles between your thighs and pushes them apart further so that his broad shoulders fit between them. The paint is still drying on your skin, but neither one of you cares about that now.
“You were so perfect for me. I appreciate you staying so still.” He drops a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t worry, I know just how to thank you.”
Your body jolts at the first touch of his tongue on your clit. You can feel his smile against you, he knows exactly what he does to you.
Bob has always eaten you out like it’s what he was put on this earth to do.
Normally, he’s teasing you with gentle licks and tracing nonsensical shapes on your clit with his tongue until you’re a squirming mess for him. He knows your body so well, always building you up to the point where you’re breaths away from tipping over the edge and then pulls himself back before building you right back up again.
But tonight, there’s nothing playful about the way his mouth is working against you. His hot mouth is sealed to your clit. Bob hums in satisfaction with every keen and whine that he pulls out of you. He laves at you until you’re writhing underneath him, your thighs already shaking.
“Wanna paint you just like this,” he murmurs, sucking at the spot where your leg and hip meet. “But I don’t think you’d stay still long enough for me to finish.”
Bob dips down and gives you another long broad stroke of his tongue. He pulls back only long enough to spit on your cunt before diving right back in, chasing after his own taste on you.
Your hands are in his hair. Clutching at his shoulders. It’s taken him no time at all getting you to the point where you’re trembling and taut.
All the air leaves your lungs when he buries two large fingers into you. Your hips cant into his mouth on their own and he moans. Bob wraps an arm around your hips and presses down on your lower stomach to hold you in place.
You feel the pain smear beneath his warm palm. You were dying to see it. You hoped there was a handprint- his handprint- that disrupted all the lines and swirls of color that he’d decorated you with. Something that was distinctly him.
You were wearing his art and now you’re wearing him. The evidence of this moment in time on your skin.
His fingers and tongue weren’t enough.
You needed more.
“You cock, Bob, I need your cock,” you pant, tugging at his hair.
He meanly sucks your clit into his mouth in a way that has you crying out and jerking against him. You love it, you love him.
“God, I love it when you beg for me,” he licks into you again, “Sweetest sound in the world.”
Bob drops a sweet kiss on your clit, it’s a stark difference to the filthy way he’d been using his mouth on you. He rises to sit back on his knees between your parted legs.
He looks so good kneeling above you the way that he is. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a mess. That knot behind your bellybutton twists tighter because you did that to him.
He unzips his jeans and tugs them down low enough to pull his hard cock out.
It’s pretty enough to be featured in a gallery, you think to yourself, even in your desperate haze. It’s long, thick, perfect and yours.
Bob smirks when he notices you admiring him, pumping himself slowly a few times for your viewing pleasure.
The only time Bob Floyd was ever a show-off was when he was in bed.
He grabs your thighs and pulls them over top of his own, so that yours are draped over his obscenely, and then he thrusts easily into you.
You gasp at the sensation of being so full of him. It always takes you a minute to adjust to his cock, no matter how many times you’ve taken it now. His thumbs make little circles along your hipbones as your body relents and yields to the size of him.
“There you go,” he says, rocking into you, working you open, “Just needed this cock, didn’t you?”
You whimper your agreement. Your hips tilt into the pressure like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Wanting to show him how much you can take. You know you’ll never get enough of him.
He fucks into you at a reckless and unrelenting pace. You’re high off the feeling of seeing Bob like this, that you’re the one who gets to see him unreserved and uninhibited. He has your hips gripped so tightly, keeping you closer than close. And when you clench around him, you’re treated to a wrecked groan.
Your skin prickles with desire and the feeling of paint drying on you. His cock is hitting just the right spot inside of you and you know you won’t be able to hold off for much longer, not with the way he’s grinding against your aching clit.
Bob’s eyes glued to the spot where you two come together. You’re on full display for him. He watches the way you stretch and spread around him with every deep thrust with the same appreciative gaze that he admires his favorite artists.
It’s under his river blue gaze that your orgasm swiftly sweeps you away. And with your back arching and thighs quaking around his, you give yourself up to the endless current of it.
You know he’s close when his hips start to stutter.
Bob pulls out of you and wraps his large hand around his slick-shined cock and works himself with rough, purposeful strokes.
This time he paints you with himself, his come covering your stomach.
The only sound in the room is the two of you breathing hard, trying to catch your breath.
“Jesus Christ,” Bob huffs, raggedly, taking in his handiwork, “You’re my masterpiece.”
You’re covered in paint and come, but you’ve never felt more beautiful than you do right now as he looks down at you in awe.
“Did you remember to sign your work this time?” you ask, out of breath but teasingly.
“I think I left my mark, darlin’,” he says, with well-earned smugness in his voice. You can’t help but giggle. He flops down next to you, throwing his arm over his eyes, “Goddamn.”
You prop yourself up onto your elbows to look at yourself.
“Baby, I think you gave Jackson Pollock a run for his money.” You grin widely when he lets out an amused snort. “Wait, where’s your camera?”
He passes it to you, the fondness in his eyes makes your chest feel warm. You scooch in close to him and hold it up above your heads, the camera flashes when you kiss his flushed cheek.
That picture is the first one that gets put up in the new house, the one the two of you chose together when he asked you to marry him six months later. Followed by the soft green landscape that now hangs above your shared bed.
It’s your favorite picture of the two of you, happy and in love. You can just see a hint of the cloud he’d painted on your shoulder.
That night Bob had decorated your body with the place he loved best.
He gave you the sky and he made you his world.
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Happy birthday, Ames! Your gift will be mailed eventually, it really was a lesson in chemistry, lol! Enjoy a Bob fic just for you in the meantime!
A big, bigggg thank you to the Bob Babes/Lew Crew girlies! @callsignspark and @attapullman I appreciate you two so much for being such ultimate hypegirls! And thank you to @theharddeck, you helped me out of my writers block and I've been so excited to write this since we talked about it back in January!
You can read my other stories here!
taglist:
@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader
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vbecker10 · 2 days
Note
Can you do a jealous ex where reader is with Loki and the ex starts getting mad and starts texting and calling reader constantly then one day she forgot her phone and Loki reads the texts and listens to the voicemails then reader comes home to a concerned Loki because reader got hurt somehow?
She's Mine Now
Pairing: Loki x female reader (y/n)
Summary: You and Loki have only just started dating and you're worried your ex-boyfriend will ruin everything. You've been able to hide how often your ex contacts you but one night he calls over and over while you are with Loki. After finally admitting to Loki what has been going on, the God of Mischief takes matters into his own hands.
Warnings: controlling ex-boyfriend, jealous ex-boyfriend, some vague mentions of previous abuse (nothing specific), arguing, swearing, threatening language, name calling, Loki being super protective
A/N: I'm so so so sorry it took me ages to get to this. I'm finally going through my request box and I loved this the minute I saw it. I changed it just a little but I hope that's OK. Thank you for sending it! I hope you like it! 💚
Also... I realized as I was proofreading this that I never named the ex-boyfriend so it's whatever you want it to be lol pick any jerk you know haha
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Loki sits on the end of his couch, your head resting on his shoulder while his fingers run slowly up and down your arm. You've only been together a month but you have completely fallen for him. You look up at him and smile when he laughs at the movie you selected.
He notices you watching him and kisses your nose causing you to giggle. "The movie is more interesting than I am, I assure you," he jokes.
"I've seen it," you respond but rest your head against him again.
Everything about him makes you want to tell him how perfect he is and how deeply you love him but you are afraid to. A small voice inside you keeps holding you back from opening up to him the way you want to. Every time you told you ex-boyfriend you loved him, he would tell you that you sounded clingy or needy or desperate. You don't want Loki to feel the same so you keep those three words to yourself.
Loki's fingers move from your arm to your back, moving in slow circles. You close your eyes and focus on how calming it feels but then his hand moves further up. He begins playing with your hair, his eyes still fixed on the screen, a small smile on his lips. You try to keep your thoughts from racing as you feel a familiar pit growing in your stomach. He's upset, he doesn't like your hair this way, your inner voice starts to spread panic throughout your body, he's going to grab a fistful of it any second and yell at you. You tense as his fingers gently run through your hair and he notices the change in your behavior.
"Are you okay, love?" he asks, he removes his hand and looks down at you concerned.
"Yea, I just-" you look down and begin playing with the sleeve on your sweater as your mind replays what happened the last time you got a haircut without talking to your ex first. "I'm sorry, I- I was going to ask you before I cut my hair. I know I should have but I was only going for a trim so I thought it was okay but then I saw a shorter style I really liked and I just went for it but-"
He cuts off your words suddenly when his lips met yours, your whole body responds to his kiss and the feeling of his hand softly touching your cheek, relaxing you instantly. He pulls back slightly, his eyes locked on yours so he knows you are listening to him. "It's your hair darling. You can do what you like with it," he gently plays with the ends of your hair. "You don't need to ask me to do things like this," he says as if it is obvious.
You nod and remind yourself for the hundredth time that Loki is not your ex-boyfriend.
He settles back on the couch, bringing you with him easily, his arm around you. He smiles and adds, "I'm sorry if I forgot to tell you that you look beautiful today."
You blush and bury your face against his chest, the heavy feeling inside of you vanishing completely. He kisses the top of your head and goes back to watching the movie. You close your eyes and force the images of your ex-boyfriend's reaction from your mind, replacing them with Loki's words.
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Half an hour later your phone vibrates on the coffee table. You lean forward to try and reach for it but Loki keeps his arm around you. You giggle and try again but he doesn't let go. He looks down at you and smirks, "Where do you think you're going?"
Your phone continues to vibrate. "I need to answer my phone," you roll your eyes.
He looks back towards the TV and dramatically puts his foot on the edge of the coffee table, sliding it further away from you as he straightens his leg.
"Loki!" you laugh as a smile spreads across his lips. He finally loosens his grip so you can get up. You pick up your phone but as soon as you see the number, you end the call and put it face down on the table.
"Who is it?" he asks.
"Wrong number," you answer with a shrug but the laughter is gone from your voice.
You sit heavily next to him and he waves his hand to bring the table back to its original spot. He doesn't respond but you know he can tell you are lying, his expression has become serious and his eyes remain fixed on your phone. Before you can think of a better excuse, your phone begins to vibrate again. You grab it and hang up quickly without stopping to see the number, you know who is calling.
"Who is it, Y/N?" he asks again, his tone is curious but you can feel your nerves getting worse.
"It's no one," you tell him as you tug on your sleeve again.
He sighs at your response and turns off the TV. "I don't like being lied to," he says as he faces you.
"I know," you shrink away from him, waiting for him to yell or tell you to leave.
"Y/N," he reaches out to touch your chin lightly, wanting you to look at him but you flinch away from his touch involuntary. He pulls away as well, giving you more space instead of invading yours. You look up after a moment and instead of seeing anger in his eyes as you expect, he looks sad.
You know in your heart Loki would never hurt you but your instincts had forced you to distance yourself from him. When your ex was upset because you had lied or had done something he thought was wrong, he could be unpredictable.
Your phone vibrates again and he sighs as he picks it up off the table. He hands it to you and says, "Whoever it is must really want to talk to you."
"I don't want to talk to him," you tell Loki, trying to hold back your tears. You toss it away from you wanting it as far from you as possible. It skims over the top of the coffee table and lands on the ground in front of the TV.
"Who keeps calling you, Y/N?" he asks again and this time you know you need to answer him.
You tuck your legs underneath you and move further away from Loki, wrapping your arms around yourself. He shifts his body to face you but doesn't move any closer. "It's my ex-boyfriend," you tell him, you try to keep the fear from your voice but you know he hears it.
"The one Wanda told me about?" he asks, his eyes glance towards your phone and you see a flash of anger cross his face.
You nod but don't say anything else, you had barely mentioned your ex to Loki for so many reasons. You aren't sure how much Wanda told Loki but it was obviously more then you had ever shared with him.
"Please talk to me," he says, moving towards you slowly, testing to see if you will pull away again. "I don't understand why he would still be calling you. I thought you ended things with him months before I met you."
"He started calling and texting me again a few days after our first date," you finally admit to Loki. "I don't know how he even found out about us..." your voice trails off as you look down.
You feel Loki move closer to you again and your body tenses as you prepare for an argument or worse, you shouldn't have hidden this from him, it was as bad as lying.
"I'm not texting him back I promise. I always ignore him. I don't want him to call me but he just keeps doing it, I've asked him to stop but he won't," you say quickly, all in one breath. Loki opens his mouth to say something but you are too afraid to give him a chance. "I didn't want you to be upset, that's why I didn't tell you, I wasn't trying to hide anything or lie about it, I'm sorry," you feel the apology pouring out as it had so many times with your ex. You cover your face with your hands but can't stop the first few tears from escaping.
"I'm not upset Y/N," he says softly. He gently touches your hands and slowly takes them away from your face, "I'm worried about you, that's all."
You look at him, not having expected that response. When your ex found out you were texting Wanda after work, he had been furious. He had never met her and didn't want you telling a stranger anything about him or your relationship.
"I'm sorry," you mumble quietly, not even sure what you are sorry for anymore.
"Please stop apologizing," he says in a calm voice, "You haven't done anything wrong." He wipes the tears from your cheeks, his eyes never leaving yours.
You nod and without thinking you answer him, "Sorry."
He gives you a half smile and puts his arms around you, pulling you close. You squeeze your eyes shut and press your cheek to his chest as he rubs your back slowly. He holds you and sighs, "I don't know what he did to you... and I will never ask you to tell me," he adds when you look up at him, "But I need you to remember that I am not him. I never want you to be scared of me, you can tell me anything."
"I know," you wipe your eyes again. "I'm sorry-"
He raises an eyebrow at you and you let out a small laugh. "There's that beautiful smile I love so much," he smiles in return.
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A few hours later, Loki lays awake staring at the ceiling, wishing you hadn't left. He has told you on numerous occasions that he sleeps much better when you are curled up in his arms. Unfortunately, you need to run an errand before work tomorrow so you had gone back to your apartment after the movie finished. Closing his eyes, he rolls over but sits up quickly when he hears a faint buzzing sound.
He gets out of bed and follows the sound into his living room. Loki looks around as the buzzing gets louder until he finally sees your phone lighting up on the floor just under the tv stand. You must have forgotten you threw it there when your ex-boyfriend was calling. He was worried when you didn't text him to say you arrived home like you always did, so at least now he knows why.
He stands still for a moment, watching it ring as he debates what to do next. The call ends and he bends down to pick it up then he takes a seat on the couch. After a few seconds, it vibrates once more notifying him that there is a new voicemail.
He sits back, phone in one hand with his other hand over his eyes. Loki trusts you more than anyone he has ever known, on Midgard or on Asgard and doesn't want you to think he's invading your privacy. It's not you he wants to check up on, it's your ex-boyfriend. Everything he knows about him, he heard from Wanda in one very short but eye opening conversation. She only told him what little she knew but it was enough for Loki to know that you deserved better. He sounded like a man you weren't safe with and your reaction to his calls tonight confirmed that for him. Loki would do anything to protect you so he takes a deep breath and unlocks your phone.
Thankfully he remembers your password, you had told him what it was last weekend so he could send himself some pictures you took together at the museum. He opens your call history and covers his mouth with his hand in shock. Fifty-three missed calls in the last week alone, he stares at the number in disbelief. You hadn't answered a single call but still he attempted to reach you over and over. Most of the calls came in groups late at night, like they had while you were watching the movie.
He opens your texts, feeling both guilty for looking around and angry knowing what he will likely find. He smiles a bit when he sees how you've saved his name in your phone, Mischief 💚, but immediately frowns when he sees an unsaved number right below his conversation with you.
He clicks on it, at first he barely reads the words, he just scrolls further and further down hoping to find the end. He sees text after text after text, some are long rants while others are a single insulting word and it seems to go on forever. Once a day is a text from you pleading with him to leave you alone but it only seems to enrage him.
Loki quickly goes from upset to angry to furious as he reads the threats and insults your ex-boyfriend had thrown at your over the last few weeks. He grinds his teeth as he thinks about you being afraid of your ex and the things he has done to you. He sits back and types out a lengthy reply but at the last second he deletes it.
With a smirk he sits forward with his elbows on his knees and begins to type a new, much shorter message. He hits send and waits a few moments. Your phone vibrates when your ex replies and Loki turns off your phone before going back to his room.
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You look both ways and cross the street quickly, excited to finally see Loki for lunch like you do every day. You spot him sitting on his usual bench just past the entrance to the park, lost in his book. You smile when he looks up, his book vanishing as he stands. He hugs you tightly then leans down to give you a kiss.
"I missed you," you tell him, his arms still around you.
"Then you shouldn't have left last night," he smiles. "Oh, I believe this is yours," he takes your phone out of his pocket.
"Thanks. I can't believe I forgot it, that was really stupid," you shake your head. You had realized when you got home last night that you had left it at Loki's but it was too late to go back.
Your heart stops when you realize its your ex-boyfriend. You look up at Loki, one of his arms is still around you but his eyes are fixed to your ex as he approaches with a wide smile and outstretched arms.
"You are not stupid," he corrects you and before you can respond you see someone walking over to you.
He continues towards you and when your brain finally registers that he is trying to go in for a hug you free yourself from Loki and quickly back away. Loki moves in response, putting himself easily between you and your ex which causes him to stop.
"Seriously Y/N?" he says, already sounding annoyed with you. "I drove all the way out here for lunch with you and you won't even give me a freaking hug? You're lucky I accepted your ridiculous invitation after you kept ignoring me."
Loki says, "Y/N did not invite you here, I did."
"Oh really?" he's looks from you to Loki and seems unphased that he is face to face with the Prince of Asgard. "What, are you looking for some tips on how to control her better?" he laughs to himself. "Of course, if you've decided you're done with her, I'll gladly take her back. I put years into fixing her, wouldn't want that to go to waste."
You take another step back as his eyes find you again and they roam up and down your body. You suddenly wish you hadn't worn a skirt and you cross your arms tightly around yourself. He always commented on how you dressed, he had so many opinions on what he wanted you to wear.
Loki notices how uncomfortable you are and brings the attention back to himself. "Do not look at her, this conversation is between you and me," he tells your ex.
He sighs and says, "Fine, what do you want?"
Loki holds his anger at back and in a controlled tone says, "You will apologize for how you treated her in the past and then you will leave, never return here or contact her again."
He almost laughs and says, "I treated her the way she deserved. She needed to learn how to behave and you should be thankful I trained her as well as I did."
Your eyes dart from your ex to Loki and your heart races with anxiety about what might happen next. Loki doesn't respond at first, you watch his fist clench and his jaw tighten. He looks like he is holding himself back from lashing out with every bit of strength he has.
"You have no idea what she was like before. When I first met her-" he tries to look at you but Loki cuts him off.
He walk steadily forward, glaring at him as approaches. "I will not stand here and listen to a pathetic mortal like you speak poorly of Y/N. She is kind, funny, generous, creative, beautiful and so much more. She never deserved to be mistreated by the likes of you. Y/N is a queen and I will ensure she is treated as such."
You can't take your eyes off of Loki, you've never had anyone speak about you this way before.
Loki stops just in front of your ex and says, "If you ever speak to her, text her or see her again, I will make sure you suffer greater than any human on Midgard has ever suffered before."
Your ex-boyfriend looks at him in shock but it quickly morphs into anger, he does not take being challenged or threatened well. He takes a small step backwards and says, "You can't just threatened me like that. You might be some fancy royal on your planet but here your just another asshole. If I want to talk to her, I will. She was mine once and I could take her back if I really wanted to."
As soon as the words come out of your ex's mouth, you know he finally pushed Loki too far. Loki's full armor and tall horned crown appear in a bright flash of gold and green. Your ex goes quiet in an instant as you are both reminded that Loki truly is a God among men.
The God of Mischief looms over him, staring down at him, daring him to speak again. Loki raises one hand and suddenly your ex is picked up by his throat, a green mist surrounding his neck. He tries to claw at it but Loki's magic brings him closer, until they are eye to eye. In a dark voice, Loki says, "She's mine now."
Your ex-boyfriend looks utterly terrified and a part of you can't help but enjoy seeing the fear in his eyes after all the pain he inflicted on you. You watch, your heart still pounding quickly. As much as you want your ex to suffer, you are afraid Loki will go to far, you've never seen him so angry. Look had worked so hard over the last few months to gain the trust and support of the Avengers, if he hurts your ex he will have to face serious consequences. As much as you hate your ex-boyfriend, its not worth risking Loki's future with the team or with you.
Loki's magic brings him closer, until the are inches from each other, his feet dangling helplessly above the ground. "Do not doubt for a moment that I will do what needs to be done to protect the woman I love. Is that clear?" Loki asks and he nods rapidly in response.
Loki releases him from his grasps and he falls to the ground. Getting up quickly, he runs from the park without looking back.
Loki's magic vanishes, his crown and armor fading away in the breeze as he turns to face you. The determination and rage in his eyes is gone, replaced with his own nervous fear. Your eyes remain locked on him as he slowly walks towards you.
"Y/N," he asks softly. You don't answer, your mind still processing the events from a few moments ago. "I'm sorry, I never meant to let my temper get so out of control but I just couldn't bear to listen to him talk about you for another moment," he explains and you nod in understanding.
He reaches out to take your hand, looking down as your finger interlock and sighs. "I told you not to be afraid of me and then I showed you exactly what kind of terrifying monster I really am. I never wanted to scare you, I only wanted him to leave you alone."
"You um..." you pause, biting you lip as you think. "You said you love me?"
"Loki," you close the distance between you and touch his cheek with your other hand. "I could never be scared of you." He looks at you slowly and you smile, he breaths a sigh of relief and smiles in return.
He laughs and relaxes completely, his arm wrapping around your waist. "Darling, I have loved you from the first time we spoke," he tells you. "You mean everything to mean."
You reach up and kiss him, his hands move down your back to hold you flush against his body. You look up, still pressed together and say, "I love you too. Thank you for keeping me safe from him."
You rest your head on his shoulder and he kisses the top of your head. "I promise, I will always protect you, you just need to tell me what is bothering you," he swears.
You smile when you look into his eyes and see how much he means it. He leans down to kiss you again and between breaths he whispers, "Mine."
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wcbblife · 16 hours
Text
Steps and Swishes
a/n: promise the next part will probably have more of the professional dancing lol
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: none!
***
In moments like these, you can't help but appreciate your body's resilience, its unwavering stamina that carries you through the literal marathon of your day. But as you navigate this relentless sprint, you find yourself hoping there's still some fuel left in your tank when you reach the audition.
Waking up late was never part of the plan, especially not on a day when a crucial audition awaits. "Crap!" you mutter under your breath as you hastily exit your dorm room, clutching a piece of bread in one hand and your phone in the other. Each step is a stride toward salvaging what's left of your punctuality.
For the most part, things seem to be going smoothly as you dash towards the building. Until it’s not.
You wrench open the glass door of the lobby and dash into the elevator, heart pounding with each passing floor. Finally, as the doors slide open, you burst forth into a labyrinth of corridors, your destination painfully close. Or so you think.
Just when you believe the worst is behind you, you turn a corner and collide with an unexpected obstacle: a cascade of blonde hair and scalding coffee.
“Fuck!” The word rips from your lips as you stagger backward, the searing liquid seeping through your clothes. With trembling hands, you peel the wet fabric from your skin, eyes fixed on the ruinous stain spreading across your once pristine white shirt.
“Holy shit,” the figure mumbles, “I didn't mean that at all. Are you ok?”
A hand reaches out hesitantly towards your shirt, then freezes awkwardly in mid-air. It's the final straw.
Your gaze shoots up to meet the woman in front of you, ready to unleash a torrent of curses, but all words die on your tongue as you're confronted with wide, concerned eyes. Eyes that you know all too well, belonging to none other than Paige Bueckers.
Going to the same school as Paige Bueckers had never really stood out to you until today.
"I'm so sorry," Paige says, glancing down at your shirt, her hand still suspended awkwardly between you. Silence hangs heavy in the air. "I… I'll buy you a new one, I swear. Let me make it up to you."
In that moment, you realize that even if she were to buy you ten or twenty shirts, it wouldn't change the fact that you're about to miss your audition if you don't hurry. The inconvenience of the situation dawns on you in full force.
You let out an exasperated sigh, your gaze flicking from your stained shirt to Paige and back again. Then, once more, your eyes travel from her to your shirt. You can't help but notice how effortlessly chic and pristine her shirt appears compared to your own.
“Take off your shirt,” you deadpan without much consideration.
Paige's eyes widen further, resembling a deer caught in headlights. “W-what?” she stammers, inching away slowly.
You, however, couldn't care less if she looked at you as crazy. “You said you wanted to make it up to me?” you ask, raising an eyebrow before gesturing towards the bathroom behind her. “I have an audition in five minutes, and unless I want to blow my shot, I need to look presentable.”
The blonde hesitates, her gaze shifting between your outstretched fingers and the bathroom door. Then, with a slow turn of her head, you can almost hear the gears in her mind grinding to a halt. “And how does me taking off my shirt help you?”
“Just get in there and swap shirts with me,” you grumble, shooting her a soft glare. “It'll be quick. Once I'm done, you can have it back. Deal?” You silently pray she doesn't call the cops given how stupid and crazy you must sound, but the desperation in your eyes seems to sway her as she hesitantly nods.
“Alright, fine.” she sighs, walking towards the bathroom.
***
For the most part, the audition went relatively smoothly. Well, except for the fact that you received a barrage of odd looks for bursting in looking disheveled, with the invasive aroma of coffee clinging to you like a second skin. You could swear they caught whiffs of it every time you executed a dance move. But on the bright side, Paige's shirt did align nicely with the hip-hop theme they wanted, so hooray for small victories, you suppose.
Exiting the room, your shoulders sag immediately. Scanning the area for a familiar blonde, you finally spot Paige and make your way over, tapping her shoulder gently.
Startled, she quickly turns off her phone, giving you her full attention. “How'd it go?”
You shrug, not feeling up to sugarcoating it. “It was alright, I guess.”
Paige's expression deflates. “Gosh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mess up your audition.”
“Nah, don't worry about it,” you try to brush it off, though your voice betrays a hint of frustration. “If I hadn't been such a klutz and actually woke up on time, I wouldn't have been in such a rush, and none of this would've happened.”
A brief silence lingers between you two before Paige breaks it. “Hey, let's make a deal,” she proposes, suddenly piquing your interest. “You can hang onto the shirt for now. I'll take this one,” she taps the stained area with her palm, “wash it, and give it back to you later.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Really? I'm totally fine with changing again. Why would you even let me take your shirt home—”
“Just…” she interrupts, sounding almost exasperated, “It's just a way for you to trust that I won't flake out and keep your shirt or something,” she mumbles, scratching the back of her neck nervously. “If you have my shirt, the only way I could get it back is by washing yours and swapping. I know it sounds silly.”
You chuckle. “Maybe just a little.”
Paige smiles, briefly averting her gaze before meeting your eyes again. “Just… let me clean it. I already feel bad enough.”
With a resigned sigh, you give in to her plea. “Fine, give me your number.”
Paige retrieves her phone with surprising speed, a wide grin spreading across her face. She clears her throat, opening her phone and displaying the number pad. “Are you usually around campus? You look like a student.”
After entering your number, you call yourself and retrieve your own phone as it starts to ring. “Yeah… I'm just looking for a part-time gig for now. Nothing too demanding.”
The blonde's interest is piqued. “So, what was the audition for?”
“Just some dancing,” you murmur, half-expecting her to burst into laughter like some others might. But instead, her reaction is one of genuine shock.
“That's awesome! KK would love you,” Paige jokes, and you audibly release a deep breath, grateful that there's no mockery in sight.
“I'm… flattered. Though I'm afraid she might work me to the bone with TikTok dances.”
Paige erupts into laughter, bending over in amusement before regaining her composure. “She might, but she means no harm, I promise,” she says, her expression turning more earnest. “You might have to swing by and show us some moves.”
“Hmm, I might just have to do that,” you reply with a smile.
Paige rubs her hands together awkwardly. “Well, I'll let you go. I don't want to hold you back any longer. I'll definitely text you.”
You nod, “I'll look forward to a white shirt”
She smiles before excusing herself. As you go about your way, you can't help but glance back, only to find the blonde has beaten you to it, snapping her eyes away from you in an instant.
***
The next morning breezes by in a blur. You manage your early classes and decide to take the afternoon off, indulging in a leisurely lounge session that rivals the pace of a sloth. Despite knowing you should probably get moving, the mere thought of tackling errands or practicing feels like an insurmountable task.
You flop onto your back on the carpeted floor, idly gazing at the ceiling until the tranquil silence is abruptly shattered by the muffled buzzing of your phone. With a lazy stretch, you reach for your phone, glancing at the notification.
One text message.
Sitting up, you unlock your phone.
‘Hey! It's Paige. You know, the girl who spilled coffee on you? Yeah, you probably remember that. Anyway… I cleaned your shirt, and I promise it's good as new. Do you want me to swing by your place or are you cool with coming over here?’
Your fingers move instinctively, typing a response before you even fully process it. After all, if THE Paige Bueckers was extending an invitation to her place, who were you to refuse?
‘I don't mind coming over there.’
Three bubbles appear in the corner of the screen.
‘Great! My room is 12C. Just drop by whenever you want.’
‘Alright, I'll be over in a few minutes.’
‘Perfect, I'll be waiting for you.’
You toss your phone aside, feeling an unexpected surge of energy coursing through you. Where it comes from, you're not entirely sure, but you're certainly not going to question it. Not when it propels you onto your feet in a heartbeat.
Without pausing to overthink, you head for a quick shower, ensuring you look somewhat presentable before getting dressed. There's a pitifully evident spring in your step as you make your way to her room, clutching her freshly washed shirt against your body.
However, all semblance of confidence evaporates upon coming face to face with the blue door, 12C stamped at the top. One. Two. Three seconds pass, and you find yourself rooted in place, your arm trembling slightly before dropping back down.
“Shit…” you mutter, suddenly feeling more self-conscious. But you gather your resolve and decide to just go for it.
Almost instantly, you hear shuffling from behind the door, accompanied by distant thuds before it creaks open. Two brown eyes peer out, catching you off guard. You barely have time to process before she gasps, almost comically.
“Oh my god, you're the coffee girl, aren't you?” The girl, whom you now recognize as KK, swings the door open wider, smiling like a child.
“Um… yeah, that's me,” you reply, scratching the back of your neck and holding up Paige's shirt. “I'm just here for a simple exchange.”
“Girl, come on in,” KK drawls, gesturing for you to enter. “She's down the hall to the left.”
“Thanks,” you chuckle.
It's pretty wild how much they're trusting you, but at this point, does it even matter?
You make your way down to what you presume is Paige’s room, rapping lightly on the door.
Paige answers swiftly, her attention seemingly elsewhere. “Kk, I swear to go—” Her gaze lands on you, and her eyes widen abruptly, words faltering. “Oh, my bad. Thought you were that airhead.”
“Hey!” Kk's voice rings out from the other side of the dorm, prompting a giggle from you.
“Come in, come in. I didn’t realize you were here already,” Paige says, opening her door fully. She strides over to her bed, where a neatly folded white shirt rests on top.
“I like your cologne,” you blurt out before even thinking, immediately regretting your lack of filter. You scramble for an excuse as Paige turns to you, her expression unreadable. “I-I mean, your shirt… I'm assuming it was your cologne. It smelled nice.”
She smiles. “Really? I’m trying something new. Must've smelled better than the coffee, huh?”
You step closer to her, the distance between you diminishing. “Anything would be better than that, to be honest. Imagine dancing while drenched in coffee.”
Paige winces, stepping nearer to you. She extends your shirt towards you. “Yeah, sorry about that again. But don't worry, I made sure it was all gone.”
Taking a moment to really take her in, you absorb every detail you may have missed in your earlier rushed encounter. The way her eyes sparkle, the curve of her smile, the subtle flex of her arms. It's almost overwhelming for your heart to handle.
“Here. I washed yours too.”
“Aww, you didn't have to,” she reply with a cheeky grin. “Now I owe you again.”
“I'm always up for some food,” you shrug, though you don't really mean it. “A broke college student will take what they can get.”
“Deal,” Paige says, her tone shifting slightly more serious. “We could even go now if you want.”
“Wow, didn't expect you to actually say yes. I mean, aren't you like… a celebrity or something around here?” you comment, feeling a mix of surprise and flattery.
Paige shrugs, a smirk playing on her lips. “What, are you worried they'll mistake us for a couple or something?”
“W-what? No…” you stutter, feeling your cheeks flush at the mere suggestion.
“I'm just messing,” she says, turning her head expectantly, her gaze soft yet playful.
It seems to effortlessly dismantle whatever defenses you had put up. “Fine,” you relent, smiling as Paige's face instantly lights up.
“Sweet. Hold on, let me grab my stuff,” she says, brushing past you, leaving you standing awkwardly in the middle of her room. You shift on the balls of your feet until…
“Psst!” Your head snaps towards the doorway as KK looks positively gleeful, biting her finger to stifle a laugh. “You're still gonna dance with me, right? Don't go flaking out.”
“Of course I am. And I’m going to beat you with all those TikTok dances,” you retort, a playful spark between the two of you.
KK gasps dramatically, clutching her shirt. “As if!”
“Alright, KK,” Paige interjects, returning from wherever she went, patting KK on the shoulder with a tad too much strength, causing the smaller guard to wince. “That’s enough.”
You catch the shift in Paige's tone, and she shrugs softly once she notices your gaze on her. “Let’s go?”
You nod and follow closely behind, but not before whispering a quick, “It's still on,” to KK, chuckling as her mouth hangs open in silent protest.
121 notes · View notes
j4ygyu · 23 hours
Text
confessing to his mute crush | pjs
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pairing: jay x deaf!reader
genre: complete fluff
summary: jay and deaf reader both seem to like each other, just when he thinks that his confession was a pure failer the reader does something surprising.
“i. hope. i. am. not. late”  jay signed and chuckled as he fixed his cross body bag standing nervously infront of you which got out of place while he was running to the stop you had asked him to be at.
you smile at him, knowing he recently had learned sign language just to be able to communicate with you and so he was, a little slow and not so clear. 
you loved cycling alot, and bought this brand new bicycle and you had asked him if he wanted to spend a day out riding it and then go off to the beach and sit there. 
jay and you met through the same animal care shelter you guys volunteered to work at, his charming smile immediately caught your attention. however it was hard to communicate with your muteness, you only knowing sign language and him knowing none of it.
however within a span of few months, jay started learning it to be able to communicate with you. 
it made your heart flutter, i mean it’s the effort and dedication. still you asked yourself ‘does he even like me back?’
“is. this. the. new. cycle. that. you. bought?”he asked as you nodded and got off it, you touched the cute basket decorated with a small miffy teddy and a pink bow, it also had the dirty wrapper of chocolate you ate earlier. 
embarrassed, you took it out and threw it somewhere on the ground.
“i decorated it” you signed as he looked at you and smiled, making you blush as you looked away, anywhere but his eyes. 
“예쁘다” he said, even though you obviously didn’t hear him you read his lips quickly anyways. signing a quick thank you you sit back on your cycle and signal him to sit. 
he sits behind you hands on your shoulder as you begin to hit the pedal and ride around the city. 
some moments later you feel jay’s hand shifting from your shoulder to your waist now that you’re cycling in a well pace. 
the wind blows on your face blowing your hair back at his face too, you hit the break for a moment and turn around and give him an apologetic look. 
he smiles at you taking your hair and putting them to one side of your shoulder and keeping his chin on the other, staring at you the entire time he does so.
you squirm and try to get used to the feeling of his charp chin on your shoulder as it’s digging through. 
you shove the feeling off as you start riding again, this moment was really perfect for you, everything was so good. a nice cloudy, windy weather with your favorite person  friend hugging you by the waist and face on your shoulder, what a dream really.
you guys rode the cycle around the city, stopping by a store to get ice cream, as you parked your cycle near the store you guys stood on the footpath and he bought some ice cream.
you looked at him to see if he finished his and you caught him staring at you, he pretended to look around and controlled his cheeky smile but then something else caught your attention wired headphones connected to his phone in his pocket.
you grab them and gain his attention as he looks back at you “you like music?” he nodded and took his phone put of the pocket searching for something. 
curiously, you stared as you got closer to see his screen “this. is. my. favorite. song” he signed enthusiastically as you widen your eyes giving him a cheering gesture.
you stopped as you looked at him “i wish i could listen to it.. it must be nice” silence filled the space between both of you as you stared deep into you while smiling “it is.”both of you finished the ice cream before it melted.
after cycling and strolling around the pretty city here you were sitting on the rocks of the beach as the wind blew every once in a while.
jay had this thing forever in his mind, he loved you he loved you so damn much. everything you did got him screaming internally to wife him up.
“it’s fun being with you, you know?” you signed as jay felt his heart racing a million times in a second what could she mean by that? she probably meant as a friend right? or am i letting my stupid thoughts take over. 
“thank. you.” he says as you close your eyes and give him the widest smile. 
being with him made you feel full, it made you feel like finally you had a friend. but you quickly fell in love with him because of his mannerisms.
even though at school no one really bullied you, but there wasn’t something big for someone to  findi you interesting. emptiness fill inside of you, as for others you were just there, not enough things to be interesting for someone. or atleast for the people around you. jay knew these very well that’s why he hated the fact he fell in love with you so fast and was worried that you might reject him because of how fast everything would happen.
but little did he know that your feelings were pretty.. mutual you can say.
there was a wooden stick in your hand with which you were doodling on the beach sand with, jay was observing each and every move.
with that lavender sundress you were wearing it made everything 10 times cuter in his eyes. the way the wind slightly blew back your hair but you kept on fixing it.
you started moving the stick and you wrote your name’s inital with did adding a unfilled heart after it and looked at jay “want to try?” you ask bringing the stick closer to him as he accepts it. 
he looks at you for a second passing you a lovestruck look. 
J +
he writes before your names inital as you shoot him a confusing look with a nervous smile. 
he looks at you as his smile drops, emotions very visible in his eyes. 
=
he adds an equals to sign between your inital and the unfilled heart, following with filling the unfill heart that you drew. 
your smile drops as you stare back at him, completely in shock and he stares back with a regretful look in his eyes. 
you watch him take a big breath after looking at your reaction, not quite promising is it.
“i. like. you.” you sit there, puzzled. you don’t know whether to do something or cry, the moment feels unreal. 
it all felt so quick that you didn’t realise you haven’t responded to him yet for about past five minutes atleast. 
his hopeful looks now dies as he apologizes and stands up, “i am sorry, i am sorry, sorry i should leave i should probably leave.” he says as you try to read his lips “sorry…. should leave” you could pick up some of the words not many because of how rapid and low his mouth worked. 
you watch him stand up quickly wearing his bag not even sparing another glance at you as he starts walking away.
you felt your cheeks getting warm as everythinf starts getting blurry due to the upcoming tears.
you shake and get up dropping your own bag on the floor. 
“stay” 
did i say it right? you swore you heard the vibrations in your body of your own voice. not fully hearing what you said or if you said it right or no. 
breathing heavily, jay stops in his tracks as he turns around and stares at you in disbelief as you break down. right on that spot you were standing at. 
the word wasn’t clear and mix of broken and light cracks of course, a very weak one because of the vocal chords.
you felt bad for making him wait for so long or making his excitement go away for taking your no response as rejection.
you were just shocked, he actually liked you back? your entire life you felt so neglected and behind just because you were deaf, but now some thing good is finally.. happening?
now standing in a distance both of you staring at each other as he watches uncontrollable tears flow down your face as you sign a ‘i like you too.” while lowering your head and start sobbing. 
jay runs back to you and closes the distance, both of you hug like losers. 
because of the closeness you can feel his body vibrations and shivering, as you realise that he is crying you push him back to see his eyes now your eyes widened “why are you crying silly i should be the one crying..”
he just shrugs while trying to give you a smile and crying.
you bring your hands to wipe his tears off as you hold his face. his hands naturally rest on your waist. 
for a short moment you guys look deep into each other’s eyes as you lean in signaling for a kiss.
you felt him giggling like a teenage boy as he leaned in and pressed his soft lips to yours. 
he could taste the strawberry ice cream you ate earlier on your lips, your scent filling his nostrils and working as a hypnosis.
you pull away taking a long breath, “wasn’t it too long for a first kiss?” you sign while wiping away your own tears now and laughing.
once again complete silence fills the beach as the only thing playing if only you could hear, was the sound of the waves. both of you completely lost in each other’s eyes, it was like your eyes are speaking it all for you. 
but you noticed it, you noticed he was holding back a reply so you hit his chest “say it. say what you want to say.”
he broke the eye contact looking away at the sea, the waves coming and hitting the shore as his stupid smile came back on his face. 
he looked back at you and fixed your hair, brought his hands back to himself and signed at you. 
“i. could. kiss. you. for. an. eternity.”
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mindmelter · 2 days
Text
The Janitor: Fernandez's body
I work as a Janitor at a gym, but that's not my real job, I just use the job as a Janitor to get easier acess to the prime meat, and by prime meat, I mean hot muscular men. There's no better place to harvest them than at the gym's locker room.
It's been a while since I've found a perfect specimen like Fernandez. He's tall, broad-shouldered, and he has a nice package.
I've been watching Fernandez for a while now. He's always here, every day at the same time. I've studied his habits, his working out routine. I know when he showers, when he changes. And today, I've decided it would be the day I turn him into my next wearable bodysuit.
I watched him walk to the locker room, his body covered in sweat. I followed him and as soon as I entered, I saw him taking his clothes off, he was ready to take a shower. I smirked and quickly put a sign outside the door, written "Do not enter: Men's locker room closed for cleaning"
I took a small technological gun device out of my cart and pointed it at Fernandez. However, I soon realized that I had forgotten to reconfigure the device since the last time I used it. Before I could fix it, Fernandez noticed me.
"Hey, what the fuck are you doing?" He shouted, walking towards me, and before I could activate the device, he quickly punching me in the face, making the device fall off my hand. He continued kicking me and calling me names. But I managed to reach for the device and pulled the trigger, this time hitting him with an orange glowing ray, making the man fall to the floor and start to deflate the second he was hit.
I was a little angry at him for the bruises, so I stomped on his face and abs to empty him faster. As the process finished, I took a step back, admiring my handiwork. Fernandez's body has been reduced to a sleek, form-fitting bodysuit, his every curve and muscle preserved. I couldn't help but feel a surge of power and desire course through me as I reached out and touched the bodysuit, running my fingers over the defined abs pecs for the first time.
That's when I noticed a tiny orange slime crawling out of his mouth.
I smirked and grabbed the tiny goop between my fingers, if you looked closely you would see it moved very slowly like a slug. I usually flush them down the toilet, but I would need this one, so I put it on the floor as I knew it wouldn't go anywhere. I then grabbed the deflated skin from the floor and walked inside a shower stall — Just for precaution.
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After I took off my uniform, I grabbed the empty muscle husk by the head and admired his body, specially his big package that even without anything stuffing it inside it was still huge.
With a satisfied grin, I slip the bodysuit on, for last, when I put his head over mine, I looked in the mirror. But it didn't looked natural, I just wasn't as fit as Fernandez, I didn't had big muscles to fill his skin. Some parts looked too stretched like my belly and face, and my dick only stuffed half of his huge shaft.
But this could be fixed. I grabbed the device, changed the settings and shoot the ray at myself — This time a blue glowing ray fired from the device.
I felt a tingling sensation as I watched in the mirror my big belly starting to disappear and instead form abs and big pecs. The skin that was once stretched, now started to grow muscles to the sizes that they were originally. I was looking just like when Fernandez entered the showers.
I changed the settings of the gun one last time and pointed it at the tiny goop on the floor. Once I fired the blue ray at it, the goo started to grow and started to shape itself into a human body: My original body.
It looked exactly like me. And it just kept standing there, looking at me with a blank face.
"Put on the janitor's uniform and clean the locker room, then go home and stay inactive until the next day, when you will return to work." I commanded.
"Yes Master" My copy responded with a blank face expression, it was actually the essence of the real Fernandez, only now he was turned into a mindless slave goo that could take any form that I wanted. He would cover as me while I was out having fun in Fernandez's body.
"But before, I want you to turn into a red underwear"
"Yes Master" The 'janitor' said and started to shrink and change its color, until it was nothing more than a red underwear on the floor. I grabbed it and put it on. It looked really good on me, so with Fernandez's phone I took a photo in the mirror.
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I decided to put his sweaty gym clothes back on and return to the main gym. It was really hot to work out my new muscles while wearing the real Fernandez.
118 notes · View notes
ackermai07 · 20 hours
Note
hi there !! i hope you're having a great day so far ^^
i wanted to request the three musketeers (katsuki, izuku, shoto) that give prince/ss treatment to reader ! like the reader is just so tooth-rotting sweet that the boys can't help but treat reader that way ฅʕ◍·̀·́◍ʔฅ
you are so free to ignore this if its not up to your taste ^^ thank you in advance !! 💌🍰
girl you're crazy if you think this isn't up to my taste, you literally blessed me with this! Anyways I hope you have fun reading, enjoy!
𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: Todoroki, Bakugou, Midoriya, fem!reader
𝗪𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: headcanon, fluff!
Don't repost!
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The one thing we all agree on.
He'll cook for you.
No one argues with this; he's literally your personal chef.
He'll always make sure you eat well, whether you're a big eater or not.
This damn guy will literally stuff your stomach and cook for you anytime.
You can wake him up even at 2 a.m., and he won't mind, like:
"Hey, Katsu... I'm feeling kinda hungry... so-"
"Shut up, I already know."
And boom, he'll get up to cook a delicious meal for you and make sure you go to sleep feeling full.
He also loves styling your hair, no matter the type.
Straight, wavy, curly, it doesn't matter.
Just tell him how you want your hair, and he'll do it professionally.
He does most of the chores for you, like cooking, washing dishes, doing laundry, etc.
He absolutely hates seeing you tired or exhausted; he sees himself strong enough to do everything.
"You weren't created for exhaustion, not even your beautiful ass deserves to be tired from sitting."
Another reason he always holds you in his arms when you're alone together.
He always brings snacks for you at school.
At the end of each class, he turns around to give you candy or chocolate to keep you energized.
(He completely refuses to admit he brought them for you, always saying he got them by chance.)
When you're sitting in the dorm with others, he lets you rest your head on his shoulder if you're tired.
He absolutely doesn't let you go downstairs; he always carries you bridal style while going down while you're in his arms.
His excuse is that you're too foolish and will definitely trip and fall and hurt yourself.
(He loves you dearly and worries about you like crazy.)
Did I mention he's your guard dog?
Wherever you are, he walks behind you and gives death glares to anyone who dares to stare at you.
He also makes sure every day that he's the first person to say good morning or goodnight to you, whether in person or through messages.
He's not a big person with words, but he makes sure to say "I love you" enough times because he knows it makes you happy.
Believe me, he's just there for your happiness (I would die for this man).
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This boy is the epitome of sweetness.
He's not just a green flag, he's the whole forest.
One thing I'm sure of is that he'll take notes for you during classes.
Even if you've already taken your own notes, he doesn't mind.
He still brings your notebooks and edits your notes to make them look like his own.
If you ask him why he does this, he simply replies:
"Just to ensure our information is the same so we don't have any problems when we study together."
He just loves being the reason behind your intellectual growth and knowing that he's helping you.
Every night, literally every night, he braids your hair.
Because he simply read that braiding hair before bed helps keep it healthy.
(He loves touching your hair and smelling its scent.)
Speaking of nighttime, he takes you for walks at night when everyone else is asleep and lies on the grass to watch the sky just because you told him you love seeing the stars.
He's literally the kind of gentleman who lays his jacket over a puddle of water for you to walk on so you don't get wet.
He has a sixth sense about you, so for example, whenever something bad happens to you, he's already there to fix it.
He's 100% ready to defend you against anyone and doesn't feel embarrassed to stand up to them either.
He carries your bag for you on the way to school and back to the dorm, insisting on it even when you say it's okay.
He loves sharing his food with you; he always does.
No matter what it is, he always makes sure you take at least a bite of it.
"I don't taste the food's flavor until I share it with you."
He always keeps your hands intertwined and makes sure you're close to him, especially in crowds.
Every day, he makes sure to kiss you on the cheek and tell you how perfect you are, how lucky he is to have you, and how much he loves you.
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This guy is literally like a character from books.
He has a top-notch degree in princess treatment.
He buys you anything you want, no matter what.
Even if it's a car plated with gold, he'll always fulfill your desires.
He flirts with you, but in poetic ways.
For example, he reads a love quote or a poem and makes sure to dedicate it to you.
Either he writes it for you on a paper and places it on your desk in your room before you wake up, or he whispers it in your ear just to drive you crazy.
He loves seeing you shy and flustered.
He also buys you books, a lot of them.
The reason for that is your talk about a story or a novel.
Be sure that by tomorrow he'll present you with the entire book series along with a red rose.
"Shoto! You didn't have to do that!"
"If my girl desires something, she gets it."
(Help me... I'm melting while writing this)
He lets you do anything to him literally.
Braiding his hair, putting makeup on him, dressing him up as you wish... etc.
Just say the word, and he's like, "Yes, ma'am"
(Once you put your daily makeup on him, and literally you cried because he looked more beautiful than you by miles.)
This man is literally carrying your bags when he takes you shopping.
And he doesn't complain; it gives him a sense that he's your strong man.
He also allows you to try makeup on the back of his hand.
(He's as pale as hell.)
He carries you on his back if you feel tired from walking.
Or in other words, if he feels it, which means he always carries you on his back.
So you won't tire from something as silly as walking.
He knows that everyone is looking at both of you, but does he care? Of course not.
(I feel like he's read "The Art of Indifference" at least 100 times.)
He's the kind of guy who allows you to wear anything you want.
You might come to him not sure about your clothes, and he simply shrugs in indifference.
"Wear whatever you want; I can fight."
(But not too revealing because you won't get away with it.)
One of his greatest features is that he uses his quirk to either warm you up or cool you down according to the weather.
He always gives you his jacket even without you asking because he knows that his scent calms you down and also ensures that you're warm.
Like the others, he makes sure you eat well and goes crazy if he knows you haven't.
(I think this is an Asian thing...)
This might seem gross, but on the contrary, it's not the case for him, but he allows you to spit out the food you didn't like on his hand.
He tells you to do it in the most poetic expression ever.
He hugs you a lot, first because he loves being close to you and secondly to stick his scent to you, so people can smell you and know that you're his
(he has a special scent so..)
(I've written a lot for him, I know, and I'm sorry, but I love him so much that I couldn't stop!!)
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I hope you had fun reading! Please feel free to request more whenever you like!
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝.
104 notes · View notes
nattblacklupin · 21 hours
Text
Sleepless nights
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Pairing: High lord! Eris x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Nothing much, maybe a little bit suggestive towards the end
Summary: High lord of the autumn court helps you sleep
Masterlist
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After the war, nightmares plagued your sleep every night. You can't remember the last time you slept the whole night, always waking up because of the terrors that followed you every time you dared to close your eyes. No sleep tonic is helping you. Not even your high lord powers could protect you. Leaving you desperate and hopeless for anything that can help you.
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Madja recommended taking your mind off by busying yourself with work, so you don't have the time to think about anything else. That's why you're currently sitting on bed in autumn court, your room not far away from the high lords. As an administrative of night court, you travelled there to strengthen the relationship between the two courts. The sudden death of Beron forced Eris to take his place sooner than expected. Lucily, it wasn't drastic for the plans of your court.
It's not like you cared about them that much, but you sweared to be loyal, and you will be loyal to your court till the day of your death.
After half an hour of restless tossing, you decided to go on a walk around the house. Not expecting to meet someone at such an hour, you threw a light silk robe over your shoulders. Quietly slipping away from your room, you mindlessly started walking - letting your body guide you away from the room.
"Still awake, princess?" You swiftly turned started that someone was awake now. Focusing on the person your shoulders visibly releaxed and you let out signt you didn't even know you were holding in. "You scared me, Eris," coming closer to him, you couldn't help but admire his beauty. He had a strong and sharp jaw, which made you wonder if it would cut you when caressing it. His eyes burned with fire that burned brightly even after surviving things that you could never imagine. "I'm sorry if I woke you up." He probably was tired after a long day of duties, and you woke him up. Feeling guilty you averted your eyes from him.
"It's quite alright, I wasn't sleeping anyway," daring to look into his eyes to examine him even further. You could see the dark purple circles under his eyes. "You're not the only one who struggles, don't worry," his hand fixed stray strand of your hair that escaped the braid you put it in. It felt so natural, and you couldn't help but melt into his touch, never feeling more comfortable than right now. "You can sleep in my bed if you would like to." Pointing with his chin in the direction of his bedroom.
You wanted to refuse him. Sleeping with him in the same bed was highly inappropriate. This is still a work trip, and you don't think Rhysand would be happy if he knew about it. But Eris warm was attracting you like moth to light, it wrapped around you in cosy warm cocoon. "Only if you don't mind my snoring," Eris laughed at your joke. "I won't mind your snoring, only if you don't mind me stealing your blanket." Opening door to his room and guiding you inside with his hand on your lower back.
You quickly lay in his bed with blanket to your chin, hoping that the dark will shield your reddened cheeks from his burning gaze. Having a crush on the male for years now didn't help your situation in a bit. Your cheeks are getting red the longer you are in his room, in his bed thinking about his strong frame that will lay next to you. What if he wraps his arms around you? What if he's feeling the same as you, and this is his flirting strategy?
Eris laid next to you, laying on his side facing you, looking deeply into your eyes. "You're beautiful." If you weren't focused just on him, you wouldn't probably even hear it. But you're glad you did, finally mustering enough courage to do the thing you been thinking of for such a long time now. You gently cupped his cheek in your hand, looking deeply in his eyes. You kissed him. Your chest explodes with feeling you never felt before making you feel everything yet nothing at the same time.
"Took you long enough, princess"
Unhurriedly parting your lips from him, you gasped for air. "Y-you're my mate," realisation making you push Eris on his back and straddle his lap. His hands took hold of your waist, caressing you softly. One of his hands moved to the back of your head, pushing you closer to him. Kissing you with more intensity than you ever been kissed before.
Eris kissed you like there is no tomorrow, not letting you go until you were gasping for air, wishing for more. You parted from him, looking deeply into his eyes. The high lord under you just smirked while playing with your hair.
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Country Club
student (adult aged) Minho x older fem!reader (she can be however old you want)
This had turned into a few random scenarios. MDNI // SMUT ⚠️‼️
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
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Minho bites is bottom lip hungrily as his eyes rake over your naked body. The way you are waiting for him like this, naked in your poolside changing hut in nothing but your wide brimmed hat, makes Minho feel smug, and it shows in his amused eyes.
“Spread them for me.” He demands and palms his hardness in his pants.
“Well, where are your manners, young man?” You laugh coldly and cross your legs.
Minho grunts, he doesn’t like to be spoken to like that. Yet his cock twitches and a desperate urge to put you in your place and at the same pleasure you until you make a mess, courses through his veins.
“I said spread them, Noona.”
A moment passes where you just stare at each other defiantly.
“Make me, boy.” You dare him.
Minho scoffs and looks away momentarily before bringing his attention back to you, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.
“Hmm.” He smirks. “This is his how you like to play.” He says approaching you slowly. “Just like the other day when I fucked you into the brick wall.”
He drops to his knees in front of you and looks up at you with lust filled eyes. He hopes you can’t tell that on the inside he’s so incredibly desperate for you. That he’d fucking do anything to be between your legs.
“Noona,” he says softly, endearingly, even. His eyes drop to where his finger traces the thigh that’s crossed over the other leg. He has to be careful, he mustn’t let you know that you have the upper hand, and that his heart is beating a million miles a minute.
He squeezes your thigh, noticing your breath hitch. He smirks to himself and peels your legs apart. You don’t even try to resist, allowing him to press your legs open as far as they’ll go. He sucks a breath between his teeth, and shakes his head. So fucking perfect.
He rubs delicate circles on your inner thighs as he kisses his way up from your knee to where your inner thigh meets your pussy. Your breath quickens the closer he gets to your centre. When he pulls away, he doesn’t miss the tiny whimper you didn’t want him to hear, and sits back to watch his thumb lazily play with your clit.
You’re already quivering as you look down to watch the younger man touch you. He can feel your eyes on him. With one hand still placed on your inner thigh to ensure you stay nice and wide for him, Minho presses two fingers to your tight entrance. It’s already dripping. Fuck, he can’t wait to taste it on his tongue.
His fingers slide in easily, yet with enough resistance that you’re bound to feel the stretch. Exactly what Minho wants. He wants you to feel full of him. Whether that’s full of his fingers, tongue, cock, or filthy little thoughts of him that pop into your head while your having lunch with your girlfriends.
He withdraws his fingers, and with eyes fixed on yours, he pops them into his mouth. Better than he imagined. You taste like heaven. He swallows hard when your eyes start begging him for more.
He kisses your other inner thigh, slowly making his way towards your pussy again. As his mouth finally meets your labia, he closes his eyes and inhales your scent. Sighing, and taking a moment to compose himself, he nuzzles his nose against your clit.
You cry out when his tongue slips out of his mouth and makes contact with your lips, spreading them and dipping slightly into your entrance.
“Stay still, Noona.” Minho mumbles from between your legs. Your taste, smell, the way you feel, it makes his dick throb. The sounds you’re making, because of him, because of what he’s doing to you, are driving him wild. You’re so loud, just like last time. You don’t care who might hear.
He hooks his arms under your thighs, pulling you further to the edge of the bench you’re on, and then folds and pushes them up towards your chest.
Your cunt is on full display for him, and he think he might cum untouched. That wouldn’t be ideal. If he’s going to cum he wants it in one of your holes, not the insides of his boxers.
Minho licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, sucking hard on the sensitive bud, before starting again at your entrance. Over and over, relentlessly lapping at your sweet pussy.
He’s in absolutely no hurry to make you cum. He wants you writhing on his face, begging him to push you over the edge. He wants tears running down your cheeks because you’re needing to come so fucking bad.
Your hand finds the back of his head, your fingers threading through his hair.
“Minho! Fuck… how are you… so…” you roll your hips against his face. “…good at this? … ahh!” You cry as you throw your head back.
You roll your hips faster, harder against his face. You’re whimpering, crying out almost like you’re frustrated.
Good.
Minho wants to break you, own you, tame you, so that the only name on your lips is his. Even when you’re fucking your husband. He doesn’t want you to forget him. Long after whatever this thing is, he needs you to remember him.
“Please… hurry… someone… oh fuck s’good…might…ahhh… find us.”
Minho stops and peels himself away from your dripping cunt.
“Don’t you fucking dare pretend you care about that.” He wipes his chin with the back of his hand. “I know you love the thought of someone hearing us, of someone catching us.” He drags his fingers roughly over your folds.
You shake your head.
“Don’t fucking lie to me.” He pushes two fingers inside you making you whimper. “You’re getting wetter by the second just thinking about one of your rich girlfriends walking in and catching you with my fingers buried in your cunt.”
He fucks your needy little pussy with his fingers, causing loud wet sounds to fill the room. Your eyes roll back in your head and you’re mumbling something Minho can’t quite understand.
“Let me cum!” You finally wail. “Please!” You sob.
The corner of Minho’s mouth curls up. Perfect. You’re so fucking perfect begging for him.
With his fingers still deep inside you, he returns his mouth to your clit. Licking and sucking whilst he angles his fingers to push into your g-spot.
Your legs shake, but Minho is strong, holding your leg open with his free hand. Your hand grips the edge of the bench seat, the other remaining on his head, and you grind your self against his face.
“Make me come, Minho. Make me come all over that pretty face of yours.” You rock your hips harder. “Can you do that? Ahhh!”
Minho doubles down, giving you his absolute everything. He needs you to come on his face. He needs to feel your release. He needs to be the one who makes you lose your fucking mind.
“Oh god… I’m… shit… I’m coming.” You whimper as your whole body tenses up and your walls squeeze around his fingers. Your essence dribbles down his hand.
Eventually, your breath calms and Minho releases his fingers, and sits back on his knees to admire his work.
You look like a fucking mess. Not as fucked up as the first time when you had a grazed cheek and a bleeding neck bite, but still, you look thoroughly pleasured and that pleases Minho.
As he leaves you there naked and quivering in the changing hut, he’s certain you’ll be thinking about him in your bed tonight.
But now he needs to go fix the problem in his pants. He probably could have fucked you just now, but he wants to leave you craving for him. For his cock.
He heads back to the main building of the Country Club, wiping your arousal off his chin as he passes your group of friends.
🎾🎾🎾🎾
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@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @chansbabyg @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @xxkissesforchanniexx @sunshinesquokka @enjaken @queenmea604 @lyramundana @queen-in-the-shadows @bethanysnow @newhope8 @chuuchuu1224
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jelzorz · 1 day
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176.
Soren has a dragon that he's had since he was three.
It's one of the few genuinely happy memories he has from his childhood. Most days he struggles to remember any at all—so much of it was posturing and conflict and useless efforts to win his father's pride. It was not the simplest childhood, certainly not the happiest, but Rexy is still in his quarters, and when Soren looks at him, he thinks of games and laughter and the warmth of his mother's arms against the winter cold.
He's still pretty fond of him, even now. He's dusty and old and beat to shit, his left eye loose, his dye faded, and Soren's not going to pretend he doesn't pull him down sometimes to defend him from invisible armies (a perfectly normal twenty-eight year old thing to do, thank you), but Rexy's definitely seen better days too, and Soren thinks of the twins that are supposed to be arriving any day now and thinks it might be time for a little bit of a makeover before Rexy goes back into the fray.
"That's so sweet," chuckles Callum, as he examines the loose stitching at Rexy's ear. "But I gotta be honest, Soren, I dunno that he's gonna make it even if I do fix him. Kids can be really rough."
Soren doesn't doubt it. Callum and Rayla's little girl is barely eighteen months old and she's a terror to anything in the castle smaller than her. "I still think it's worth trying," he says. "If he goes down, he'll go down in battle, and there's no nobler end for a toy."
"True," snorts Callum. He fiddles Rexy's loose eye and tugs it free. Soren tries not to wince. "You've had him forever though. I know he means a lot to you. Are you sure you wanna let your soon-to-be kids tear him up?"
"Mm." Soren shrugs, a little sentimental, a little heartbroken, but resolute all the same. "I don't really have anything else to pass on," he says quietly. "I've been thinking about it for ages, and I—" He huffs. "I just think that Rexy'll watch over them the same way he watched over me. Does that make sense?"
Callum laughs good naturedly and nudges his arm. "Yeah," he says. "I get it." He glances at Soren from the corner of his eye then, and Soren can feel the way Callum studies him, his mentality, his readiness to be a dad. "Are you okay?"
"Mm," says Soren again. This time he shifts uncomfortably, because the thought is terrifying almost more than it is exciting. "I just want to be a better dad than mine was."
Callum smiles and pats his arm. "You've got nothing to worry about there, bud. You're going to be just fine."
"Big assumption," snorts Soren.
"Call it more of an observation," says Callum. "You've done the work. You're always doing the work. That's half the job right there. The rest is just love. Isn't that right, Rexy?"
He raises Rexy then and pitches his voice up an octave. "Don't worry, Soren, I'll keep you in line."
"Good gods."
"Get used to it, man, funny voices are like ten percent of the job."
Soren swats at him, and Callum dodges it only to almost fall out of his chair. "So you'll fix him?"
"I'll do my best," says Callum with a chuckle. Then, more genuinely, he adds, "You're nothing like your dad, Soren. You're going to be fine. Rexy will make sure of it."
Soren barks out a laugh. "I'm sure he will."
(And he does).
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VH - Turn over
A menacing silhouette stepped into the prison and stared at the hero in silence. Behind the bars, the prisoner raised his shining eyes, looking very frail and helpless.
“Oh no,” he whimpered, twisting his hands. “I’ve done nothing wrong. I beg of you, Villain, I’m-”
The other cut across him, shaking his head:
“You can stop.”
“But-”
“I know who you are. You’re the hero who’s an invincible vampire, aren't you? You don’t have to pretend. I surrender.”
“Ah.”
Hero slowly grinned, showing his pointed teeth, looking a lot less helpless:
“Good.”
Villain nodded slightly and sat on the chair in front of the cell, his eyes fixed on the ground, his hands clasped in front of him. The other tapped on the bars to get his attention:
“I gotta ask, do you imprison every guy who you surrender to?”
“I know this can’t hold you for long-”
“Nope. Absolutely not.”
“-but I wanted to talk.”
Vampire Hero groaned:
“We’re not doing that. If you think I have time for listening to how amazing or blameless you are, I’d rather drink you until you collapse.”
“No, I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
Villain hesitated for a moment, then said, avoiding his gaze:
“When did you realize you were on the bad side?”
“Uh?”
“Before you switched, I mean. When did you realize you were...well, evil?”
Vampire Hero tilted his head, intrigued:
“Since the beginning? I mean, I liked to cut animals and make my whipping boy suffer when I was a toddler. That wasn’t really hard to put two and two together. I'm an asshole, not an idiot.”
“A whipping boy, you mean-”
“A literal whipping boy, yeah. Father offered me one and punished him every time I misbehaved. That was a good birthday gift, a long time ago.”
“So being a vampire hasn’t corrupted your soul or-”
“Nah. Can’t corrupt what’s already rotten.”
“I see.”
There was a moment of silence. Villain didn’t move. Vampire Hero huffed a little, his patience growing thin.
“How can you look so lost in your own prison?”
“It wasn’t like that for me.”
“Oh there we go, the monologue. Keep going, and I’ll rip off the bars of the cell and come for you next.”
“Go ahead, I won’t use it anymore.”
A bar creaked in answer. Villain didn’t look up once.
“I thought my work was for the best,” he said after a while. “I thought us with powers deserved more of society. Don’t you think so?”
“I don’t care.”
“Surely you must have. A little.”
“We’re not from the same time, remember? I had a castle and servants and human toys. Society never bothered me much.”
“It must have been nice, not having to care.”
Vampire Hero shrugged.
“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Didn’t work out that great for me, did it?”
“I had to care. I had to cling to life every day to survive. I was nearly killed by people thinking I was a freak because I had powers.”
“It doesn’t look like they did a great job, then.”
Villain raised his head a little:
“I just wanted a place where we weren't bullied all the time, so I created my own group. As it grew, so did our ambitions-”
“Aw man, that is gonna take a while.”
Sulking, the vampire threw himself on the ground and began to fidget with the bar he had ripped off. While he bent it as easily as it was clay, Villain kept on, barely giving him a glance:
“I thought that no one listened to us, you see? So we had to make people listen.”
“Except that it doesn't make sense. Since when are powers a problem here? I don’t know much about the outside world, but even I know that heroes are adored and stuff. They have fanclubs and everything.”
“But you have to be a hero, that's the problem. If you can teleport and want to be anything else, like a baker or something, you’re shamed by society unless you hide who you are. If you’re born with powers, the hero agencies are already breathing on your neck.”
“I find this expression offensive. Look, I’ve made a noodle!”
Villain glanced at the twirled bar the vampire was playing with:
“Very nice.”
“Thank you. I used to twist any iron bar that I had in my hands. It makes so much more damage when it pops out of the body.”
Villain stared at the wall for a second and cleared his throat:
“...Anyway, we were building a community. I met my first friends and my lover there.”
“Congrats. I don’t care.”
“As with all communities, tensions grew. I wanted to take more action. I thought that protests weren’t enough.”
“Yeah, I’ve read your file. Killed a lot of humans and exploded a lot of stuff. Classic.”
“I wanted to be heard! Our group went from inefficient to dangerous, but where is the limit? Where is the perfect middle spot?”
“No idea.”
“Me neither. My husband tried to bring me back to protests, but I wouldn’t listen to him. We argued until the moment when I- when he-”
Villain turned his head away:
“I tried to keep on, but it doesn’t make sense without him. Our community is riffled with conflicts. None of it makes sense anymore. So I surrender.”
He stood up and pulled out the key of the cell from his pocket. Vampire Hero squinted at him, curious despite himself:
“So, how did you kill your husband?”
Villain looked at him, horrified:
“What? I didn’t! He left me.”
The door opened. Vampire Hero jumped on his feet and burst out of his cell, chirping:
“Let’s go!”
He passed next to Villain and went through the exit, leaving the latter staring at him:
“Are you- Aren’t you going to drink me or something-”
The hero shrugged and patted his arm, a little smile on his face:
“Eh. I’m not hungry.”
*
Vampire Hero is a recurring character. His job is to troll current villains. Check the Vampire Hero Masterlist or Tag for more snippets with him.
Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.
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archiveikemen · 13 hours
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Ellis Twilight Main Story: Chapter 3
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This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.
Warnings and FAQ
Ellis: Bodyguards?
At breakfast, Victor was talking about the unexpected incident that occured during my first job as the “fairytale keeper”.
Victor: That’s right! If Jude and Ellis protect Kate, our secrets will be kept safe too.
Victor: At the same time, Kate will also be able to observe the two of you up close and write everything down in her records…
Victor: It’s like killing two birds with one stone!
Victor: What do you think, Ellis?
Ellis: I’m fine with it if Kate is.
Ellis: Just because no one was hurt yesterday doesn't mean that sort of thing won't happen again… I want to be by Kate's side in case.
Victor smiled in response to Ellis and turned to Jude.
Victor: Of course you'll take this new responsibility seriously, right, Jude? You hate doing favours, don't you?
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Jude: Tch…
(I feel safe being near Ellis, but…)
Ever since having my life threatened because I was with Ellis and being mistaken for “Jude Jazza’s woman”, I couldn't help but feel wary of Jude.
Jude: Don’t you start wailing when you get caught in a scary situation, princess.
(He’s so intimidating… but this was a good suggestion from Victor, so I mustn't chicken out.)
Kate: I’ll be fine. I’m surprisingly tough!
Jude: … Hah.
Jude snorted and went back to reading the newspaper.
Ellis: Then it’s decided. I’m looking forward to working with you, Kate.
Kate: I look forward to working with you too.
Unlike Jude, Ellis returned a soft smile.
Ellis: By the way, you can be more casual with me.
Kate: Huh…?
Ellis: You could say “yeah, me too” or something.
Kate: Y-Yeah… me too.
Ellis: Mm, much better.
I felt comforted by Ellis’ warm vibes.
Victor: Administrative matters aside, now let’s talk about your mission.
I straightened my back and listened attentively to Victor’s words.
(This will be my first real job as the fairytale keeper.)
I bear in mind that this was important in helping me gain their trust.
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Victor: — Truth is, there is something I want you to collect information on.
Victor: It’s regarding the series of kidnapping cases happening all over London.
Kate: Kidnapping…?
That dangerous word brought back the same anxiousness I felt when I met the members of Crown for the first time.
Victor: Correct. The victims’ ages ranged from infants, to adolescents, and even grown adults.
Victor: One thing they have in common is that the adults were either prostitutes or street performers.
Victor: Popular songstresses from taverns have gone missing… many of them lived unstable lives without proper residential addresses.
Jude: Because the victims weren't people of high importance and mostly didn't have fixed addresses, no one reported them missing.
Jude: As usual, the police aren’t going to do anything about it either.
Unfortunately, like Jude mentioned, people who worked in the entertainment district were often looked down upon.
In that world of glitz and glamour, they were treated like pieces of trash in a garbage dump.
Victor: So, about the mission…
Victor: Have you heard about the ongoing art fair in London, the one with a few performers gathered there?
Kate: Yes. The scale of the event is not as big as the social season, but it’s rather crowded.
Victor: I want Jude and Ellis to go to that art fair and collect the necessary information.
Victor: These people may be vagrants, but they’re more bonded than you think.
Jude: Why do I have to go? This is useless.
Victor: Remember the human traffickers you dealt with in private? They might be connected to this case.
Victor: This has gone too far, don’t you think? Besides… today's your first day off in a long time.
That sounded like information Victor wouldn't be aware of, unless someone told him. Jude shot a glare at someone…
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Jude: … Ellis.
Ellis: He asked, so I answered honestly. Sorry.
(The power balance between these two might surprisingly be of equal level…)
Victor: See you!
Victor sent us off with his cheerful voice and we headed for our mission.
(The fair is even more crowded this time round…!)
Colourfully decorated stalls lined the venue of the art fair and delicious aromas wafted through the air.
The people were entertained by not only the food, but also the street artists painting and performers showcasing their talents on stages around the city.
Walking around the fair, I couldn't help feeling immersed in the lively atmosphere.
(Oh no, I’m getting too carried away… I must focus on our mission.)
(Right. I should ask him now.)
Kate: Ellis. Jude. Could you tell me about your curses?
Ellis: We haven't told you yet?
Ellis: I have the curse of the “Briar Bushes”, and Jude has the curse of the “13th Fairy”.
Ellis: They’re based on a motif called “The Thorn Princess (Sleeping Beauty)”.
(Curse of the briar bushes and the curse of a fairy…)
The 13th fairy was an antagonist who placed a deadly curse on the princess out of spite for not being invited to her birthday party.
(I know that's the fairy’s sin, but…)
(What sin did the briar bushes commit?)
As I thought hard about it, Jude suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned around languidly.
Jude: We don’t need a party of three. You go in the other direction to search for information.
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Ellis: What about protecting Kate?
Jude: You’ll be fine doing that alone.
Without another word, Jude disappeared into the sea of people.
Kate: … Does he hate me, by any chance?
Ellis: I don’t think so, he treats everyone like that.
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Ellis: His intention was probably to protect you from danger by avoiding being seen with you.
(Hmm, I don't really think so…)
I swallowed those words that I almost blurted out.
Kate: … If that’s the case, he’s actually rather kind-hearted, isn't he?
Ellis: I wouldn't say that. He loves hearing the people he hates scream in pain.
Kate: …
(It scares me how easy it is to imagine that…)
Ellis was the total opposite of him, showing kindness to everyone he met.
As though to prove me right, people all around us started approaching him the moment Jude left.
Flushed Man: Oh, you over there! Thanks for taking care of me that day!
Ellis: You’re welcome. Remember to drink in moderation today.
Kate: This is…?
Ellis: I found him passed out on the streets the other day, so I piggybacked him home. I don't know his name.
Kate: Eh!?
(You brought a random stranger home and nursed him back to health!?)
That wasn’t the only thing that left me in shock—.
Furniture Artisan: Business has been booming thanks to Ellis promoting my works to people!
Bespectacled Student: I’m so glad to run into you again! Um, I’d like to repay you for helping me fix my bike, could I have your contact information…
Cat: Nyaa.
(Even a CAT thanked him…!?)
(Or should I say, judging from the number of people who thanked him as we passed by…)
I could tell that Ellis did many good deeds on a daily basis.
Kate: I’m a postwoman, and yet you’re even more well-known than I am…!
Ellis: Really? I think this is pretty normal, though.
Ellis smiled gleefully as he watched the people smiling around him.
(Everything Ellis did for me yesterday is without a doubt just a usual thing for him.)
Someone who spreads joy.
Watching Ellis’ interactions with the people in town brought those words to my mind.
(Does someone like him even have any “sins” I can record down…?)
(Rather—)
(Why would someone this kind-hearted work for an assassination organisation or with Jude?)
Despite having personally witnessed his kindness… that question surfaced in my mind.
Ellis: Kate, Kate.
Kate: … Oh, I’m so sorry! I got lost in thought.
I came back to my senses and noticed Ellis peering into my face up close with his head tilted in puzzlement…
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Ellis: Were you thinking about me?
Kate: …!?
Our eyes met at a close distance like a pair of lovers gazing at each other, sending my heart into a frenzy.
(Ellis doesn't seem to be conscious of it, but… this is too close.)
The situation was the same as when he went to see me in my room the morning after I came to Crown’s castle.
It was the second time seeing his twilight coloured eyes up close.
Feeling my cheeks turn red from the embarrassment, I turned my eyes away from him.
Ellis: Ah, hit the nail on the head.
Kate: How did you know?
Ellis: Hmm… just a hunch, I guess?
Ellis handed me a steaming mug with a smile.
Ellis: Here, I bought this milk tea from that shop over there while you were lost in thought about me.
Ellis: This is to thank you for helping me with my mail the other day.
(... Ellis is awesome…)
Ellis’ eyelashes lowered and he lightly blew on the cup of milk tea before taking a sip.
Ellis: If there’s anything you want to ask me, feel free to.
Kate: … Understood.
Ellis: Just “okay” is good.
Kate: … Ellis, why did you join Crown?
Ellis: Victor recruited Jude to join Crown, then Jude said OK and I joined too, I guess?
(You joined just because Jude did…?)
Kate: Why are you always with Jude?
Ellis: You have many questions, huh.
Ellis smiled and held his mug in both hands.
Ellis: My life was a mess before I met Jude. I moved from place to place, never having anywhere to settle down.
Ellis: When I came to London, I met Jude by coincidence.
Ellis: Some stuff happened, and we made a deal.
Kate: A deal…?
Ellis: That I’ll work for Jude, and he’ll comply with my request in return.
Ellis: So… we’ll be sticking together until the time comes when he fulfils his side of the deal.
My next question gave me a feeling that something might happen if I heard the answer, causing a stir in my chest.
Kate: What request did you make…?
Ellis: It's—
Performer with Flashy Hat: What is going on!?
(...!?)
The sudden yelling made me jump in shock and look in its direction.
Behind us, in the back of a temporary stage, a performer was scratching his head in distress.
Performer with Flashy Hat: Two people can’t make it for the performance… this is a DISASTER…!
(Two people… two performers… could it be?)
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Kate: Ellis.
Ellie: … Yeah.
— “The victims of the serial kidnappings were often prostitutes or street performers”.
We exchanged looks and headed towards the distressed performer.
Kate: Um, excuse me.
Flashy Hat: Hm? Oh. My apologies, Miss, but my show has been postponed by another 10 minutes!
Ellis: We heard you saying just now that two people can’t make it to the show…
Flashy Hat: My buddy who is supposed to perform with me has gone missing without a word.
Flashy Hat: Geez, lots of people have been disappearing into thin air lately… it’s starting to get suspicious.
(Multiple people… going missing…)
(If we ask this person more about the disappearances, we might find something.)
Ellis: If it's alright with you, could you please tell us more?
Flashy Hat: Sorry, but I really don't have the time for that right now! Even if I have to do it alone, I must think of what to perform up on stage.
The performer shooed us away… but stopped and looked at us again as though he had just gotten an idea.
Flashy Hat: If you guys help me out with the show, that’ll be a whole other story.
Flashy Hat: Haha! I’m just kidding. Being short-handed is one thing, but it's a strict rule to never allow amateurs on stage.
He shook his head, seemingly to dismiss his suggestion as an impulsive one.
Ellis took a step closer.
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Ellis: Help? What kind?
Flashy Hat: Haha! You’re serious about this? I was merely joking.
Ellis: But you said that you’ll tell us the details if we help you, didn't you?
Flashy Hat: … What? Hey man, you guys got a problem or something?
His friendly face twisted.
Flashy Hat: Giving out information about my buddies puts them in danger.
Flashy Hat: I can’t guarantee that you two don't have ill intentions. We're strangers that just met.
Kate: How can we earn your trust?
Flashy Hat: Let me think…
Flashy Hat: If you guys are willing to be used as a target for knife throwing, or tied up and thrown into a tank…
Flashy Hat: I’ll trust you.
(Target for knife throwing…!?)
Ellis: Okay. I’m good at that stuff.
Ellis unhesitatingly proceeded with the negotiations while I stood there, baffled.
(Ellis is so confident when it comes to negotiations. It must’ve come from his experience in working with Jude…)
Ellis agreed to help the performer with the show, but negotiations didn't go as we expected.
Flashy Hat: Tch tch tch… you alone isn’t going to be enough. That lady has to help out too.
Kate: Wha…!?
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Ellis: … Why?
Flashy Hat: Perform, of course!
Flashy Hat: Just think of it. A tragic story about lovers being torn apart, building up and coming to a tear-jerking finale! The audience will definitely love it.
(... Knife throwing… being tied up in a tank…)
Ellis looked at me worriedly when he noticed my face turning pale.
Ellis: Kate, you don’t have to do it if you don't want to.
(Victor has done this knife throwing thing before, so Ellis will be fine with that.)
My physical abilities were nowhere nearly as good as Ellis’, and yet…
Whether or not we would get information from that person depended on me.
(I have to trust them and just go for it…)
Kate: V-Very well. I’ll help.
Letter
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jewelryhut · 3 days
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Invincible: Mark Grayson x FEM!reader
Firstly, I want to start by saying this: I had the first part written out perfectly, then Tumblr just suddenly exited out to my home screen. I wasn't able to safe it to drafts on time (cause I honestly didn't know that was gonna happen), so if the first part seemed kinda sloppy, you know why.
"I'm glad to see you're back here, Mark." The nurse greeted and gave her best toothy grin to the older male. The man, who had a bouquet of flowers, respond with a low chuckle. So low, you would assume he hadn't heard her. "Those flowers are for Ms. L/N?"
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"Yeah," He rubbed the back of his neck as a nervous smile appeared on his lips. "These are my apologies for not showing up lately. Hope she doesn't get angry at me."
"I'm sure she won't be angry, Mark. Ms. L/N is kinder than you think. Although it's not my place to speak; you should know how amazing your grandma is, Mark." The man flinched at this. It was like a bullet piercing through his soul; It was something he couldn't dodge. He fixed a fake smile on his face to hide the disturbed one he had.
"I know she's kind. Too kind." With that, he bid the nurse farewell to meet with the patient.
His eyes came across many doors, but soon stopped at one he was most familiar with. His face was calm, but his eyes held fear. No, not because he was afraid of her, but because of the future after he leave her behind. What will life be like then? He groaned. He made sure his shirt was tucked neatly in his pants before walking into the room.
"Mark? Is that you?"
"Yeah. It's me." He quickly responded, making his way to the seat that was next to her bed.
"I'm was starting to think you forgotten about me." The older woman joked, which he laughed at.
"I'll never forget about you, Y/N." He leaned over to give the woman a kiss on the forehead. "I bought you flowers. "
The woman glanced at them, lips widen as she took in the sight of the beautiful plants. "Kee getting me these flowers, Mark and in here would be a garden." She joked, but Mark knew that she appreciated them anyways. "So..."
Mark gave the woman his full attention.
"How's Eve?" Mark knew where this was going and he hated it. He stayed silent, refusing to answer her. "Oh, come on. Has your lady magnet vanished? I would've assumed you'd have many women flocking over you."
"Yeah, Y/N, but—"
"But what? You're not thinking that we're still together, right?" The man stayed silent and Y/N sighed at this. "Look, Mark. I'm sixty-four and your twenty-five. It's not going to work out. You have a whole life ahead of you. Didn't you say you wanted kids? I'm sure it's still possible without me."
"Yeah, but I wanted them with you!" He stood up from his chair in frustration. "It's only because I'm half viltrumite that it's impossible to live a life with the woman I love. Dad was able to love mom, why can't I do so with you." Y/N stayed quiet as she listened to his rant. "I just.. I just..." He sat back down in defeat, placing his head tiredly into his hands. "I just really love you, Y/N. I really do."
The woman's eyes started to form tears at the man's words. "I know, Mark. I know." She then closed her eyes as she continued to speak. "But even so, Mark. You have to move on. Who knows when it'll be my last days on earth."
"Don't say that."
"But it's true."
The room went silent. Beeping noise from the machine was the only thing being heard. Mark's sniffing was just as loud as well. He tried to hold his tears back, but it was impossible. He didn't like the direction life was taking him. He didn't want this. At the moment, he wished he was born without powers, so then he and Y/N could live a life without worry.
"Um.. I'm sorry, Mark—uh, Mr. Grayson. Visiting hours are over. You can come same time tomorrow." The nurse from earlier entered the room, a small frown on her face at the sight before her.
"Yeah," The male only muttered. He stood up from the chair and began making his way out of the room. "I'll see you tomorrow." Y/N nodded in response at this and watched as her once in a lifetime lover left her sight.
———
Although it pained him, Mark decided to take Y/N's advice.
It had been a week since he had visited Y/N and during those days, he had went on a date with Eve, which Y/N was very excited about (he had told her during a phone call). Today, he was planning another date with the red head when he had gotten an unexpected call from the hospital.
"Mark? Hi, it's Annise from Silver's hospital and I called to let you know that—"
"Is Y/N alright? It has been awhile since I've last visited her. I hope she isn't too upset." He laughed, but was met with silence on the other line.
"Well, about that." The nurse was hesitant to continue, but she pulled through. "Ms. L/N has passed away. We really tried our best to—" Before the woman was even able to finish, the door to the hospital was bust open. Her eyes widen at the sudden sight of Mark. "M-Mark!"
"Where is she? Where is she?!"
"We've already placed her in the—"
"Let me see her!"
"Mark, please calm down." The nurse was panicky as she wasn't sure how to handle the male, so she opt to call for security.
"Please. You have to let me see her." Mark slouched his body as he allowed the security to take him away. "Please." Annise watched as the group of men took the pained man away. She felt terrible.
———
Mark, now thirty-five, stood before Y/N's grave with a somber look. Many years had past and if there was a way he could rewind time to prevent this from happening, he would, but sadly he can't.
"Daddy, daddy! Mummy told me to check on you." Mark removed his eyes from the tombstone and onto his daughter.
He smiled. "I'm doing good." He picked up his daughter, Terra, and gave her kiss on the cheek. "I'm just giving a gift to the dead."
"Do you know the dead?"
"Only this one." He answered and the girl stayed silent. Soon enough, Eve made her way to her husband.
"You ready to go?" She question, and yet, she knew the answer to that.
"Just.. Yeah. Let's go." He placed his daughter on the ground and took ahold of her hand, soon leaving the sight of the graveyard.
Placed on the tombstone was a familiar bouquet of flowers that Mark once gave to Y/N.
'You are loved and you will be missed.'
——
Let me know what you think?
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strawbrygashez · 2 days
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Andre hcs bc he’s underrated 🗣
•While he will listen to Cals grunge & borderline emo music and finds himself enjoying it here and there, he loves aggressive music a lot more. Anything u could mosh too really. His favorite genres are industrial metal & nu-metal.
•If he was a little more confident in himself and wasn’t worried about being picked on for yet another thing, he’d dress a lot more metalhead-y if he could. I imagine his style would be a mix between mallgoth, metalhead, and some military aesthetics thrown in there. (I shared a hc that cal was talking about working at hot topic before and this kinda ties into that lol. I think andre really wanted him to get the job so he could have a excuse as to why his wardrobe was getting more alternative. Yknow? Like since Cals working there and he goes to visit him when he can, why not browse around a little?)
•He self harms mostly when he’s angry. He’ll hit himself/his head when frustrated, punches stuff, picks his skin, and burns himself occasionally. He also cuts too but not as much as Cal does. He makes sure his cuts actually look like cat scratches that Mel could have gave him.
•(somewhat not really a hc/basically canon) He has a couple mental disorders but his parents kinda have no idea. He keeps things going on in his head to himself. Even Cal didn’t realize how bad off Andre was until Andre began to really trust him. Seeing that Cal obviously had his own issues (the sh scars) made it a lot easier for Andre to share his problems. As emo/stereotypical as it sounds, he really didn’t think anyone would ever get him in the same way Cal does.
•Andre is just full on GAY. He kept that note that girl gave him ages ago because it just made him feel happy and flattered. When he burns it, he only does so because he feels like he needs to fully rid himself of anyone but Cal. (Bc let’s be honest, there really wasn’t any point of him burning it otherwise? They wanted to get rid of things like CDs, books, and games so the media couldn’t blame what they did on stuff like that. I don’t get how the media could have tied the little love note to what they did.)
•He really thought he’d be a dog person until he met a actual dog as a kid. He didn’t like how hyper the dog was & that it kept jumping on him. That’s why when his parents saw it seemed like Andre was becoming lonely sometime in middle school, they got Mel. He bonded super quickly with her.
That’s not to say he won’t give a dog attention & play around with it. He just prefers cats over dogs any day of the week.
•He likes going on walks a lot. Especially if cal comes with. He likes finding places that seems like no one else knows about. I think he’d be SO thrilled if they found a abandoned old tree house. He repairs it up a little bit, adds some things inside and then declares it the army of twos meeting place. (even if they actually rarely meet there lol. They r more likely to be at each others houses but they spend some nights, share secrets, plan things and whatnot up there.)
•He’s not shy really when speaking but words do get caught in his throat and he can be kinda awkward & can’t really read the room when he’s with a big group of people.
Yknow that “he asked for no pickles” meme? That’s Cal saying that with Andre behind him to me.. Andre just prefers not to speak unless it’s absolutely necessary (with people other than Cal) or if someone pissing him off.
•He can take just about anything apart and put it back together again. He fixes Cals siblings toys all the time. He even fixes their bikes too. But he can do more complex things like taking apart a computer and all that.
•He doesn’t have many memories from when he was in Germany. He remembers some relatives and just random odd things here and there but he mostly only has childhood memories from his time in the US.
•He cusses, shit talks under his breath, calls Cal both sweet and mean names all in german.
-He doesn’t do it as much as a older teen but when he would forget the word for something in English he’d say it in German.
-The first time he said I love you to Cal was in German since he knew Cal probably didn’t know what he was saying. Like I said he also calls him names too which Cal and Rachel would try to figure the translation for later online. If it’s something romantic, Cal always would go “Haha yeah this definitely wasn’t what he said.”
•He looks up to Cal so much and is jealous of him. He loves that Cal lets himself be more vulnerable & all cheeky/boyish. Andre for some reason or another feels the need to come off as the strong, more masculine and mature one of the two around others. He likes that Cal expresses himself through sappy shit like poems & music. Andre has it in his head that he always needs to bottle everything up which results in him being quick to get angry and lash out.
That last part is why he was always so annoyed by Rachel. He couldn’t find it in himself to even tell Cal that he doesn’t want him spending time with anyone else though it’s honestly pretty obvious lol.
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OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever
#jrwi fanart#cw blood#jrwi show#jrwi suckening#arthur bennett#OUHH THIS ONE WAS SITTING IN MY WIPS FOR SO LOOOONGwhen i took it out there was mould on it :sob:#BUT i think i was able to fix it up okay#i keep seeing SO MANY MISTAKES RRAAAHHH BUT YOU DONT SEE THEM RIGHT?? THATS ONLY ME. RIGHT?? EXACTLY.#THE KEY IS TO SAY. AND REPEAT AFTER ME. 'FUUUCK IT WE BALL#so anyway. arthur bennett huh? grizzly says that arthur is reaal fuckin difficult to play. and i SUPER get that. i mean LOOK AT HIM..#grizz often needs a minute to think abt what hes gonna say in a way that matches w that Stoic Personality. which is FAIR but also that#ends up making way for awkward confrontations like: the lady in the parky lot. he took too long to answer and scared her away.& I LOVE THAT#arthur is tragic and sad and cool and stoic but hes ALSO awkward and silly and kinda dumb and short sighted. HE HAS COMPLEXITIES#I LOVE WHEN TTRPG CHARACTERS HAVE A GOOD SET OF SHORTCOMINGS. ESPECIALLY WHEN U FIND THEM ONLY AS U PLAY THEM.#I COULd go on and on saying the same things w different words abt arthurs intriguing and entertaining character but i shall spare u. for no#ILL ALSO MENTION HOW MUCH I LOVE HIS FLAVOR THO.. I LOVE TALL HOT BOY WHOS ONE W THE DARKNESS.. I REMEMBER WHEN HE FIRST MENTIONED THE#BADLUCK. N I WAS LIKE OOOHH THATS WHY HIS DESIGN IS SO COOL N CHAOTIC N ASYMMETRICAL. HES UNLUCKY!!! i love love love his design so much...#GRaaauruguguraguhhghghgh what else what else is there for me to spew on abt...i think im reachin a limit here..OH MAGNUS. i hope that#we get to know more abt how magnus and arthur met.. like How they became besties... ouuhh... I ALSO WANNA KNOW MORE ABT MARY DAVIS. LIKEHOW#he also apparently spent alotta time in a zone dominated by edward twilight? all he remembers is constant partying? I WANNA KNOW MORE..#i think i got room 4 one more ramble SO. THE ART PIECE.as i said its gone a lil stale BUT. im still very proud o the bits where hes allScar#I WANNA SEE HIM GET SCARYMORE. I like the idea of shadows solidifying to make him strange and eerie.like TEETH n CLAWS n SPINES n YESS#also the SILVER EYES.no1 does silver eyes like the show Claymore. they make em look so striking and eerie...i also like to think that#human arthur had deep beautiful brown eyes.just in my beaitufl heart.i mean look at him..i wanna cook him n eat him.ANYWAY#i think thats all my ramblin for this piece. now i gotta go cancel a single day i had ata hotel bc my work schedule change last minute FUCK#feel free to ramble in my tags aswell tho i read all of them and i chew on thenm and i love them so sos os mcuh
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zebratimw · 10 months
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#svsss#scum villains self saving system#shang qinghua#how I be feeling these days ahdnfjgkg#I keep stressing about life in general and its seriously bumming me out hajdjg#how nice it would be to not exist#everyday I wake up and do the same things I hate#time hasn't felt real in years and it goes way before covid times#I haven't felt real in most of those years either#Look I'm lucky I'm not like depressed or whatever but frankly this derealization shit is seriously startin to get a little worrying at times#tbf I only really notice it recently so maybe its just a bias#I've been chugging along this way for years all thats changed is my perception of it#but at the same time I really want to do more too#I get I'm a very boring and unreliable person#and I know I just said its my perception of it but like I do genuinely think my social skills my general living just like me mentally ig#I'm kinda deteriorating in my stagnation ig? artistically too but more worrying in my life idbfjg#priorities sorry anyways I also think I do have adhd or something and that rejection thing dhfjgjg I really can't start things anymore#idk I really just feel so clueless in most things now and I'm too scared or too confused or both to start fixing things#like how do I even fix things? what do I even search for in this kind of thing?#Idk I'm just gonna go sleep ig god I'm so tired of everything#I haven't been able to draw I've really lost passion for a lot of things again and everything irritates me#I can't stand my phone sometimes but it's kinda the only thing getting me through it all ha#ngl I wish I were depressed sometimes if only so I'd actually have the balls to do smth but Ik that's just the Metnally Ail part speaking so#chug chug going along#I also have to make wushi before I die. haha#god my life is so empty#what am I even doing#I'm really so tired why can't my life end here already? modern lifespans are too long how am I supposed to keep going on like this?#so pointless and vapid and its just me ? why did it have to be me that was born? couldn't someone else have been here I hate it here so much#I strive for nothing but I have such a long life and so many people to disappoint haha maybe I should go outside more
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